I close the door to Ryan’s new room and then lean against it for strength. My eyes shut and I ignore the emptiness I feel deep inside. For as long as I can remember, my club has been a part of me. Being without it now feels wrong, it feels empty as fuck. The silence in the house bears down on me like a physical thing and it almost suffocates me.

Ryan doesn’t like the new house. He misses Dakota—Crusher and Dani’s boy. He misses being part of the group too. They’re our family and it sucks like hell giving it up.

I had to. I didn’t have a choice. I know it—but it doesn’t mean I like it. I walk toward the kitchen, which just so happens to be on the same floor as the bedrooms. I’m not much on caring how a house is designed, but I will admit that it’s handy as hell. I grab a bottle of Patron and sit down at the small table in the corner.

Is drinking alone a sign of your life being fucked out the ass? If not, it should be. I take the first swig and let the burn hit me hard. I don’t bother pouring it in a glass. There’s no one else here to drink. There’s no one else here to do anything. There’s no loud wailing of pipes as the brothers pull into the garage. No music blaring in the bar, no candy swinging their asses for my enjoyment. There’s nothing.

It has to be this way.

That’s what I keep reminding myself. Not sure I’ll ever make myself fully believe it. I had to shut myself off though. I never learn. First there was fucking Vicki and then Violet. I mean what the fuck does it take to smarten my ass up? A damn house to fall on me?

The problem is, I can’t be sure this last double cross came completely from Violet. There has to be some way that she broke through my security measures—other than just sleeping in my bed and fucking me senseless.

She had to have help.

At least that’s what keeps screaming in my gut. It screamed the entire time that I stayed with the club while Devil was going through his shit with Torrent. Violet has been gone awhile—a fact that has marked me in a way that nothing else has—even if I knew it had to be done. But, she was gone and there was still a burning in my gut, telling me something wasn’t right. I put Devil and the club first and yet another attempt was made to take Ryan from me.

It just feels like these attempts keep happening no matter what I do. It’s almost as if it is easy for them. That would mean there’s someone on the inside—a brother that is fucking me over. A limp dick who is trying his best to destroy me. If I was the only one involved, I wouldn’t have cared. I’d have stayed at the club and combed the place back and forth, setting traps to find the hidden snake among my family.

I didn’t have that luxury with Ryan involved.

My first priority is to keep him safe. I can do that better when I’m not looking over my shoulder for the next knife to be thrust into my back. I pick up my bottle and walk outside on the small deck—which really is more like a balcony. There’s room for a grill—which I don’t have—and a couple of seats. Those I do have. They’re plastic and who knows how fucking old they are. The white has slowly faded into a shitty gray color—so I figure they are almost as old as I feel. I grab one and plop my ass in it and let my feet prop up on the railing. I take another swig of tequila and lift my eyes to the sky. I watch as the sun slowly begins to disappear and the sky explodes into hues of pinks, purples and oranges. Any other time, I would think it was pretty. Right now, it just serves to make me feel more alone.

My head jerks as I hear the sound of a door being slid open. Another fucking thing I hate about this dump and something that will have to change. Sliding glass doors are a fucking nightmare when it comes to protection. I’m definitely going to have to install new doors here.

My gaze goes to the adjoining unit beside me. That one has a much larger deck because the previous owners had it installed. The new neighbor obviously enjoys it because there’s plenty of plush seating and flowers on the deck. It’s pretty—if you get into that kind of thing. I have a dick, and that’s not something a man really takes much notice in.

I expected her to try and talk to me and I was totally prepared to shut her down, but her gaze never even strays toward me. She makes a beeline for an outdoor sofa which has pillows piled so high on it that I don’t know how they keep from falling to the floor. She slides on it, her back to me and her face looking up at the sky and she lies down just like that—watching the sky and nothing else around her. It’s foolish, but this chick and I have probably led very different lives. She’s probably never had to look over her shoulders. I don’t know how to even relate to that, but I imagine it would be fucking heaven.

I close my eyes, blotting the woman out. I meant what I said to her earlier. I don’t need her trying to be friendly and I especially don’t want her near Ryan. She doesn’t exist to me.

“Star light, star bright,” she whispers so softly it feels like the words float on the breeze. “First star I’ve seen tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish, I wish tonight,” she finishes and there’s a sadness in her voice that calls to me, but I ignore it too. This woman is nothing to me.

Nothing.

“Please let tomorrow be better than today,” she whispers up into the heavens and my lips spread into a smile.

Not a good smile.

Fuck, there’s nothing good to smile about. This smile is tainted with darkness that has permeated so deep inside that it is now a part of me. This smile is as jaded as they fucking come and full of derision.

“There’s one thing I’ve learned about life,” I tell her and I hear her gasp and a rustling of the pillows. I don’t bother opening my eyes, instead opting for another drink from my bottle. Once I do that, I hold it loosely around the neck, letting it rest on my lap. “There’s no great power and wishing on the fucking stars is as useless as pissing in the wind and not expecting blowback.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” the girl says and it’s clear that she’s pissed at me—probably because I laid the law down earlier. I don’t really give a fuck. She can get glad or sad about that shit, she’s nothing to me.

“You didn’t. I’m just offering a little friendly advice,” I tell her with a shrug.

“You said we aren’t going to be friends,” she reminds me.

“And we’re not,” I confirm, taking another drink.

“Then, keep your advice and stick it up your ass,” she says.

That surprises me. I didn’t know what her play would be, but for some reason I thought she’d at least try to talk to me further. It shocks me so much that she didn’t, that I open my eyes to look at her.

She really is pretty, not that it matters. She’s got thick, wavy red-gold hair that falls down her back and she’s wearing a shirt that’s obviously one size too big. The shirt’s black and has gold writing in the middle that declares she’s having a bad hair day—which she’s obviously not, but whatever. She also has these short little black shorts on that reveal long tanned legs that I shouldn’t like looking at—but I do.

“I’ll make note to do that very thing,” I vow, wishing I hadn’t forgotten in the first place.

“Great,” she says, and then she gives me her back before lying back down in her couch of pillows.

I start to say something else, but I don’t. There’s no point. I sure as fuck don’t need to apologize. It’s good she got the message. It will save me a hell of a lot of problems in the long run.

We don’t speak again. After about ten or fifteen minutes, she gets up and walks back in her house. I know because for some stupid fucking reason I’m watching her. I’m watching her… even though I hate myself for doing it.