I’m so fucking dead.

The woman that I have been secretly texting and e-mailing for Ratchet is not only Ricca’s former therapist, but my club president’s sister. The woman who has consumed my every spare second thought, daydream, and nightmare is here, and she doesn’t have a clue as to who I really am. The man that is standing here in shock and awe at her presence is nothing more than a creeper staring at her like a fan stares at a celebrity on the red carpet.

 

The minute she walked into our clubhouse I knew I was royally fucked. Not like I-might-die kind of fucked. Not like I’m dead as in cease to breathe or live, but six feet under with maggots eating my entrails while my club president, Raze, pisses on my grave and laughs kind of dead. This is the worst kind of fucked up situation that a man could find himself in.

It can’t be that simple at all. Not in my life. If you looked up the word fucked in the dictionary, you would find some wordy definition of the word that graces my vocabulary far more often than any civilized person should use it, and also my photograph.

Pretty bad, right? Well, take that image and multiple it times a million because that’s the situation I’m in right now. All in all, it could be worse, but not by much more. After months of living under the guise of a wealthy tech guru, the woman that started creeping into my life one text at a time is just inches away from me. While I had planned to eventually meet her in person and explain myself, this wasn’t what I expected at all. Every goddamn inch of me was screaming on the inside of my body. I was in pure shock and completely ecstatic to finally be so close to her, but the minute it was revealed to me that she was Raze’s sister, I shoved every feeling I had for her back into the not going to fucking happen box. If Obi-Wan Kenobi was here right now, he’d be waving his hand in my face and declaring that this isn’t the woman I have been looking for.

“V?” Raze says, as he steps out from behind his sister, and the girl I now know as Ratchet’s once thought to be dead sister Ginny, who is currently wrapped up tightly in her own brother’s arms. “You okay?”

“Yup,” I squeak out, like a teenage boy in between his voice change. “Just wanted to know what all the commotion was,” I lie.

“Long story,” Raze mumbles. “Get the guys into Church. Now.”

“Sure thing, Prez,” I respond, before turning on my heels.

Don’t look back, dumbass. Don’t do it.

My head turns, and I look at Presley’s tiny stature that is dwarfed, behind her brother’s large frame. Her eyes catch mine, and I avert them immediately. This isn’t the time or place for this shit.

“Church!” I yell out to the crowded main room of our clubhouse. My brothers respond immediately moving away from their wives and kids, filing into our meeting room. Darcy, Raze’s fiancée, leans against the bar top with observant eyes, as she watches the commotion of the room simmer. She already knows something is wrong. The other ladies look to her and begin gathering around her, as I turn on my heels walking towards the meeting room and stepping inside.

The large table in the center of the room is nearing maximum capacity with every seat taken, except for Raze’s head chair. Several of the newer brothers are leaning against the walls surrounding the table. In the recent months, our club has seen an influx of transfers from former chapters that had disbanded, thanks to Raze’s ex-wife’s betrayal of her husband’s club for the interest of her own cartel family’s desires. But Maj and her goddamn Mexican Manson family aren’t our problem anymore, after our little jaunt to Mexico. The sun set on their bullet ridden bodies, and we never turned back. Our club changed after that, and for the better. We are all still getting use to the newer brothers, which is why Hero wanted to patch Slider in, but the relationships and trust are slowly starting to build. Trust takes time, and unfortunately, that hasn’t exactly been in abundance around here until recently. Our club was making far larger strides to becoming independent from the shit shows of our past. Peace would never be easy. It is painstakingly slow, but in the end, it would benefit all of us. We just had to get there first.

But with Raze’s reaction to his sister’s return, I knew that it was all about to end.

So close yet so fucking far away.

“Did you catch that little spitfire of a woman giving me the business end of a tongue lashing?” Slider asks. “Shit, she was fine as fuck. I wonder how good that tongue of hers would feel wrapped around my dick.”

“She’s none of your concern, prospect,” I hiss. “Show some respect, motherfucker.”

“Jesus, V. Who pissed in your cereal this morning? She’s a good-looking woman. Since when is commenting on a beautiful woman a crime?”

“Just don’t,” I order him. Slider starts to say something else, but a familiar sound echoes off the wall from the office area making the entire room go quiet.

Raze’s heavy footsteps stomp through the door with Ratchet on his heels. Raze reaches back and closes the door behind him, before stalking to his place at the head of the table. Ratchet stops just beside him, and places himself at Raze’s left side, but remains standing.

“Brothers, we have a situation,” he declares.

My stomach drops. He knows what I did. I can see my obituary now. There will be some mumbo jumbo about my life, listing my few legally acceptable accomplishments just before my surviving family member’s names. But the part that I know will seal my fate will be at the very bottom. Followed by the next part that will list my transgressions for the entire world to see. That I screwed with my club president’s sister, and he disemboweled me as a warning to the other men in his club to not follow suit. I will be the example on Raze’s wall of what not to do in an MC.

“We have a situation that involves my kid sister and her friend.”

“Old man trouble?” Thor teases from the back of the room.

“Who’s the other chick?”

“I wish it were that simple. The young woman with her is Ginny Azzo, Ratchet’s sister.”

I let out a silent sigh that maybe, just maybe, Raze doesn’t know about Presley and I just yet. Ginny’s return may have spared me from Ratchet spilling the beans, and my life ending on the floor of Church.

 

Not today, Satan. My soul is still free.

Silence echoes against the walls of the room. Every man stands quiet as the grave, except for Slider and his uncontrollable mouth. The guy needs a permanent brain to mouth filter installed on a good day, and I have a feeling the shit about to come out of it is going to end in his ass being kicked. It was a privilege that we allowed him to attend Church, as a prospect on rare occasions. Something he was about to abuse for the millionth time.

“Sister?” he whispers to Hot Shot, who hushes him in return. “She single?”

“I thought your sister was dead,” Hero questions, looking to both Ratchet and Raze.

“Obviously not, asshole,” Ratchet barks back. “Watch it, Slider.” His tone is dark and angry. I don’t even have to ask because I know that her reappearance has re-opened a wound for him. In the few times he would even talk about his sister, you could hear the pain in his voice, over not being able to save her from the fate she found. I thought that he might be happier than he currently stands now knowing that she’s still alive, but he clearly isn’t at that point yet. I make a mental note, that until he calms down, to steer clear of him. Even though I consider him one of my best friends in this club, this is a side of him that I want to avoid. One false move, and he’ll explode in rage. It’s one of the reasons that he’s our club’s enforcer, cleaner, and death dealer.

“How is that even possible?” Tyson gently nudges.

“Witness protection. Apparently, Ginny has been in the program for a few years now.”

“Okay, but how does that explain Presley’s involvement?” Hero asks. “What is Ginny to her?”

“Presley was recruited by the FBI as Ginny’s therapist.”

“How is whatever this is our problem?” Slider asks. “I didn’t think we cared about the outside shit anymore.” Ratchet glares at him, and even at this distance, I can see him mentally dismembering Slider just at the insistence that neither of them or their problems should matter to us. If he keeps this up, I may help Ratchet kill him.

“It’s our problem, prospect, because they are our family,” Raze begins to yell as he moves around the table, coming nose to nose with Slider. “We protect our fucking family,” he spits. “If you feel differently, leave your prospect cut on the table and you can take your ass right out of that door. You’re in this room because I allow it, and if you can’t follow the rules of my fucking club, you’re done here. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Prez,” he mumbles, falling back into his chair with a slump. For a man who was an inch away from his vote and patch party, he sure knows how to fuck his chances up. If we had taken the vote today, he’d be out on his ass or a prospect for life, because of his utter lack of respect for this club and our rules, when shit hits the fan.

Raze moves away from him and looks to all of us.

“My sister and Ratchet’s sister are in deep. As in deep enough that this might be worse than Mexico. Ginny is involved in one of the largest organized crime trials of the century. She is the key witness for the FBI’s case, and without her, everything is fucked.”

“I take it her cover was blown?” I ask respectfully.

“Yes,” Ratchet interrupts Raze. “Both she and Presley have been made by the crime family, and if we don’t protect them, they’ll be as good as dead.”

Tyson looks around the room, and asks the one question that is on all of our minds. “Which family?”

“The Zezza’s,” Raze flatly answers.

The room erupts in yells, protests, and shock.

“Are you crazy?” someone in the back of the room exclaims. “The Zezza’s are the largest organized crime family in the entire country. Hell, maybe even the world.”

“I know it’s bad, but we’re the only fucking chance they have. They’re dead if we turn them away.”

I look to my concerned brothers, and push away from the table and stand. Hero follows suit, and addresses the room, while I look on.

“When we patched in, we vowed to protect and serve this club. That includes family. If this were any of your sisters, wives, daughters, or fucking cousins once removed, we’d stand by you. Your club president is asking you to stand by him and weather the storm.”

“I’m with you,” I declare.

One by one, all of my brothers, and even Slider, stand with us.

“Thank you, my brothers,” Raze commends.

 

“What’s the plan, Prez?” Thor, our newest recruit, requests.

“For the time being, Ginny and Presley will be secured here. I’m calling for an immediate lockdown of the clubhouse. If you feel the need to send your old ladies or children away, I will not stop you. Our priority is protecting them, and I will be assigning round the clock guards on them at all times. This means that the security business will be light handed, so we will need to bring in a few guys from the other chapters to cover the load and keep watch on the clubhouse. Ratchet and I spoke prior to the meeting, and we both feel it’s best that he takes Ginny.”

 

“What do you need me to do, Prez?” I ask, knowing that with Presley here, I’m going to need a good distraction. She has no idea that I’m the man she’s been talking to for months, and that isn’t exactly knowledge that I want to share to the world yet. So, the busier I am, the less likely that I will try to act on the feelings I’ve developed for her, while helping Ratchet and Ricca gain custody of her brother.

“I need you to get all the information you can about these Zezza fuckers, V. I want to know where they call home, their ranks from top to bottom, every single meal they eat, and even when they take a dump. If the rumors I’ve heard about these guys are remotely true, we’ll be fighting an uphill battle. For now, we are assuming that they don’t know Ginny and Presley are here, but that can change at any minute. Any information you can get will help us prepare.”

“You got it, Prez,” I reassure him. “Likewise goes for any information Ginny can provide me about the case and what she knows about them from a personal standpoint would be great. I could hack the federal database, but that’s the last resort.”

“We’ll get the information you need, V,” Ratchet offers. I nod in return. “Raze and I have agreed to allow both girls to speak to the entire club. Information needs to move at real time speed.”

“And what about Presley?” Slider asks with a sly tone. “I can watch her.”

Slider’s insistence of inserting himself into Presley’s path grates even more on my paper-thin nerves. His choice of continuing to think with his cock and not his big boy brain is about to get him into trouble. The old adage of, if I can’t have her neither can you, is about to go into effect, if I have my way. Raze should be enough to scare him off, but Slider is a special kind of fucking dumbass, when it comes to pussy.

“I appreciate your change of attitude, Slider, but Voodoo will be the one in charge of guarding her. He will keep his hands to himself unlike you.”

My heart stops, and I look on in shock. Raze has just delivered me like a prized sheep to a slaughterhouse sale. Staying away from her will be nearly impossible now, and I get the sinking suspicion that Ratchet volunteered me for the job.

Bastard.