“We have to do something about this asshole, and we have to do it now,” Op said as we sat in church the next morning. We’d been at X-Rated until fucking three a.m. dealing with those assholes and then had to spend a few hours trying to bring back some order to the mess they’d made of the place so we could open again today.

Thank God for Sugar and Kat and their quick thinking. We’d managed to get the baggy of pills out of the club without it being noticed, and with that gone the fucking cops had nothing.

I looked at the small bag of around twenty pills sitting in the middle of the table. All this fucking shit because of these little things. They are what Peter had used to torment Sugar. They’re what traffickers are using now to move women, and they’re the center of an investigation into the club—one that someone is trying to make damn well sure that we go down for.

“It’s not a coincidence that Ruby started working with us just over a month ago,” I started, leaning back in my chair. “It’s also not a coincidence that X-Rated and the club is on these assholes shit list. They want us to go down in a fiery blaze.”

Blizzard tapped his finger on the table. “That doesn’t mean they’re working with him, though. I want this shit off the streets just as much as they do. Unfortunately, someone’s pointed the finger at us, and now we are their sole focus.”

“Not just someone,” Optimus corrected, his brow creased. “Peter fucking Davenport.”

“What’s his end game? Does he really think that by taking us down that he’s gonna somehow get the entire state addicted to this ‘Manic’ shit?” Leo asked. “It seems stupid to waste so much time and effort on something so small.”

“Not exactly,” I said speaking up. “He’s ill, mixed with a little crazy. I managed to dig up the most recent file I could find from a hospital visit a few years back, and the doctor noted Narcissistic Personality Disorder.”

Camo snorted. “So he’s an asshole?”

I shook my head. “This shit goes well beyond being an asshole. It’s about being the best. His brain can’t compute the fact that someone might be better than him at something. He’s so focused on being superior and believes that he’s actually entitled to that. He thinks that people shouldn’t oppose him because he’s so freaking hot damn amazing.”

“So basically this whole thing is about him being pissed that we’re here and stopping his little side business from going ahead,” Blizzard concluded. “He hates that we’re more powerful right now than he is.”

I nodded. “There is no second, and he will do whatever it takes… no exaggeration… to get to where he needs to be.”

“What about this obsession he has with Sugar?” Op asked, folding his arms across his chest.

I lifted my hat off my head and placed it on the table so I could run my fingers through my hair. “From what I can tell, these people also feel as though they need to find that perfect person for them to love. With Sugar’s upbringing and her family’s social status, mixed with the fact that she also has a psychiatric disorder which affects the way her brain thinks, all he sees is the perfect couple. She can get him places, and she also understands his crazy.”

The room was silent, and I could tell that some of my brothers felt a little awkward. After explaining to Optimus the situation with Sugar, we’d decided it was best that the club was also involved in the process of understanding exactly what was going on.

I was proud of her, as that same day she stood in front of these men and for the second time, explained who she was inside. I think it gave her strength to finally be able to stand up and say, ‘This is a part of me. It’s not something that will go away. But it’s also not something that I won’t let destroy me.’

And after all that, have each of these men look at her differently, but not in a negative way. It was like they were seeing the entire her, instead of the her she’d always put forward for the world to see. She had put her flaws out on the table and owned them, and they couldn’t help but respect her for that. Even now, though, I could still see they were unsure exactly how to treat her, or maybe wondering whether they should be different around her.

I’d done a lot of research on Bipolar Affective Disorder, and after spending time with Sugar and seeing her when she was at her worst, I felt like I had a pretty good understanding.

I sighed. “Here’s the answers to your questions. No… you don’t need to watch what you say around her. Yes… if you feel like you want to know, just ask her. She will tell you as long as she feels like you aren’t going to judge her. That’s her main fear. The thing that haunts her the most is that when it developed as a teenager, her family and friends and even the doctors… they made her feel like she was some kind of freak.” I shook my head, unable to believe that in today’s day and age, where it was more common for people to struggle with things like depression, anxiety and other things like it, that she was still made out to be this weirdo who was broken and not good enough.

Kev raised his hand, and I nodded to him. “She said something about triggers and panic attacks. What happens if she has one?”

“For the most part, her medication does a pretty good job of controlling them. She will have her moments when stress or triggers push her over the edge, if she freaks out, don’t touch her or tell her that it will be okay. Just let her know that you’re there for her,” I explained.

I saw Eagle and Leo both nodding in agreement.

Eagle cleared his throat. “I suffered a lot from PTSD when I got out of the army. Your brain plays tricks on you sometimes, and it can be hard to determine what is reality and what’s fake.”

I nodded, appreciating the fact that he could understand where I was coming from and what Sugar was feeling.

“Wrench!” The church doors slammed open, and I jolted upward, throwing my chair back as Chelsea came rushing in. “You gotta come out here… now.”

I ran round the table, Optimus hot on my ass and my brothers following closely behind. Stepping into the main room, the first thing I saw was Sugar standing at the bottom of the staircase, her phone held to her ear but a blank look on her face.

“Hey,” I said softly as I rushed forward. “Pass me the phone.”

She did exactly that before dropping down onto the bottom step. She seemed to be gazing away into space, not really aware of what was going on.

“Hello?” I asked sharply as I held the phone to my ear, looking over at Op who was watching Sugar with concern.

“She freaked out, didn’t she,” Eric said regretfully, and I growled low in my throat.

“You want to tell me why the hell that is?”

I heard rustling in the background and a door closing. “Because I felt like she should know before it was plastered all over the damn television,” he replied with just as much impatience. “Peter was killed last night, they found him dead in his house this morning when the cleaner showed up.”

I almost dropped the phone as he explained how his parents had been notified by police and that they had rung him to go around and identify the body because they would not be able to get on a flight until tonight. They wanted to know whether it was him, hoping I guess that they’d just made a mistake.

“How?” I asked, trying to get my brain to keep up. Sugar looked up at me, her mouth set in a hard line and her skin slightly pale.

“Shot twice in the head while he was in bed,” Eric replied, almost sadly. “Karma in a sense, I guess, but still… they’ll catch who did it…”

He let the words hang in the air, and my face hardened. “Hope they do,” I said coldly. Not missing the insinuation that I knew exactly what had happened. “I’d like to high-five whoever did have the balls.”

“Let her know she’ll probably hear from me soon. I was still listed as the executor of his will.” My lip raised up in anger. “And since they were still married—”

“Yeah, fine,” I snapped, cutting him off. The reminder, a short jab to my gut. I’m sure he loved that.

I hung up and held the phone tightly in my fist.

Sugar slowly stood from the step and looked directly into my eyes. “It’s over?” she questioned. The shock of what had happened beginning to fade and a look of relief sweeping over her. I hooked my arms around her shoulders and pulled her into my chest. Her arms linked around my waist and she took in a deep breath.

“Let’s not jump ahead of ourselves and assume anything,” Blizzard interrupted, always the voice of reason. “I know it seems like it’s done right now, but I’m sorry to say, people like him tend to leave unfinished business behind them.”

Sugar sagged in my arms, and as much as I wanted to reassure her that everything was fine and that it was all said and done, Blizzard was right. It wasn’t a time to relax, it was a time to get all our shit straight and think about the facts.

Even then though, I couldn’t help but be a little happy that someone had taken the bastard to his grave. Especially given how much restraint it had taken me not to do it myself after that shit that happened at Slider’s funeral.

I wanted the mother-fucker dead, as did Op and the rest of the club, but with people of importance such as him, we had to do shit the right way. People would notice he was missing. They would search, they would investigate, and with Sugar’s ties to the club, we’d be first on their list. One little mistake and we were done for.

Not that it mattered now. He was gone, and it wasn’t us.

We knew they’d still come knocking, but they’d find nothing.

And we could move the fuck on.