I’m sitting at the clubhouse tossing back a few beers with Quinn and Reid after a long ass day at the shop, when I feel a hand slide up my arm. Turning my head, I see a chick with brown shoulder length hair, brown eyes, and fake ass tits hanging out of a scrap of material she calls a shirt. She’s the new club pussy Liz brought around last week, and I don’t have it in me to care what the fuck her damn name is. I haven’t paid the bitch any mind since she walked through the clubhouse door a week ago. Not from lack of trying on her part.

"Hey, Gabriel,” she purrs. "You want some company tonight?"

"Fuck off." I bark, pulling my arm free from her grasp. Feeling her hands on me causes my skin to crawl.

She huffs and storms off across the room in her too tall heels that make her wobble back over to where Liz is tentatively watching.

"You okay, brother?" Reid asks, taking a pull of his beer while sitting on the stool beside me.

"Fine," I grumble. Only...I’m not fine. My mind is still reeling from seeing Santino at the fight three weeks ago. It’s been seven years since I last saw him, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why the fuck he would be in here. I know Santino is heavy into the fighting scene, but to show up at a meaningless fight in the middle of a small town in Montana is a far cry from what goes down in Miami. Most people don’t realize how much money can be made in underground fighting. But for him to show up in nowhere, fucking Montana. Maybe it’s just one hell of a coincidence. But I’d bet my left nut it’s not.

On top of all that shit, I haven’t been able to get ahold of my sister Leyna for the past two weeks. I call her at least every other day. She answers nearly every time. There is a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that something is not right. I reached out to a cousin of ours that lives several cities over. He agreed to go to Leyna’s house and check on her for me. Hopefully, I hear back from him soon.

I hate that my sister is so far from me. I’ve been working on bringing her to the U.S., but these things take time. She insisted on staying in Cuba with our mother while she was still alive, but since her passing we have started all the necessary steps to move her here. I miss my sister terribly. Even though we have been apart for so long, we are still as close as ever. I tell her everything. We have no secrets. Leyna knows about the club. She even knows about Alba. My sister is the only person I confide in entirely. She also told me I was an idiot for what I did and if she were here she’d kick my ass for the way I treated Alba. My sister has been encouraging me to go to her and to fix what I’ve done, but I informed her the damage has already been done.

"You plannin’ on fightin’ again?" Reid asks, bringing me out of my thoughts.

Shrugging my shoulders, "If I get the itch and they get some decent competition I will."

"There are better ways to relieve stress, than beating the shit out of someone," Quinn chimes in, nodding to the direction of Liz and her new minion. I choose to ignore the asshole. Quinn is doing what he does best. He’s trying to goad a reaction out of me. I see the knowing smirk on his face. Instead, I turn my attention back to Reid.

"I may need you to look into something for me. I haven’t heard from my sister in a couple weeks. If I don’t hear something by tomorrow, I want you to see what you can find out for me."

"Has she ever gone radio silent on you before?" He asks with a look of concern on his face. My brothers know about my sister, and how close we are.

"No. She’s never not answered my calls," I insist. "Something about this isn’t sittin’ right with me. I have a cousin checking up on her, he’s supposed to get back with me tomorrow. If he comes back with nothing, I want you to see what you can find."

"You got it, brother. Give me everything you have on her, and I’ll see what I can do."

"Got another favor, man. I want you to get me everything you can on a Miguel Santino. This guy is big into drugs. I’m not sure the level, but my guess is he’s big time, based out of Miami. He’s also heavy into the fight scene."

"Is this something for the club, or is it personal?" Reid inquires.

I shake my head, "This is personal."

I see the questioning look on his face, he wants to ask more, but respects my privacy enough not to.

"Alright, brother, I’ll start digging tonight and get with you tomorrow."

Standing up from my stool, I nod in agreement before heading to my room to turn in for the night.

* * *

I’m grabbing myself a cup of coffee from the kitchen the next morning after another sleepless night when I run into Reid.

"We need to talk," he says sounding irritated as he walks past me, not bothering to stop. Following him, Reid leads me out the back door of the clubhouse towards a picnic table towards the corner of the yard.

"You want to tell me why the fuck you have me digging into the biggest fucking drug lord in Miami?" He barks.

Keeping my expressions neutral, I answer him, "I told you it was personal," I remind him as I sit down on top of the table, resting my forearms on my knees.

"When you have me checking up on your sister, that’s personal. It’s a whole other ball game when I’m tapping into a man like Santino, Gabriel. When you mentioned drugs and fights, I imagined a low-level gang punk. If a man like Miguel Santino catches someone snooping around in his dealings, that comes back on the club."

"Thought you knew how not to get caught, brother."

"I do." Reid scoffs. "But people like Santino, have people like me making sure nobody is sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong. All I’m saying is you should have fuckin’ warned me as to who I was dealing with. Fucking hell, Gabriel."

"Well, now that you’re done bitchin’, you want to tell me whatcha got?" I ask taking a swallow of my coffee.

Running his hands through his hair Reid takes a seat next to me.

"Not much to tell man. No more than you already knew. Miguel Santino is smart, he doesn’t leave a paper trail."

"Yeah, I figured as much. Thanks anyway, brother." I go to stand when he asks.

"You going to tell me what your deal is with this guy?"

Looking him straight in the eyes, I deliver to him something I’ve only ever told Logan.

"Miguel Santino is the man responsible for my father’s death."

Turning, I walk back to the clubhouse, not bothering to wait for Reid’s reaction. It’s no secret that I’m a very private person. I don’t divulge to anyone much about my past. Logan is the only one of the brothers that knows the most. Jake only has the cliff’s notes. Now Reid has a little bit more of me. I wanted him to understand the reason the information meant so much to me.

Later that afternoon, I’m at my shop finishing up a back piece for a repeat customer, when the door chimes. A middle-aged man in a dark suit walks in. It’s not uncommon to have suits walk in from time to time. You’d be surprised at how many of your corporate types have ink. With Blake gone to lunch, I stand up, take my gloves off, and toss them in the trash bin beside my work station.

"Give me a minute." I tell the guy who’s laid out in my chair.

"Sure, man. I need a smoke anyway." He says, getting up and walking out the door.

"What can I do for ya?" I ask the suit walking in his direction.

"Gabriel Martinez?"

"Yeah, that’s me." I tell him. I take a moment to size him up. The guy is about six feet tall, his dark hair is buzzed close to his scalp. On closer inspection, he’s definitely not corporate at all. Aside from his fancy suit, he looks street. Right down to the scars covering his knuckles.

"I’m here on behalf of Mr. Santino. He has requested a meeting with you."

I tense at the mention of Santino.

"Not interested." I convey in a bored tone while trying to keep my anger in check.

My senses go on high alert when he reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket. In one swift movement, I slip my hand into my cut, pulling out my gun, and press the barrel to his forehead.

"You better think about your next move very carefully pendejo asshole."

Seeming unfazed, aside from the slight tick of his jaw, the man slowly removes his hand from his suit holding a card. With my gun still trained on him, I reach with my other hand and pluck it from his grasp.

"I assure you Mr. Martinez, you want to take this meeting." Without another word the man turns and walks out of my shop. Now I’m left wondering what the hell Santino is up to.

"Fuck." I mutter out loud. I look down at the card in my hand which has an address written on it.

"So, are you going, man?" Reid asks me later that day at the clubhouse. After finishing up with my client I closed the shop early. I needed a fucking drink. I was still reeling from the recent invitation I received from Santino.

"Fuck, I don’t know. This is the son of a bitch responsible for my father’s death. I might be tempted to put a bullet in his head the moment I see him. Hell, I should have done it years ago." Blowing out a frustrated breath, I turn to Reid. "My instincts are telling me to take the meeting."

"You need to bring the club in on this, brother. Prez will be pissed if you go to this meetup alone."

"Not yet. Not going to involve the club unless I have to. I’ll take the meeting, see what he wants."

"Dammit, Gabriel. Men like Santino don’t request a meetup without cause. You think he wants to sit around and shoot the shit with you? Ask you how you been? No. This man wants something from you, brother. He didn’t stay in town and find out where you work for nothin’. My guess is he knows all about the Kings too. This whole situation reeks. And Prez is going to have your ass, when he finds out what you’re doing."

"I’m not involving the club." I say with finality, looking Reid in the eyes. "I’ll accept whatever consequences come from not telling Jake. For now, this is my business, and I’ll handle as I see fit." My tone leaving no room for argument.

"Fuck." Reid mumbled, running his hand down his face. "Well, I guess it’s going to be my ass too, cause I’m coming with you. No way can I let you go in alone."

"Thanks man, I appreciate it." I say smirking at him when he stands up from his stool, cursing under his breath.

"Yeah, yeah, asshole. I’ll see you in the morning. I’d like to get this shit over with as soon as possible."

* * *

The next morning, Reid and I drive to the address listed on the card given to me. It’s a local hotel a few miles from the clubhouse and not a place I pictured Santino staying. Not with the kind of money he has. But then again, Polson doesn’t have much in the way of luxury hotels. Still, I was expecting our meeting to be more private. Getting off our bikes, Reid and I walk into the lobby of the hotel. Striding up to the front desk, I spot a middle-aged woman typing away on a computer.

"Can I help you?" She asks in a bored tone, not bothering to look up.

"I’m here to see Miguel Santino. Can you ring his room and tell him he has a visitor?" At the sound of my voice she startles, looking up. With her mouth gaping open, she runs her eyes over the length of me. It’s not every day she has two members of the Kings strolling into her hotel. Before the stunned woman has a chance to respond, a voice calls over my shoulder.

"That won’t be necessary."

Hearing the familiar voice brings back a time in my life I wish I could forget. Turning around, I stare into the eyes of Miguel Santino. My fingers itching to pull out my knife and slit his throat.

"Gentleman." Miguel says motioning to some chairs in the corner of the lobby.

I follow him over with Reid behind me. I notice three of his men throughout the lobby. I clocked them about two seconds after entering the hotel. Pretty sure that’s how he knew we were here.

"I’m glad you decided to meet with me, Mr. Martinez."

"Enough of the formalities bullshit." I say cutting him off. "Just get to the part where you tell me what the hell you want."

"Very well." Santino replies with a smile. "I want you and your club to do something for me."

"No." I snap as I stand up from my seat.

"Do you not want to hear my terms?" He presses as I go to leave.

Turning, I reply. "I don’t give two fucks about your terms. My club and I aren’t doing shit for you."

"That’s too bad, Gabriel. I was looking forward to working with you."

I make it a few steps before he calls out.

"How’s your sister?" My steps falter and chills run down my spine.

"I don’t always bank on luck, Mr. Martinez. Running into you after all these years was quite a nice surprise. When my nephew asked me to swing by and see his fight, I thought what the hell, I was in Seattle on business. I never approved of his decision to get himself mixed up with biker trash, but family is family."

What the hell is he talking about?

"I see the wheels turning in your head. I believe you refer to my nephew as ’prospect’. Daniel told me all about your sister and has been all too forthcoming about your little club. As you know blood is thicker than water. His loyalty lies with his real family."

"Fuck." I hear Reid curse under his breath. I now know why I’ve not heard from her. I knew something about that shit wasn’t right. Standing very still, I listen to Santino speak.

"This decision was made for you when you showed up at that fight and I spotted you across the room with my nephew. I always seek revenge Gabriel. I know all about your club and the man you call your President. You’re a pawn, Mr. Martinez. You and your club. One I plan on using."

"Leyna is a very beautiful woman. It would be a shame for something to happen to her." He says in a pleasing tone as he stands from his seat, buttoning his suit coat. His casualness of the situation pissing me off.

At his words, I turn and go to rush him when I feel a hand reach out and grab my bicep.

"Not here, brother." Reid warns me. And fuck if he’s not right. This is exactly why Santino chose a public place.

"Hijo de puta. Son of a bitch." I growl, stepping right into Miguel’s face.

"You give me what I want, and I’ll return your sister to you. It’s that simple."

"I want proof she’s alive." I challenge.

Pulling out his phone, Santino presses a button and places the phone to his ear.

"Put the girl on." After a moment, he hands me the phone.

"Leyna, Estas bien You okay?"

"Si hermano Yes brother, I’m fine. What’s going on Gabriel? These men—” That’s all my sister gets out before the line goes dead.

Reaching into the inside of his suit jacket Santino pulls out a cell phone.

"I’ll be in touch," he says tossing the phone at me without so much as second glance. All I can do is watch him walk out of the hotel with his men following behind.

When Reid and I return to the clubhouse, I head straight for Daniel’s room. I want the motherfucker dead. When I open his door, I see he’s not here. Striding over to the closet, I yank it open and see all his shit is gone. The fucking pussy ran.

"MIERDA! FUCK!" I bellow.