That motherfucker's trying to set me up.

Think I know why too. That asshole, Dawson, is in with the Pearls. Has been for years.

I should've caught on sooner. He stopped by every clean up gig I did for the Sheriff’s department. Those nasty, grim jobs, where he always said who he thought was responsible.

Never said the Pearls, but I’d known who he was referring to. He’d wanted me to see how they got rid of anyone in their way. In his way.

He’d made comments about Davey, too. Disguised them, claimed he’d heard I had a brother who died, and how hard some of those violent scenes had to be for me.

His remarks weren’t so often I caught on, but I sure as hell should have. And he never mentioned knowing Davey once.

Only thing I can't figure out is what the bastard wants from me. Or what Preston, dead or MIA, has to do with any of this. Dawson has to know I’d never sink to the level of working with the Pearls.

Fuck. That’s exactly what I’ve sank to.

But only to catch them.

To put an end to this.

The ranch is where it has to happen. That's always been the plan. Out of Dawson's jurisdiction.

It’s no wonder the Pearls have the power they do with a captain of the sheriff’s department on their side. Well, I have backup, too. The Grizzlies have come through for me.

A call to Blackjack, their national Prez, put me in touch with the new reorganized chapter in Phoenix. I never thought an old biker dude with long gray hair and a bad hip could leave me choked up, but fuck, there it is.

Remembering his words tears at my throat. Anytime, son. Any damn time. Whether you hung up the patch or not, you're family.

Some people blaze through your life for a few bright seconds. Others remain, even in the shadows, and no matter how infrequently you see them, they're there when the going gets tough.

Someday, I'll repay that old man. He saved my skin once, helped me get out when Fang, the dirty old President, didn't make that easy. Now, he might be saving my ass again.

Same with Blue.

Without her, I don’t know what I’d have done with Nat. It’s more than that, though. I’d wanted all this put behind me for years, for Davey’s sake, but now it’s stronger.

It’s for her sake, too. I can’t have a future while I’m focused on the past. A future including her.

By tomorrow this time, I’ll be well on my way to carving that future with sweat and fire.

This will be behind me.

If I'm careful, strong, and most of all, lucky.

My hands sweat when I steer the truck into the final fuel stop near Flagstaff. A Harley, black and sleek, turns off the road from the other direction. It parks on the other side of the pump.

The rider doesn’t take off his helmet, but I recognize him. Not too many men are that wide or tall. Civilians wouldn't be caught wearing the patch with the roaring bear. Or the blood red one-percenter patch near his collar.

We both make our selection. He jams one nozzle in his fuel tank while I do the same with mine.

“Good to see you, Monk. Been a long fucking time,” he says.

“Yeah. Too long.”

He flips up his shield and my throat gets hard. “Cross-Bones,” I growl.

He nods. It's a face I'll never forget. Half his teeth are still just as silver as I remember. A long scar lines his right cheek, merging into the end of his missing earlobe.

A long time ago, I’d trusted my life to this man. Followed him into danger on the road and in the worst corners of Phoenix. Besides Blackjack, he's the only reason I left the club with my life.

He worked his way up to Vice President in our chapter, back when times were bad. These days, he's top dog in Arizona, ever since the club cleaned up its act. Blackjack doesn't let dirty players rank in any chapter.

Once upon a time, old Cross-Bones was like a second father.

Before the army. Before I’d made the choice to change the path I’d been on. Before I had to leave the craziness behind.

“You sure you're ready?” he asks.

I want to ask him the same thing. Shit, I want to ask him why he’s doing this, but I already know.

Family.

I could be walking into a larger trap than the one I’ve set up. Swallowing, I nod.

He lifts the nozzle out of his bike’s tank and swipes his card. “The bait's been taken. Three o’clock a.m.”

“You have the coordinates?” I ask.

His partial grin is sarcastic. All silver. I take his crap. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t know every last in and out.

“I’ll have everything in place.” My back teeth clench as I squelch any fear trying to rise up inside me. It’s been years since I’ve put everything aside except for the mission at hand.

And it’s harder than it’s ever been. I didn't have Nat in those days. But now, I have to. “Everything.”

He starts his Harley and rides off. I finish fueling the truck and walk inside to pay. I also pick up a couple of snacks, mostly beef jerky, and bottles of water before getting back in the the driver's seat and heading north.

I can’t help but think about the last trip to the ranch, with Blue in the front beside me and Natalie chatting like a magpie in the backseat.

The memories of that weekend are too good. I have to bury them and concentrate on the plan.

The sun's already sinking low in the sky. I won’t have much daylight to get everything left in place. Urgency has me stepping harder on the gas pedal, hoping to turn the normal two hour trip into half that time.

I don’t dare sigh a breath of relief as I pull into the ranch. Grabbing the bag of snacks, I head to the house. Out of habit, I give the place a quick search before I grab the backpack from the top shelf in the closet.

Tossing it on the bed, I pull out two nines and ammo. After putting on the double shoulder holster, I insert the magazines into the guns and slide them into place.

I put my coat back on to cover the harness and check the other contents of the backpack before heading back out to my truck. The road to the shack is rough. I focus on driving rather than all the other thoughts that keep trying to steal my attention.

Ten years. That's how long I've lived for my daughter.

Now, when I think about living, think about the future, Blue gives me a brand new reason.

Same reason I need this shit with the Pearls done and over.

A deep rut makes the truck bounce so hard my head smacks the roof. I can’t act on the urge to rub it, or my knee from where it bashes the steering column. There's more to go. I have to keep both hands on the wheel to maneuver around the treacherous switchbacks that take me to the other side of the hill.

I arrive at the shack, and as I shut the truck off, I glance at the key chain. “Shit.” A sense of regret fills me as I look at the silver turtle.

Once, it was Davey’s. I’d given it to him for his sixteenth birthday. The turtle’s back was a piece of turquoise. Or had been. The stone must have fallen out when I hit that rut and slammed my knee against the column.

He’d had this in his pocket when he’d died. It was the one thing of his I’d kept. Usually, I only keep the ranch keys on this ring, but today, for some reason, I felt the need to clip it to my day-to-day chain.

Now, it's broke, like a bad fucking omen.

I glance to the floor mat, looking for the stone. It’s there. I pick it up and try to stick it back into the tiny prongs. It won’t go, so I push harder.

Then the back pops open. I’m stunned. Never knew it was hollow inside.

I’m baffled at what I see in the tiny compartment. It’s a memory chip. One from a camera. Lodged against the edges, still, never giving off a rattle.

The fuck? Davey had too many cameras to count, but why would a chip be in here?

I snap the turtle shut and unclip it from my keyring before putting it in my pocket with the stone. Then I head inside the shack to gather the explosives.

The sun's practically gone by the time I have the bombs and detonators in place. I’m almost back to the house when I notice headlights on the road leading into the yard.

My lights are off, but I double check just to make sure. I slow the truck in order to pull up behind a cluster of rocks.

It’s not long before the vehicle comes close enough for me to recognize.

Classic Mustang.

Blue.

Dark dread overshadows the excitement I normally feel, which flickers out way too fast. “Fuck. What's she doing here?”

I told her not to come. Told her to stay with Nat. Anger and worry storm through my veins.

I pull back on to the dirt path and arrive at the house, just as she’s climbing out of her car.

Blue holds up a hand as I jump out of the truck, sensing I'm about to give her an earful. “You said you needed my help.”

“Yeah,” I growl back. “To watch Natalie.” I gesture towards the car. “Where is she?”

“With my mother.”

I'd be even more worried if she'd brought my daughter.

I’m not as mad at her as I am the entire world. For years, I’ve focused on being a good father, a good man, yet the past just won't let go. It’s like I'm chained to it, and so's everybody else who walks into my life.

“How’d you even know where to find me?”

“Natalie pointed out you’d taken the keys to this place.” Blue steps closer, holding her hand out. “I have no idea what’s going on, but whatever it is, we're in this together. From beginning to end. You asked for my help, Brent.”

I don’t want to take her hand. She wasn’t in this at the beginning and I don’t want her involved now. Don’t want her hurt. Or worse.

“You need to leave, Blue. Right the fuck now.”

She drops her hand to her side and walks toward the house. “Not happening, Eden.”

I follow, and though the urge to grab her is strong, I resist. Knowing as soon as I touch her, I’ll want to hold on. Tight. “No fooling. It’s too dangerous for you to be here.”

“Why?” she asks while we walk into the house. “There's going to be a shoot out or something?”

She’s being flippant. I’m not.

I close the door behind me and pull open my coat. “Close enough. You can't stay.”

Her eyes lock on the guns in my holsters. She realizes I'm not joking.

Fear flashes in her eyes as they meet mine. So does tenacity. “Whatever. It's too late. Tell me what I can do.”

I admire her grit, but shake my head. “Leave. Leave now.”

“That’s not happening.” She walks into the center of the room and looks around before asking, “Is this where your brother met with the Pearls?”

“No.” I shrug then. “I don’t know, really. Don’t know where he met them. What went down between them. I just know they're the reason he died, and now they want something from me.”

She’s here, goddamn it. I might as well accept that because she’s too stubborn to leave. And there isn't enough time or energy to fight her on top of everything else. It’s also too dangerous. Both the Pearls and the Grizzlies are on their way.

“Who told you Davey was involved with the Pearls?”

“Someone.”

“Another acquaintance?”

“You could say that.”

She throws her hands in the air. “Quit being so allusive. If you can’t trust me, why’d you ask for my help?”

“I asked you to take care of Nat.”

“She’s with mom and she's perfectly fine. Safer than with me.” She steps closer. “Listen, I want to help. I want this over. I really, really do. But I’ve never done anything illegal so you need to give me a reason why that's the only choice besides –”

She snaps her mouth shut and closes her eyes. I put a finger under her chin and lift her face to look at me again. The need to know what she’d been about to say hits stronger than anything else I’ve felt tonight, and that's saying a lot. “Besides what?”

Something akin to anger flashes in her eyes. “Besides the truth. I love you, Eden. I trust you.”

Fuck me.

If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never be able to describe what rocks my insides right then. It's like a hydrogen bomb. Fire and lightning, out of control, filling me in a way I’d never been full before.

Like every empty spot, every hole inside me, suddenly goes solid. Real. Warm and alive.

I gather her against my chest and bury my face in her hair, anchoring my nose in her trademark blue stripe. “I love you, too, Blue. Love you like no woman I've ever had.”

I could have stood there forever, just holding her. She pulls back first.

“Okay,” she says, smiling. “Now that we have that out of the way.” Her smile fades. “What’s happening tonight? Who are you here to shoot?”

Leave it to me to find a woman smarter and more forward than I am. I did. And don’t want it any other way.

“I'm not helpless, you know. I have my conceal and carry permit,” she says.

“You do?”

She nods. “I’ve just never gotten around to buying a gun.”

“You don’t need a permit in Arizona,” I say, amazed but not shocked by what she's said.

“I know, they taught us that in the class. I took basic safety because I thought if I ever decided to buy a gun and carry it, I should know what I’m doing.”

She’s too serious for me to laugh at, though I am amused.

“I’ve taken self-defense classes, too.”

“You have?”

“Yes. I just get sort of clumsy when I’m nervous.”

“Don't I know it,” I say, remembering when we first met.

She holds out both hands and shrugs. “So, who are you here to shoot?”

Considering all that, it’s safer for her to know the truth. Not that I have any plans to let her within thirty feet of any live guns and the assholes behind them.

“Told you, I used to belong to a motorcycle club. One that didn’t always operate on the right side of the law. It’s full of men, many former military. They're the reason I joined the army. I thought I'd do my tours of duty and come home, make a life with the patch, but Cindy got pregnant. Natalie was born. I broke my ties with them when I got back in civilian life. It was hard, but a couple good guys understood. Helped me get out. We never spoke much after.”

“Until now.”

I nod. “I need their help to get this settled with the Pearls.”

“Why?”

“Because of Davey.”

“Why really?”

Christ. It’s almost like she’s forcing me to break through the fog that’s been filling my head for years. “It was a Grizzly, Cross-Bones, who told me Davey was putting his nose in things he shouldn’t. That he was going to get himself hurt. Or worse.” I don’t want the memories, I realize.

That’s why there’s fog. I’d been here before, with Nat, at the ranch, when Cross-Bones Haggerty had shown up. I close my eyes and open them again, ready to give her one last missing piece.

* * *

“What are you doing here?” I ask even before he climbs off his bike. Natalie’s playing in the screened in porch with her kitchen set. Only five years old and she's already memorizing English teas. I told her to stay there as soon as I’d heard the familiar sound of a Harley.

“Need to talk to you, Monk,” he says, using a nickname I haven't heard in eons.

“Not interested,” I growl. “I'm out. Remember?”

The past few years haven't been easy, transforming myself into the sort of father Natalie needs. Sure, there were times when I’d craved the old days. Partying. Running wild. Women. Taking what I wanted. The army had been a lot like that, too, when I wasn't in a war zone. The whole now or never attitude. The constant reminders of death.

“Won’t say you wouldn’t be welcomed back, but I’m not here to recruit you. Relax.” Haggerty lights a cigarette and takes a long draw between his silver teeth. “It’s about your little brother. He’s not you, Monk, and he’s gonna get his ass stung. Bad.”

“Davey?” I shake my head and laugh. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Wrong, boy. I do. The Pearls are playing serious eight-ball these days, and don’t think twice about clearing the table. Pulling people in, bright-eyed and bushy tailed. Expanding like a fuckin' plague.”

My nerve-endings tingle. He’s not talking about a game of pool, but about the Pearls discarding anyone in their way. Using anyone and anything to make blood money. I've seen their latest scraps in the news, too. The ugly aftermath.

Haggerty squishes his cig with the toe of one boot, then swings his leg over the seat of his bike. “I came as a friend, Monk. All I've ever been. Your old Veep. Not an enemy. But that’s all I can do. Send you a message. We both know what it's like, looking out for family.”

* * *

“Brent?”

I shake my head, clearing the memories.

Blue frowns as she asks, “What was Davey doing?”

“I never found out,” I say, pissed at myself for not digging deeper then.

If I had, this wouldn’t be happening, and Davey could still be alive. I can’t change that. “Whatever it was, the Pearls want me to pay for it. Last night, I called a club member. There’s no proof, but it’s thought that Dawson was in with the Pearls all along. I believe he’s trying to pin Preston’s death on me. Payback for not giving into the Pearls.” This was my only option, but I’m not sure she’ll see it.

“I called a meeting with the Pearls. Here. Tonight. Made 'em believe I'm ready to bury the hatchet, filling up their coffers.” I gesture in the direction of the kitchen behind her. “Beyond that hill you see from the back porch, there's a small valley that can only be accessed by an old mining road off the highway. I told the Pearls I’d meet them there tonight.”

“Alone?” Her soft eyes widen.

I nod. “Close. The Grizzlies will be there, too. Out of sight until needed.”

“Needed? For what?”

I shake my head, not wanting to reveal the rest, but the look in her eyes has me relenting. “I need to cut off the head. The masterminds behind it all. That’s the only way this ends. My plan isn’t to listen to what the Pearls want, but to set up a rumble between the Pearls and my old MC.”

“A rumble? You mean a fight.” She points to my holsters. “One with guns.”

“Ideally, it won't get that far.” I plan on using more than guns, but that much I'll keep hidden from her. “If all goes well, they'll be done before they slink away to fire any shots.”

“When?”

“Three o’clock a.m.”

“There has to be a better way,” she says. “The police, the –”

“Wrong. If Dawson’s involved, others could be, too. That’s why it has to be here. Out of his district. Away from any eyes and ears who'll warn them.”