The air conditioning in my truck hadn’t been enough to cool me down on the drive home from the gym early Wednesday morning. I was still sweating like a mule when I grabbed my gym bag from the back seat and headed inside, where I stood in the kitchen to drink two full glasses of water.

I went to my bedroom to find my bed still occupied by the sexy brunette I’d hit up on the patio the day before on my way to Ryder’s. She’d been, as I suspected, wild between the sheets. Her girlfriends hadn’t been all that bad either. But I’d kicked the blonde and the redhead out after midnight and invited the brunette to stay.

I might have been mistaken, but I was pretty sure her name was Emily. Or Julie. Or something along those lines.

She was tangled up under my gray sheets and had one bare leg and hip exposed. The curve of her body was delicious, and I grinned to myself as I passed by and went to shower.

When I came back out to the bedroom, she was just starting to wake up. Her hair was a chaotic mess from fucking straight through until morning, and her lips were swollen. She looked cute as hell, but I didn’t dare tell her that. This was a one time, hit it and quit it kind of situation. I wasn’t looking for anything long-term, especially not right now. The Lost Breed MC was knee deep in shit, and women had a way of fucking with my head and jumbling my priorities. I had to maintain focus and discipline. Ryder was counting on me.

Emily—or Julie—propped herself up on her elbows and watched me dress with a sleepy smile. “Where did you go off to so early this morning?”

“The gym,” I said as I stepped into my jeans and buttoned them up. “I didn’t want to wake you. Hope you don’t mind.”

She shrugged. “Nope. I was surprised to wake up and find you gone. Pretty trusting to leave a strange girl alone in your place with so much shit lying around.” She pointed her chin at my nightstand where one of my watches sat on a tray. She looked back at me. “A Montblanc, no less.”

“A girl who knows her watches,” I said, one of my eyebrows arching with approval.

Emily—or Julie—swung her legs over the bed and stood. She was a sight to behold with strong thighs and the poise of a ballerina. She brushed her fingers over my bare chest as she passed to gather her clothes from the floor behind me. She pulled her shirt over her head without bothering to put her bra on. “My dad was a collector. I can spot a luxury watch a mile away. You have good taste.” She glanced at the rest of my collection on top of my dresser.

My work before joining the Lost Breed had afforded me a lifestyle that did not match my rugged reputation. I was a collector of fine things, including women, and I enjoyed pieces of art like watches. I was also guilty for spending what some might consider a little too much money on suits, shoes, and cologne.

Sue me.

Once Emily—or Julie—was dressed, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “This was fun. You have my number should you ever want to, you know, fool around. I’m not looking for anything more than that right now.”

“You’re speaking my language, kitten,” I said, giving her perky ass a nice little pat. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

I said goodbye to her at the front door and watched her hips sway as she went out to her car. I might call her. I might not. I probably should have double-checked what her name was.

I was in the middle of washing my bike in the driveway when a familiar name flashed across my phone screen as a call came in. I dried my hands on my pants and picked up the call. “Warren,” I said.

Warren was my old boss. He ran an underground enforcement crew that worked for a particularly dangerous mafia family in New York City. Had it not been for Ryder, I would still be in that life. Or I’d be dead and six feet under. Warren’s voice was as crackly and dry as I remembered. He was probably still smoking a pack a day to deal with his stress. “Derek,” he drawled. “I was surprised to catch wind that you were putting feelers out there about a certain prisoner eligible for early release.”

“It’s good to hear from you too.”

Warren chuckled. At least, that’s what I interpreted the breathless wheezing through the speaker to be. “Meet me at the old hand-off spot. I have information for you. Come alone.”

“See you in twenty.”

When I approached the old bench in the park I used to meet Warren, I had flashbacks of being a lot younger and a lot dumber. I used to saunter up to this bench on a weekly basis, where Warren would hand me a manila envelope with my cash and the information for that week’s job. Sometimes it was theft or blackmail or a show of force assignment. It was always illegal.

This time felt strange. Warren looked a little worse for wear. He was probably close to his fifties now, and wrinkles were starting to appear on his face. He was dressed in a light gray suit with a blue tie and pointed black shoes. His blond hairline was receding, and his jaw was looking a little softer when he turned to look up at me with a cigarette hanging out of one side of his mouth.

The first thing I did as I sat down was look to see if he had an envelope. Nope.

“You’re looking fit,” Warren observed.

“You’re looking like you have a bad case of smoker’s lung.”

Warren’s green eyes twinkled, and he chuckled. He put the cigarette out on the bench beside him and tossed the butt in the grass at his feet. “I’ve missed that. All my boys do now is kiss my ass and try to win my favor. It’s a damn shame I lost you. That mouth of yours was annoying at the time, but money can’t buy an honest man these days.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure one will come along one of these days.”

“One of these days could always be today, and one could always be you,” Warren offered.

“Thanks, but no. I’ve got a soft spot to land, and I’m not fucking that up.”

“Still running with Moretti, hey?”

I nodded. “Until I die, Warren.”

Warren held up his hands to admit defeat. “I hear you. I hear you. But should the tables ever turn, you know you have a spot as my right-hand man. Any time you want it. It’s yours.”

“Thank you, Warren,” I said, knowing I just had to make him feel heard in order to move on. “So, what did you call me here for? You know about this bastard, The Devil's Hand?”

Warren nodded slowly. “Anyone who’s anyone knows who he is. A damn plague upon this earth, if you ask me. He’s cost me many men and my associates’ men. I hope you’re not treading too close to him, Derek. I’d hate to read your obituary in the paper one morning while having my cigarette on the balcony.”

“Your cigarettes will kill you before he kills me.”

Warren chuckled. “You do not know him as well as I do, then. You are aware that he’s insane, right? No remorse. No shame. No honor code. He is a merciless killer who abides by no rules. He does as he wants when he wants.”

“He killed one of my brothers.”

“Only one?” Warren asked.

I clenched my jaw. “That’s all he’s going to get. We’re going to bring him down.”

“You and Moretti?”

“Me and whoever else has the balls to go after him.”

Warren nodded, but it wasn’t genuine. Then, he blew out a long sigh and reached in his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He sparked another one up. “I have inside information that he will be released early, Derek. All he’s getting is a slap on the wrist. He has connections. People pulling strings for him.”

“When are they releasing him?”

“Don’t overreact. I don’t want to draw any attention to us. And I know this will piss you off. He’ll be out Friday afternoon.”

“Fuck,” I growled.

Warren nodded. “Fuck. Yes. If you’re hoping to catch up with him, I also have been told that he’ll be at Kadia nightclub on Saturday with some of his boys to celebrate his freedom. If I were you, I’d find someone who has exceptional aim, and I’d kill him from a distance. It’s the only way to ensure you don’t incur any more fatalities.”

I rolled my shoulders. Out on Friday? That was fucking bullshit. He’d killed a man. My fellow Lost Breed brother. Damn the system for its corruption. A gang member was less a life than another citizen, and the law used that to their advantage to let him off easy.

I got to my feet. “Thank you for meeting me.”

“You keep this shit between us, Derek. I don’t want my name on your tongue until you’re clear of this, you hear me? I could get myself killed talking to you about this shit.”

“I hear you. I won’t say a word.”

“Good,” Warren said, taking a long draw from his smoke. “Now get the fuck out of here. I’m meeting someone else in five.”

I left without saying anything else. At first, I wasn’t sure where I should go, and then I decided I needed to find Caleb and give him the head’s up. Caleb was a bouncer at Kadia, the trendiest club in New York City that played host to partygoers of all levels between wild and tame.

If The Devil's Hand walked into the club on Saturday and caught Caleb off guard, shit could get bad real fast.

I waited for Caleb in the gym parking lot by his car. He came out, his bag slung over his shoulder, and gave me a sheepish grin. “You look good draped up against my car like that.”

“Fuck off,” I growled, nudging his shoulder and jostling him around playfully.

Caleb chuckled and opened his back door to toss his bag in. Then, he slammed it shut and faced me with his arms crossed. “So. What’s wrong? You never show up out of the blue unless it’s bad news.”

“Not true.”

“Name a time.”

“Uh—”

“Don’t bother. There aren’t any.” Caleb leaned one hip against the car. “So what’s up?”

I raked my fingers through my hair. “The Devil's Hand is getting out of prison on Friday. He’ll be at Kadia on Saturday night. Will you be working the door?”

Caleb stuttered as he tried to process all the shit I’d just thrown at him. “Out on Friday? What the fuck? It’s only been a few weeks!”

“I know.”

“That’s so fucked up. Ryder is gonna be—”

“Are you working Saturday or not, Caleb?”

He clapped his mouth shut and nodded. “Yeah. Fuck. I’ll let the other boys know something might go down that night. Are you planning something?”

“I’m going to run it by Ryder before I discuss it.”

“Fair.” Caleb nodded. Then he groaned and slumped over. “I had plans with a girl on Saturday. Fucking tits. Now I’ll have to think of a stupid excuse to keep her from showing up.”

“A girl, hey?” I asked, wagging my eyebrows at him.

“Yeah. She’s fine as hell, man. And something special.”

“Special?” I teased.

“Fuck off.”

“Is she super duper special, bro? Does she make you all tingly inside?”

“Fuck off,” Caleb said again, taking a playful swipe at me.

I laughed and backed away toward my truck. “All right, all right. You keep your girl away from the club. I’ll be in touch.”

“Where are you heading now?”

“Ryder’s.”