In the bedroom at the clubhouse, Johanna slept fitfully wrapped around Chief. He rubbed her back, wide awake.

Yesterday, he'd failed to protect his family.

Making sure nothing happened while Johanna rested and Olin struggled to remain comfortable downstairs, he'd spent all night going from one to the other, worrying as if that would keep them breathing.

He needed to find Skidd to rectify his mistake. A mistake that would stay with him.

Half the club was out riding a fifty-mile radius around the club, checking the bars, making contact with associates of the club, getting the word out that Skidd had a mark on his back, put on there by Brikken.

One man had brought hurt upon his family.

A forty-five-year-old man who'd been a member of Brikken for twenty-six years ratted the shipment date to the Feds, causing Chief to spend four years away from his legacy. He'd taken away eighteen months from Jett's life. He threatened and stole from Johanna. The same man stabbed Olin and almost killed him. When that man ran, he pulled Chief away from Johanna and put her at risk with Nene.

She could've died yesterday.

Olin could've died yesterday.

If Nene had told Johanna to swallow all the pills to stop Chief from being shot, his crazy-ass bug would've taken every single drug with no thought to herself.

And, he'd done that to her.

He'd made Johanna love him.

The second he'd pulled her from the closet and took her to the clubhouse, he'd set their lives together into action. To send her away where she'd be safe and have a life outside Brikken was impossible.

She was a part of him. He inhaled deeply, taking in her sweet scent. She'd found the good in him he no longer recognized.

And, one fucking man threatened to take that away from him. A man that Nene claimed was his half-brother. The accusations in the open, if true, meant Rollo made two mistakes in his life. He'd slept with Nene after being with Chief's mom.

He inhaled through a tight chest. Mistakes Chief wouldn't repeat in his own life, so his sons would be stronger, more powerful, to lead Brikken in the future.

Brikken needed to be run by leaders. Sons needed to learn from their fathers. From the good and the bad.

A soft knock brought him out of bed. He looked back at Johanna. She continued to sleep.

Opening the door, he stepped into the hallway. Keeffe handed him a piece of paper. He read the address, recognizing that it was on the west side of Tacoma in the industrial area.

"Six of our men have Skidd. They found him at that location. They're waiting for further instructions," said Keeffe.

He crinkled the paper in his fist. "Have them bring the motherfucker here. I need time with him."

"I'll make the call." Keeffe looked down the hallway and brought his gaze back to Chief. "I'll get the women out of here before the riders arrive. Do you want someone to escort Johanna home?"

He needed her. "No, she'll stay. Let Karla stay with Olin, too. All other women leave. Have them take Skidd to the garage. I'll want to deal with him alone."

"Chief..." Keeffe's mouth hardened.

He wouldn't change his mind. Right now, only Johanna and Karla heard what Nene claimed. The situation with Skidd went deeper than club business.

It was personal.

It was family.

"It stands." He straightened his beard. "Nene?"

"They buried her off Brikken land like you ordered. The location will be noted at the next meeting." Keeffe's tone held no judgment. "Anything else?"

"Make the phone call." He opened the door and went inside the room.

Johanna slept in the same position he'd left her. He stretched out beside her and took her breast in his mouth. Closing his eyes, he sucked, letting the calmness she brought him wash over him. He needed this. He needed her.

Everything he'd do today was for the family. He would not let another one of them be hurt by Skidd.

Johanna caressed his head and placed her leg over his hip. Her naked warmth surrounded him. In a perfect world, he'd be right here, sucking on his woman's breast, her arms cradling his head, her pussy heating the front of his jeans. He'd keep her safe. Happy. Loved.

Slipping his hand between her legs, he spread her wetness with his finger, and she pressed against his touch. He'd do anything to protect her.

Set up to fight her fears on her own, Johanna had struggled. He'd taken her from the hardships and softened her world. He'd made mistakes along the way and righted those wrongs. Gave her freedom and pulled her back many times, until she'd chosen him, time and again, passionately.

He plunged his finger inside of her. The tightness holding him there.

Johanna pumped her hips, taking his finger deeper, and moaned sleepily. He drew her nipple deeper into his mouth, feeding off her arousal, wanting her to come for the both of them.

Leaving his finger inside of her, he used his thumb to circle her clitoris. Her body rubbed against him, undulating from head to toe, rolling softly. His cock pulsed to hardness at the plump softness of her breasts pressing against his face. Holding her pleasure in his hand, he brought her to orgasm, her sweetness coating his hand.

Her rapid breathing broken by a deep pull of air calmed him. Strengthened because of her, he gently let go of her nipple, kissing the redness he created and lifted his head.

She brought her hands up and held his beard. "Morning."

He kissed her lips. "Good?"

Last night, she'd developed a headache from the drugs she'd willingly taken to save his life and the aftermath of expelling the pills out of her body. He studied her perfect eyes, unable to forget the dilated pupils and dullness that had come over her yesterday.

"My head is better." She stroked his face. "How's Olin?"

"He slept through the night, and Karla was able to wake him at the times Doc wanted him to take the pain medication. He's in a lot of hurt, but the medicine is helping him relax, and the blood transfusion from Karla gave him enough strength to live." He took in her flushed cheeks and knew that when he walked out the door, she'd be more relaxed because of the pleasure he'd given her. "I need to step away for a couple of hours, bug."

Her brows lowered. "Why?"

"Business," he muttered, kissing her forehead. "Stay in bed and sleep."

She pushed herself into a sitting position. "I'm not tired."

He stood from the bed. "Then, maybe I should stick my hand between your legs again and —"

"Don't distract me." She pulled the blanket around her and scooted off the bed. "You're going after Skidd, aren't you?"

Already dressed, he slipped his vest on and grabbed his pistol off the dresser and tucked it under his belt. "If you need anything Keeffe will be in the clubhouse. Karla's with Olin if you want to check on them. Stay inside until I return."

"Chief?" She followed him across the room. "Don't leave."

He paused at the door and took her in his arms. No matter how many times he'd shown her how he always came back to her, he couldn't undo the damage done to her before he came into her life.

"I will always come back to you." He tilted her head and kissed her softly. "Every damn time."

She melted against him. He held her tighter. To secure their future, he needed to stay on top of problems that threatened his family.

He stepped away from her and walked out the door. Catching Keeffe downstairs, he lifted his chin. Everything was set up. His vice president would be in charge of those inside the clubhouse while he concentrated on Skidd.

Outside, the roar of motorcycles grew louder. He pushed the door closed behind him and walked to the garage as the Brikken riders rode onto the property.

Surrounded by members, Jett hauled Skidd off his motorcycle, not giving him any chance to escape. While he had the moment, Chief studied the man. The non-descript brown hair like fifty percent of men could be inherited from anyone. Around six feet tall, Skidd was shorter than Jett, Olin, and Thorn. Rollo had been six feet four inches tall, the same as Chief.

The prominent brow bone and jawline from Rollo that was passed down to him and his boys were absent in Skidd. Though Nene's softer features were more generic and could account for Skidd's smaller chin and flat forehead.

He walked into the garage and sat on one of the rollaway stools. Removing his pistol, he placed the forty-caliber weapon on this thigh.

Jett pushed Skidd into the garage. He lowered his chin to his son, welcoming him to the meeting, and watched Jett close the door.

Skidd backed up, looking around the large area for an escape, knowing there was none.

"It's just you, me, and Jett. Relax." He lifted his hands, showing them that the only weapon he had was in plain sight.

Skidd shook his head. "Kill me."

"I will." He picked up his pistol, stood, and walked forward two steps. "But how you die will depend on the answers you give me. You want to fuck around and bullshit me, I have days to watch you take your last breath. As a member of Brikken, you know how punishment is dealt out."

Skidd's skin paled. "Where's Nene?"

"Dead." He walked over and leaned his elbows on top of a roll-away tool cart.

The muscle in Skidd's jaw twitched. Chief lowered his gaze. "I suppose in her fucked-up way, Nene believed in you to the end. She came to protect you. Unfortunately, Nene took the coward's way out, going after Johann and the mother to my sons before killing herself with an overdose of pills. What I'd like to know is if there's any truth to the fact that Nene was your mother?"

Skidd remained quiet, refusing to talk.

He pushed off the roll-away and walked closer to Skidd. "Who was your father?"

"Shoot me," said Skidd.

He chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes, Nene was your mother, considering you want to take the easy way out like her."

"Fuck you."

"You have nothing to gain by not answering. You're a walking dead man. Once you're gone, you're gone. You leave nothing behind." He continued looking at Skidd and said, "Jett, take his vest."

Skidd removed it before Jett approached him and threw the leather on the ground. Chief picked up a can of gasoline and stepped over, dousing the material.

When he finished, he walked over to Skidd and poured the remaining gas over the man's boots. "Brikken Motorcycle Club was built on loyalty, starting with devotion to family. You swore on the patch, and we've removed it. You're no longer a Brikken member."

Skidd's laughter lacked humor and ran heavy on fear. "Rollo made sure of that when he gave me to another couple to raise, so don't fucking talk to me about the great loyalty you hold on to."

Setting the gas can on the ground, he straightened. "There's no proof that Rollo and Nene birthed a son, except the claims of a mad woman and her asshole son."

Sweat rolled down Skidd's face, his shirt already damp. "He brought me into Brikken."

"No record of you prior to nineteen years old. There's no proof that Rollo claimed you," he said.

"He was my father." Skidd gritted his teeth. "Nene whored herself out to him and then you to make sure I had a place here. Do you think she wanted to be your bitch?"

"And, instead of taking that family loyalty. Taking your place as president after me and before my sons, you decided to go a different route." He stepped toe to toe with Skidd. "You fucking ratted Brikken out with the Feds and sent me to prison. You stabbed my son and almost killed him. You threatened my woman.  You are no son of Rollo's, and you are no brother of mine."

He grabbed hold of Skidd's wrist and put the pistol in his hand. Then, he raised Skidd's arm and forced him to put the pistol to his own head.

Stepping closer, Chief got in Skidd's face. "The only thing you inherited was your mother's cowardliness."

Chief stepped back with his empty hands in the air. Off to the side, he knew Jett had his pistol aimed at Skidd. He didn't have to look. He didn't have to ask. He didn't doubt that his son would protect him because that's the loyalty in which he raised his sons.

"You have two choices." Chief pulled out a book of matches and tore one match off, striking it against the abrasive cover. "Slow or fast."

He tossed the lit match toward Skid. The gasoline soaked into Skidd's boots instantly caught on fire.

Skidd stomped his boots against the concrete floor, but the fire continued to lick the bottom of his jeans. Chief could almost smell the fear coming off Skidd roll through the room. He walked over to Jett and stood beside his son, watching the punishment for betraying Brikken.

Chief crossed his arms and widened his stance. "The only way Brikken will survive is if there is loyalty from the members. One weak member and our lives will forever be changed. We owe it to the club to lead them, son."

It took less than three minutes.

Skidd stopped trying to put out the flames and stood still. Chief crossed his arms and watched as Skidd looked forward and calmed. Only a betrayer would take the cowards way out of this life.

Skidd raised the pistol to his mouth and pulled the trigger. The shot echoed in the garage a moment before Skidd's body tumbled.

Jett put his weapon away. Chief laid his hand on his son's shoulder. "We protect the family. It could've been Olin we buried today."

"Is it true?" Jett looked at his father. "Was he Rollo's son?"

"Yes," said Chief.

"How can you be sure?"

"Because Skidd wouldn't have gone to the depth of his betrayal unless he believed there was a bigger prize at the end." He looked his son in the eyes. "Something to remember, as you have two brothers. As the oldest, make sure they don't wander from the family."

His oldest son nodded. He would get used to handing out punishments and watching his back against those who threatened Brikken. Someday, Jett would stand with his future son, and teach him the same lesson.

Chief stepped over to the wall, removed the fire extinguisher, and walked over to the deceased ex-Brikken member. Putting out the fire, he turned to Jett and ordered him to get a team of six, including Thorn—who needed to experience the backend of Brikken, to take Skidd off the property and bury him.

He walked outside and excused the rest of the members. With business taken care of for the day, he walked around the corner of the garage and headed toward the creek. He took his phone out of his back pocket and called Keeffe.

His vice president answered on the first ring. "Chief?"

"Give me a half hour and then tell Johanna to walk to the creek to find me." He disconnected the call and put his phone back in his pocket.