LOKI

“Can we trust her to keep this to herself?” Whistler asks.

“She’d have been safe with the secret all along,” Sticks tells all of them.

Kiwi has completely checked out on me. Her tears have stopped but she hasn’t moved from my arms. Pyro disappeared a minute ago, though I don’t know where he went.

“She’s stronger than you think,” I tell them all.

“That’s obvious,” Big Daddy chortles. “She’s been through more shit in her life than any of us can possibly imagine.” His eyes glare at me.

“I didn’t fucking know,” I snap. “None of you thought it was important to tell me?” This is the first chance I’ve had to vent my frustration in regard to Piper and being kept out of the loop regarding her existence and I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m a fucked-up animal who abandoned his daughter.

“He’s right,” Kiwi says and all eyes turn back to her. “But,” she adds, my eyes meeting hers, “When you never called me back, I figured it didn’t matter to you what I had to say because if it had, you’d have called me back.” She moves to stand up and I don’t want to let her go, but I do. She stands. “Where’s my gun?” she snaps.

“You gonna shoot anyone with it?”

“At the moment, no.” She glares at Big Daddy and I hand her back her gun. She pops the clip out expertly, then checks the chamber before holstering it again and straightening her cut. She hasn’t taken it off so maybe that’s a good sign.

“She’s armed again, brother,” someone says and I turn to see Pyro – Tryke – coming back into the living room. I narrow my eyes at him. Something’s different. Then I realize he’s taken out his contacts.

He’s looking at Lily and they’re both just staring at each other. “How’d I not know?” she mumbles.

“The same way I didn’t know you were you, and Loki didn’t know who you were,” Tryke tells her.

“Why?” she asks. “Why not make them think you were dead, then go after them yourself?”

There’s a collective sigh around the room. “We have business to discuss, darlin’, so if you don’t mind, can we save the family reunion for later?” Big Daddy grumbles.

I watch Kiwi as her face turns stoic and she nods, pulling the mask back on.

“Where were we?” someone asks and I get off the floor.

“Kiwi was telling us about how Gunnar knows who she is. Though I’m not sure how he managed to put two and two together,” Pyro/Tryke says.

“My disguise wasn’t fooling anyone,” Kiwi mutters. “I knew if anyone looked close enough, they’d figure it out. The exception being the old ladies and longtime club members, like Cowboy, Shifter,” she looks at me, “and the ones that were under my dad’s run as Pres. They were always at the house, and they knew me as well as anyone else. But the last time any of them saw me, I was thirteen years old. So, at best, they’d see a family resemblance and nothing more.

“And when Tryke,” her voice chokes on the name and she looks at him, “Told them I was dead, and went to the elaborate ruse of making it seem as such, they wouldn’t believe otherwise.

“You guys have to remember,” she continues, “that this is a biker club, and when members disappear, or die, they are remembered. Their cuts burned, patches are put on the Wall of the Fallen and they’re not forgotten. But kids, old ladies, whores, employees, no one gives a shit about them unless they were close.”

“We were close at one point,” Cowboy chimes in and Kiwi smiles at him.

“I remember that, we were.”

“But I still didn’t know it was you, not until now,” he says to her softly.

She gives him a melancholy smile. “What I did, what I’m doing here, is because my parents deserve to be avenged. Their deaths were nothing more than a power hungry, ball-less power trip and I’ve done what I could to prove that point. Gave Big Daddy everything he needed to make a move. You’re the ones who’ve let it go on this long. Now that someone else is going to try and make a play for his position, and he knows it, there’s no stopping him unless we stop him first.”

“I want to show you guys something,” Tryke cuts in. He looks at Lily, sadness and relief battling for the top spot on his features. “I rigged the clubhouse, much the way I rigged the house,” he tells her and she nods. “We needed eyes on the inside and while we couldn’t possibly know that whatever they were doing was going to be made known inside the clubhouse walls, I had to take a chance.” He picks up a remote and points it to the TV. It flickers to life and the picture shows the inside of Rooster’s office.

Standing with him are Opie and Gunnar. “Opie was supposed to get close to Rooster and relay information back to us, that was his role in all this. Opie made no secret of his distaste for Tripp following his death and Rooster used that to his advantage. However,” I continue, “over time Opie came to realize that Rooster was too fucked up for his own good. Now the reason we know he’s failed us is because we had no idea about their plan to take me out. If Opie’d been the person we thought he was, we would have known before Stoney made her move.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Kiwi cuts in and all of us glare at her. “Look, I’m not defending him, but think about this for a second. Rooster and Gunnar have their guards up now, whether Opie tipped them off and turned against you guys or they found out through some other means is moot for the moment. But if Gunnar or Rooster made their plan to try and take out Loki, on the fly, Opie may not have known about it.”

“Then why hasn’t he come to us since the other night?” Tryke asks. “I tried reaching out to him to no avail, so again, Opie is still out.”

Kiwi shrugs. “What’s on the tape?” Whistler asks and the tape starts playing.

I’m watching with rapt attention as Opie, Gunnar and Rooster pull up the linoleum floor in his office after having moved a filing cabinet. Beneath the floor is a safe. Due to the video quality, we can clearly see the combination as Rooster turns the wheel before wrenching the handle and pulling the door open. It’s a good size safe. “Get it out of here, take it to my house and put it in my safe,” Rooster orders.

“Combo?” Opie asks.

“The same,” Rooster says.

We proceed to watch Opie and Gunnar empty the safe. As they do, more and more stacks of bills come out.

“Fuck, there has to be a good two to three million there,” Pixie says.

“How long has this asshole been skimmin’?” Sticks asks.

“As best as I can tell, about two years before I was killed,” Tryke answers. “But the amounts were smaller, less noticeable, but none-the-less they added up quickly.” He pauses the video. “There’s more of the same, I’ll show you the last part in a minute. During the three-year gap when I wasn’t here, while going back through the books, I noticed a few things happening. One being large drug orders would come in, our usual take, and that money would replace the drugs, dollar for dollar, no problem. But then I started noticing more drugs being brought in from different channels and kept off the books. Then I noticed more money being spent on supplies, excess inventory for the shops, but when that inventory was catalogued, it never existed and the drug income stayed about the same. So, the drugs being purchased with the money allocated for inventory never made it into the books.

“That’s when I noticed the profits at the shop, Cottontail, Iron Wings, and Pixie Sticks (yup, it’s named for exactly who you think it is, only in this case a clothing boutique owned by the Angels were falling in comparison to the amount of inventory being ordered. But purchasing was still increasing, meaning an increase in drugs and overinflating the shop’s books.”

Cowboy steps forward. “It was around this time that Rooster ordered us to start watering down alcohol and we pushed more and more drugs through the bar. Our alcohol consumption decreased based on the watering, but the profit lines stayed the same and our drug business tripled.”

“So, you see where this is going?” Tryke asks the room.

“He was using the legitimate businesses as a front to push more drugs. Offsetting his profits by reducing actual inventory,” Kiwi cuts in and everyone looks at her. She shrugs. “Club business,” she snarks.

“Go on,” Sticks tells her.

“It’s a classic coop. If you make it look like you’re purchasing more inventory, when in reality you’re purchasing less, you’re making money. The money allocated for said inventory is getting sandbagged, thereby raising very few questions on the books side of things. Rooster probably used that money to purchase more drugs, a more profitable business in his mind. More drugs meant more business, and more business meant more money going straight into his pocket.”

“Huh,” someone says.

“Why didn’t you stop him from running Iron Wings via the clubhouse?” Kiwi asks Cowboy.

“By then, Tryke was here, running the books, working the numbers, finding discrepancies. We agreed to work together on bringing Rooster down, so we did as he asked, followed his instructions to keep up the ruse. The more we handed Tryke, the easier it became for him to figure out.”

“All that combined with the video coverage leads us to today. He’s freaking out and that means he’s moving the money.”

“What if he moves it out of his house?” Kiwi asks.

Tryke points the remote at the TV again. “This was an hour or so later at Rooster’s.” He starts the video.

I watch as Gunnar and Opie carry in bags of cash from a truck in the front yard. The camera shifts to another angle and they’re in an office, bringing in the same bags and setting them in front of a safe hidden in the wall. We watch as Opie puts in the combination, again it’s visible with some finagling that I know Tryke has already done. The safe opens and inside the safe are several more stacks of cash. “I can only assume this was moved before the cameras were installed. I have combed through three years of footage on a daily basis and nothing. So, assuming that’s the case, this here, is the money they accused me of stealing in order to take me out.”

The two on the video don’t say much while they fill the safe with money. “Now, here’s where it gets interesting.”

The camera zooms in and we watch as Gunnar puts several stacks of cash in his cut. “The thief is getting played,” Pixie says.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve caught Gunnar dipping into Rooster’s pockets. Usually it’s during a party at the clubhouse when Rooster is distracted by a piece of ass.”

“This is our way to Rooster,” Kiwi says.

Tryke pauses the video, and we look at her. “Use it, turn him against Gunnar, let him take out Gunnar, you all know he will.”

“And Opie?” I ask her.

“If he’s really a traitor to us, then Rooster will pull him in closer. If he’s not a traitor, then he will use his new position to our advantage. Either way,” she shrugs, “it’s a win.”

A phone chimes with a loud beep causing everyone to jump. Tryke pulls his phone from his pocket. “Oh,” he says and then the screen changes again. “This is live.”

“Is it set?” Rooster asks on the feed coming from his office.

“She was reluctant to do it, but I gave her a little persuasion. She’ll do it tonight,” Gunnar says.

“Do we know where he’ll be tonight?”

Gunnar snorts, “Prolly at I.W. with that bitch of his.” I can see Kiwi visibly stiffen at the implication that he’s talking about her. “Though I think she’s the one you need to worry about,” Gunnar adds.

“I ain’t worried about some dumb cunt,” Rooster sneers. “That bitch ain’t got nuttin’ we can’t handle.”

“If you say so,” Gunner remarks.

“Did you take care of the other thing?” Rooster asks.

“Yup, I suspect he’s running back to them right now to tell them about what’s goin’ down. If he does his job, they’ll show up tonight ready to throw down.”

“You’re certain of that?” Rooster sits in his chair.

“He’s gonna tell them you moved the money and where you moved it to. Then he’s going to tell them that you’re handling some shop business and play lookout for them, keeping an,” he uses air quotes “ ‘eye’ on you. This way they’ll make a play for the money, but we’ll be there when they do.”

“You really think they’re that stupid?” Rooster asks.

“They ain’t got no reason not to trust him. He’s been loyal to them from the beginning. Feeding them the information we wanted them to have and him feeding us all their information. How else you think I found out about them making a play for your job?”

Rooster steeples his fingers to his lips and sits there pondering what Gunnar is trying to tell him. “Then set it up. Get Loki out of the way first. Once he’s down, get the rest of them to move and we’ll be waiting for them when they do. Opie will keep us in the loop about when they’re gonna make a play for it?”

I can’t help rolling my eyes and shaking my head. Yes, the Wicked Angels wants their money back, but if he thinks we’re so stupid as to break into his house, while he’s still alive, to take it, he’s got another thing coming.

“What if this is a setup?” Kiwi asks. “What if Rooster’s found out about the cameras in the compound and he’s using them to play you?”

“Get it done,” Rooster dismisses Gunnar and as soon as he’s gone, he picks up the phone on his desk. “You get with them yet?”

A clicking sound happens on the TV and we can hear who he called reply, “Not yet. I’ve been trying to reach Loki all morning with no luck.” I scowl at the screen, despite him not seeing me as he talks to Opie.

“Go to his house if you have to. Jesus, do I have to do everything for you?”

“No, sir,” Opie says into the phone.

“Remember what’s at stake,” Rooster warns through the phone.

“Yeah, I know,” Opie says, his voice full of fear though he’s trying to hide it.

“I mean it, I won’t think twice about killing her.”

“I’ll fucking do it, leave Jess out of this.”

“Oh fuck,” Kiwi growls.

“You know the rules.” Rooster hangs up.

“If he knew he was being watched, I can’t imagine him doing something like that. You go after an Angels’ kid and you’re gonna have the weight of all the Angels coming down on your shoulders before you can execute anything,” Sticks growls. “We protect our own.” He fists his hand and knocks it against his chest.

“Opie ain’t telling anyone shit. He’s knows better. He’s thinking that if he handles this, does what Rooster asks, that Jess will be safe again. I’m willing to bet that Gunnar’s idea of persuasion when it comes to Taz is her kid, too. The problem is, unless he’s taken down, Jess will never have a chance,” Kiwi says then takes a deep breath. Her eyes wander over to Tryke. “I’m walking, talking proof of that,” she breathes.

“That’s it. I’m done,” Big Daddy barks. “We’re ending this and we’re doing it now.” There’s a determination in his voice and a steely disconnection in his eyes. Something rarely seen, but Rooster has officially trampled on the Wicked Angels name by going after innocent children and Big Daddy will not stand for it.

“What’s happening?” Kiwi asks.

Big Daddy turns to her, putting his hands on her shoulders and she winces at his strength. “Are you ready?”

She sucks in a deep breath and lets it out. “Never been more ready,” she tells him. There’s a confidence in her voice I didn’t expect to hear.

“I’m here, I’m alive. Please for the love of your daughter, Lily, don’t do this,” Tryke pleads.

“It was never just about you,” she tells him, tears filling her eyes. “It’s because of Piper, mom, dad, you. You may be alive but those sons ‘a bitches took my family away from me and so help me God, I will not let them have that chance again.” She moves her eyes from Tryke to Big Daddy. “What do we do?”

“We give them what they want,” Pixie says, speaking up for the first time. The man is a beast and the biggest fucking teddy bear on the planet. He got his name because when his daughter turned one, the man was crazy enough to dress up like a fairy for her. Before Pixie was given to him, they called him by his real name, Bear, literally. He wears the name Pixie like a badge of honor. Or an embarrassment. His daughter is now Lily’s age and an old lady. Pregnant with her second child.

The idea that Kiwi might get pregnant again sends a shiver of desire through me, but I tramp it down, we have work to do.

“We let Opie reach out. Loki, you go home, wait for him to show up to give you the news.”

“He’s not called me, at least not before I killed my phone at home before I picked Kiwi up,” I tell him.

“Regardless. Give in to him, let him tell you what he needs to say to you. Tell you about the money, maybe he’ll slip and give you more than that, but don’t hold your breath. When that’s over, take Kiwi to work, stay there with her. Let Taz make her move.”

“I don’t like this idea,” Kiwi grumbles.

“We need to let them think they’re in control of this situation. I’m sorry, but it has to happen this way.” She reluctantly nods to Tryke. “When she’s made her move, he’ll make his. Take her down, do whatever you want with her, but don’t hurt her. She’s not doing this by choice,” Tryke reminds me.

“I know that,” I snap. I’m irritated because they want me to play this part. I want nothing to do with Taz and I don’t know how far it’s gonna go before I can get my hands on her.

“Make sure you take her someplace neutral, like the clubhouse or Cottontail,” Pixie adds.

“What will you be doing?” I ask.

“Moving in on him.”

“It’s a trap,” Kiwi says.

“Yes, but one we’re prepared for. We rolled out of town this morning, doll,” Sticks says. “But myself, Pixie and half the Boulder members are here still.”

“Tucson too. We rolled out. I sent half my guys packing and kept my best guys here. Believe it or not, sweetheart, we knew this was coming. It was just a matter of when and there’s no time like the present.” Big Daddy’s face lights up at the prospect of a fight.

“Why can’t someone just challenge him for Pres?” Kiwi asks.

“I did that once,” Tryke says. “The morning I was killed.”

“Is that why you were in such a foul mood that day?”

Tryke nods at her. “I’d put forth my challenge, the upper levels were supposed to be voting on it. Instead of conceding, he had me killed.”

“Wicked Angels in Roswell lost nearly half its members to Tucson and Boulder because of it,” Whistler says. “Every one of them want back here when management is right.”

“Why did you wait so long to do this?” she asks Big Daddy. “I don’t understand why you didn’t act the moment I told you what happened to Tryke.”

Big Daddy’s face grows red with anger. “Are you questioning me, woman?”

“No,” she growls. “I don’t understand why you’ve let shit like this go on for so damn long. You’re supposed to be the big bad Big Daddy and yet you’ve waited so long that it doesn’t make sense anymore…”

Big Daddy’s hand connects with her cheek. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Enough!” Tryke and I bark at the same time. Kiwi’s hand is on her cheek and I want to go to her, to comfort her, but she’s equally as pissed off as Big Daddy is. Her hand draws under her vest.

“You pull that pistol from your side, you best be prepared to fire it, little girl, because I will not hesitate,” Big Daddy growls at her. Kiwi freezes. “Get her the fuck out of here, lock her down.”

“No, don’t,” Kiwi argues with him.

Big Daddy gets back in her face and she doesn’t back down, it makes my dick hard. “Why I do the things I do is none of your goddamn business. Up until forty-eight hours ago, you were a bar slut, you held no power over anyone. But we gave it to you because you’re family. Always have been, always will be and family is always first, but goddammit, I do not have to explain my actions or choices to you.”

“Alright,” Sticks says, pulling Big Daddy away from Kiwi and she stands tall, proud, confident. My dick twitches. “Rooster’s family, Lily.”

“What?” she glares at him.

“He’s not a brother, like your dad, Devon and me, but he’s a Beaumont. And being a Beaumont affords latitudes, as you very well know.” Sticks raises his eyebrows at her. “Get me?”

“Murder is a latitude?” she challenges.

“Until an hour ago, we had no proof that Rooster killed Tripp. You’ve provided that to us, and now, we’re going to act on it,” Sticks growls. “As far as Tryke is concerned, we backed off at his request. He wanted the chance to take Rooster down himself. Only difference is he wanted to do it in a way that wouldn’t just put a bullet in his skull. Everything he’s collected is proof in an ongoing investigation with local LEOs. Gunnar may go down with a bullet through his skull, but Rooster will go down with shackles around his wrists and where he goes from there is up to the guys already on the inside.”

“That’s not how Angels handle business,” she grumbles.

“It’s exactly how we handle business. We are not in the business of killing people. When you walked in my door six years ago, you were armed with a wealth of information that I took to Whistler, who passed it on to some of his LEO friends.” Big Daddy’s expression softens and he jerks his head toward one of the guys Sticks brought with him. “We’d like you meet ATF Special Agent, Jethro Jackson.”

The man I know as Sketch, steps forward. “Nice to meet you, Lily,” he says extending his hand to her. She takes it slowly. “Your uncle is right, we’ve managed to gather enough information to finally take Rooster down for extortion, money laundering, illegal firearms sales and distribution, and a whole host of other crimes, including, but not limited to murder.”

She shakes her head in disbelief. What else is she gonna say? “We may be the bad guys to most people, the 1%, but we abide by the laws,” Sticks says.

Kiwi laughs, “Bullshit.”

Sticks shrugs. “Well, for the most part.” He smirks.

“So why only Rooster? Why not you or Big Daddy?” she counters.

“Brass balls this one has,” Whistler chuckles. “Because we’ve made friends with the right people and while we may sell drugs, and offer sexual services, we’ve never adventured into the trafficking of drugs outside our communities.”

“Oh yes, because that’s better.” She shakes her head. “I don’t need to know the details. I just want him taken out.”

Big Daddy shakes his head and Sketch moves off to the side. “What would you rather have us do?”

“More like what I’d rather do.”

“Which is what exactly?” Tryke asks.

“Put a bullet through his skull.” Her voice is dead serious and a couple of us, including me, can’t hold back our chuckles. Her face goes hard. “What, you don’t think I could do it?”

“It’s not that, but where’s the fun in that?” Whistler asks. “He dies and you live with the nightmares of watching his lights go out.”

“Well, I’d planned on putting one in each foot and shoulder before I went there.” Again, she’s like a feisty fiery kitten that’s still got her claws. It’s hot as fuck and my cock throbs.

“Now that’s an idea,” Pixie says. “You that good of a shot?” Pixie challenges her and Sticks busts out laughing.

“I wouldn’t challenge her if I were you. Pix.”

Pixie straightens up a little. “Oh, this could be fun.”

Sticks shakes his head. “Your funeral, man, your funeral.”

“Let’s go, outback.”

“How in the fuck did we go from plotting a take down to a duel in the backyard?” Tryke laughs.

“You got extra ammo?” Pixie asks Kiwi. She reaches into her cut pocket and pulls out two clips.

“That gun legal?” Sketch asks.

“Oh yeah,” Tryke answers. “I gave her that gun for her sixteenth birthday.”

“Posturing at its finest,” I mumble and a few laughs ring out.

The next thing I know, we’re in Tryke’s backyard, hay bales stacked, targets pinned to them. They’re made out of human forms. Tryke runs back into the house and returns a few minutes with pictures of Rooster and Gunnar taken from the feeds in the compound and he pins them to the targets.

“What we playin’?” Kiwi asks and my cock strains in my jeans.

“Whatever you want,” Pixie says and I watch as Kiwi checks her clip again and then loads the chamber.

She stands, spreading her legs. Tryke’s chest puffs up with pride. She files off four rounds.

“Oh shit,” Sketch swears and he starts laughing. Tryke’s fighting a laugh and I’m staring like an idiot with my mouth open.

“Uh, sweetheart, you missed,” Pixie says as he looks at the target where there are four random bullets peppered through the paper.

Sticks is practically on the ground because he’s laughing so hard.

“Let me try that again,” Kiwi says, humor in her voice.

She re-poses and fires off the next four.

“Jesus,” Sketch says.

My mouth is officially on the ground and Pixie is just glaring at the target. Still no bullets in the body on the target, but she hit the exact four spots she hit originally. She cocks her head in challenge to Pixie. “You’re up, slugger.”

“Uh huh,” Pixie says and he repeats four shots, then immediately fires the next four. The pattern is nearly identical to hers.

“Alright,” she smirks. “Kell, you got more bullets?” she asks and I see Tryke’s face light up when she uses her nickname for him.

“You know I do,” he tells her.

“We’re gonna need them.”

These two continue posturing for another ten minutes. Pixie goes first on the second round and he clips the armpits of both targets from his position. Kiwi poses and shoots down the same holes Pixie left.

The next round is Kiwi’s turn and she walks up to the targets and pulls off Rooster and Gunnar’s faces and returns to the invisible shooting line. She reloads her gun, all fifteen bullets locked and loaded. She steadies herself before she fires.

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine,” she says quickly as she fires.

Sticks and Big Daddy are rolling with laughter and I cock my head at the target. She’s shot two eyes, a nose and a mouth on the target before sending one flying through the middle of his head. It’s nearly perfect.

“Alright, so you can shoot when you’re standing still,” Pixie says. “Load it.” He nods to her hand. Tryke hands her the box of bullets and she reloads her gun. Pulling back the chamber, she’s ready to roll. Pixie takes up another target, replacing the one that’s been shot to shit. He pulls her smiley face one off and he holds it up to the sun, and the sun shines through it, leaving a smile face shining on his own. He folds it up and tucks it under his arm before hanging the clean one up. He returns the picture of Rooster’s head to the target.

From this distance, I can barely make out Rooster’s ears. I don’t know how anyone can make a shot like that from here, but it’s obvious Kiwi is up to the challenge.

“Alright, Kiwi. Give him your best. But you have to look at Tryke,” Pixie says. “Not the target.”

I look over at Sticks who is obviously biting his tongue to stop from laughing. “Better yet, why don’t you stand in front of me, or behind me and you can cover my eyes,” she challenges. Now that Pixie is out of her line of sight, he’s moved over toward Tryke. She turns to face them both. Her arm extended, she starts walking toward them, firing in rapid succession over her shoulder, shell casings flying, her body moving, her eyes never leaving Tryke, my eyes never leaving the target.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I sputter as she fires off the last bullet.

Four in his head, square, four in his chest and one in the general area of the target’s crotch. Her gun is letting off some smoke as she holds it up to her lips and blows the barrel.

Tryke explodes with laugher. Sticks and Big Daddy are staring like idiots. She cocks her head at Pixie. “Care to challenge?”

He puts his hands up in mock defense. “No, ma’am, I don’t.”

“She keeps this shit up and Wicked Angels just might induct its first woman,” Big Daddy says, clearly shocked.

“She rides too,” Tryke says, humor in his voice and light in his eyes.

“Oh, now that’s one way to get under Rooster’s skin,” Cowboy, who’s been quiet since before we came out here, says. “Let her ride.”

I walk up behind Kiwi as she holsters her empty gun beneath her arm. I wrap my arms around her and whisper in her ear, “My dick is so fucking hard right now. I want to bend you over and fuck you stupid, right here in front of everyone.”

“Caveman,” she murmurs, humor coloring her tone.

“You ever want a job, give me a call,” Sketch says. “I know a few guys who could learn a thing or two from you.”

She laughs, “It’s one thing to shoot a paper target, it’s a whole other thing to shoot a living being.”

“Don’t let her bullshit you. I took her hunting once. Just once. Sticks shakes his head. “She nailed that dear perfectly in the chest, it barely bled it died so fast.”

“Oh bullshit,” she counters. “Exaggerating much?”

“Okay, it bled, but not as much as it would have, it literally dropped dead.” Sticks puffs up proudly.

“I have to get to work,” Kiwi says. “So what’s the plan?”

We spend the next hour going over the details before we leave. Cowboy calls Loni to let her know Kiwi’s been held up but she’d be there before it gets really busy.

Before we leave, she reloads her gun and her two spare clips from Tryke’s stash and puts them back in their places. Tryke stands before her, and all the questions, answers, and mixed emotions between them are palpable. I step back, watching from a distance, allowing them a minute to themselves.

Kiwi touches the scar running down Tryke’s cheek and he wipes a tear from hers. They don’t appear to say anything; they don’t need to, not really. I’m just glad the secret’s out of the bag. I couldn’t stand holding it in anymore. It’s bad enough she had a reason to hate me over it, holding it in much longer and I was gonna fucking lose my shit.

It was the unspoken secret between us. Cowboy is the only other Roswell Angel who knew. We never let Opie in on that fact. We were too afraid he’d figure out a way to use it to his advantage. I guess maybe we always knew Opie would turn tail as soon as he could.

She climbs on the back of my bike and her hand traces over my cock. “Bitch,” I groan and she laughs against my back. She keeps it up the whole way back to her place.

It’s five-thirty when we arrive and Piper is eating when we step into the house. She comes over and gives Kiwi a hug and then latches on to me. “Missed you, Loki,” she says then she kisses my cheek.

“What have I become? The invisible woman?” Lily teases her.

“Loki let me have ice cream for lunch,” she reminds me.

“This is true.” Lily nods and smiles. “He did, didn’t he? Yeah, I’d miss him too.”

I set Piper down and she takes my hand. “I want to show you something.” She pulls me toward the kitchen.

“I’m gonna go get ready,” Kiwi lets us know and she disappears.

Piper shows me a drawing she did. “What’s that?” I ask her.

“It’s you, mommy, and me,” she says pointing to each of us respectively.

“What are we doing?” I ask her.

“Riding your bike.” Her excitement is clear. Her personality is dripping off the page she’s colored, and I can tell she’s gotta be a handful in school, but her drawing is really good.

“Well done, princess.” I kiss her on top of her head. “I’m gonna go find mommy, okay?”

“Okay,” she says but wraps her arms around my neck for a tight squeeze before she lets me go.

Leaving Piper to her coloring, I start toward Kiwi’s bedroom. My cock is hard as fuck, but with each step I grow more and more pissed off. There’s been a lot of fucked up shit these last twenty-four hours, but what I can’t fathom is why revenge is so important to her? I get it, I want Rooster, Gunnar and maybe even Opie, dead, too, but that’s my job, not hers. Not when she has my daughter to take care of.

Why? Her parents are gone, left her at a young age so why in the fuck would she risk her life and leaving Piper without her?

I need answers.

I keep walking down the hall and into her bedroom, expecting to see her there, but I don’t, instead I find her in the shower.