Pulling the blanket up over Cheyenne’s body, I slip out of the bed, get dressed and slip from the room to grab my gear. After fucking her within an inch of her life, we collapsed onto the bed and began the discussion I had originally planned to have about Hilster before she ripped my head off. As much as I want to wake her up and tear into her again, I have some pressing club business that needs to be handled before breakfast.

Jace.

Jinks and Colt are waiting for me when I step outside, neither of them looking like they have slept. “Ah!” I shout, inhaling the air. “It’s a beautiful morning to commit a felony.”

“Who the hell gets up this early?” Jinks asks, pulling the bill of his hat down to block the rising sun from shining in his eyes.

“Early bird gets the worm,” I inform him.

He shakes his head. “Keep your damn worm. You let me know when there’s a set of tits on the table at six a.m., then I’m up and at it with a smile on my face.”

Tossing him the bag I packed last night, I hold up the keys to the van and waggle my brows. “Quit bitchin’ and let’s head out.”

Climbing into the van, we don’t waste any time pulling out of the lot and head up the road to the house Jace lives with his parents while I give them the lowdown on my plan. Driving through the yard, I pull around his piece of shit truck, parking on the side of the house. “Ski masks are in the bag,” I inform them, yanking mine from my pocket and tugging it over my face. “Leave your cuts here.”

“And you think he won’t recognize our voices?” Jinks asks skeptically.

“He might … eventually,” I shrug, not giving one shit if Jace catches on or not. I plan to enjoy the hell out of this. “Adrenaline and fear are gonna hit him first. Probably gonna piss his pants. Not that it matters to me if he does.”

“Which room’s his?” Colt asks, casing the place.

“That one,” Jinks points to a large, partially opened window.

“Parents?” Colt tugs on his mask.

“Not an issue,” I blurt confidently. “Guarantee his old man’s passed out in the living room recliner. Drunk shithead won’t hear a thing. Mommy dearest works the nightshift at the nursing home. Means we’ve got a good forty-five minutes before she pulls up.”

“Nice.” Trading his ball cap for a mask, Jinks climbs out of the back of the van with the bag. “Let’s get this done.”

Leaving the engine running, I jump out with Colt and follow Jinks. Pushing the window up further, I peek inside, spotting Jace asleep in bed. Shooting a look to Jinks and Colt, I climb through the window before taking the bag from Jinks.

“I know you’re not thinkin’ I’m fittin’ through that narrow ass window,” Colt says, shaking his head.

“Want us to wait while you ring the doorbell?” I deadpan, making Jinks laugh.

“I’ll go,” Jinks offers, hoisting himself inside. “Just be ready to help yank him out.”

Grabbing the gun from my waistband, I head for the bed. Wearing a pair of blue boxers and one sock, Jace is sprawled across the bed on his stomach, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Pressing down between his shoulders with one hand, I push the barrel of my gun to the back of his head. “Rise and shine, asshole.”

“Umph,” Jace grunts, his body going completely rigid.

Pinning Jace’s ass to the mattress with his knee, Jinks takes the rope I had in the bag and ties Jace’s wrists together before going to work on his ankles. “Waste of time tyin’ him up,” I growl, grabbing a fist full of his hair, yanking until he yelps. “Kid looks like a little bitch. We’re better off tuckin’ him in and puttin’ him out of his misery right here.”

“Motherfuckers!” Jace shouts, yanking against the rope. “The fuck are you doing in my house?”

Ignoring him, I yank a black hood over his head, not wanting him to recognize the van or where we are going. “Or I could slice you open and leave you in the driveway for Mommy to find when she comes home.” My threat stops Jace’s rambling immediately.

“Negativo, Señor,” Jinks says in the worst attempt at a Mexican accent I have ever heard. “The boss man says bring him in alive.”

“Well, Javier,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes. “What the boss man wants, the boss man gets.”

Getting him to his feet, Jinks and I drag Jace to the window, shoving him out head first. Colt turns and looks at us just in time to see Jace hit the ground hard. Groaning in pain, Jace shifts onto his side. Shaking my head, I look to Colt. “I thought you were gonna help yank him out?” I ask, trying not to laugh.

Colt’s eyes widen. “You were serious about that?”

Hopping out the window, I help Colt get Jace off the ground and around to the back of the van, while Jinks moves ahead of us to get the rear doors open. Being the shit that he is, the kid tries to fight against us and his bindings, but it does no good. Jinks can tie a legendary knot. Closing the backdoors, Jinks crosses his arms over his chest. “How’d it go with my sister, last night?”

“Huh?” Colt and I ask in unison.

“You talked to her about everything, right?” Jinks’s brows knit together, his eyes shifting between the two of us. “Got her on board to meet with the Fed?”

“Yeah,” I blurt, clearing my throat. “She’s ready.”

“Good,” He nods, seeming satisfied. “Let’s get back before everyone wakes up.”

Back at the compound, Jinks and I unload Jace while Colt heads in to get the rest of the guys together. Dragging him inside the clubhouse, we drop him down into a chair in the middle of the room just as the door to the kitchen swings open and Shy steps out, holding a coffee cup. Stopping mid-step, she blinks several times as she stares at us. “Hey,” I nod, then yank off my mask and toss it to a nearby table. Jinks quickly does the same. “Say hello to Jace.” Her eyes widen, moving from me to Jinks before stopping on Jace.

“Really?” she mouths, jerking her chin in his direction. When I nod, she shakes her head, a smile tugging at her lips. Walking over to a table in the corner, she sits and makes herself comfortable before bringing the mug to her lips.

Turning my attention back to the task at hand, I grab Jace by the throat. “We know all about you,” I growl into his ear, flexing my fingers tighter. “Hate to break it to you, fucker. That patch won’t protect you.”

“I don’t expect it to,” he gasps from beneath the hood. I drop my hand, letting him speak. “No brother hides behind their patch.”

“You’re not Mayhem,” I bite out, probably sounding angrier than I should. Doesn’t matter. I’m playing the part and right now I want to hear what this cocky prick has to say.

“I will be,” he grounds out, matter of fact.

“Is that so?” Jinks asks, horrible fucking Mexican accent and all. Yanking the hood off Jace’s face, he stares down at him with cold, calculating eyes, studying him intently. “And why the fuck do you want it so bad, bitch?”

Jace blinks several times as he adjusts to the light of the room, his eyes moving between Jinks and me. “What the hell?” he bites out in disbelief.

“We’re waiting for an answer,” I bark, kicking his chair.

He swallows hard. “The club doesn’t protect you, you protect it,” he replies, straightening. “That’s what I want to be a part of. A family stronger than blood. Brotherhood.”

“Untie him,” Stone says, stepping into the room.

Jace scans the room of people watching us, then his eyes drop to his body while Jinks works at the knots on his ankles and wrists. Once he is free, he jumps to his feet like a loaded spring. “You put a goddamn gun to my head!” he roars, shoving me.

My eyes widen. “Aww, honey, was it your first time?” I ask sarcastically, tapping him on the nose with my finger. “For what it’s worth, I tried to make it special.”

“Gentle even,” Colt blurts, inhaling a donut as he heads our way.

“You threw me out a window,” he deadpans, flipping Colt off with one hand, his other is tightly fisted at his side.

“Dropped,” I correct him. “We dropped you out a window.”

“Yeah,” Jinks agrees. “Colt really fucked that up.”

“And I’m naked.”

Shy makes a snort giggling sound. “I’m sorry.” Burying her face in her hands, she erupts into a fit of giggles.

“The fuck is so funny, smartass?” Jace barks, glaring at her.

“Be respectful, motherfucker,” I growl under my breath, ready to bash his teeth down his throat.

“Just remembering the day Vic, Huck and Pop did this same thing to Schrader and Jinks,” she shrugs, pushing to her feet. Glancing at me, she quirks up her brow suggestively. “Schrader was naked.”

“Hey!” Doc laughs. “I’m pretty sure he was wearin’ socks.”

“Fuck you,” I bite out playfully, crossing my arms over my chest. “I had pants on, too. They were just around my ankles.”

“Along with your Scooby Doo boxers,” Shy adds, her cheeks flushing. My eyes snap to her and she immediately shifts uncomfortably under my gaze.

Her comment shocks me. The day Jinks and I got our cuts, I had just turned eighteen, which would have made Cheyenne thirteen. Maybe fourteen. Barely. Her having been there watching doesn’t make sense to me. Before D.A. stepped in to claim Shy as his, Doc kept her on a tight leash and did everything he could to keep his little girl away from all the craziness of the club activities he felt were too much for her. My memory of that day may be hazy from the party the night before, but I would remember if Shy, or any woman, had been in the room.

Wouldn’t I?

“Damn kid,” Huck laughs, tipping a jar of ‘shine in my direction. “Never could hold his whiskey.”

“Not my fault,” I blurt, defensively. “I eventually got my shit together.”

“That you did,” Huck nods in agreement.

Grabbing her mug, Shy says something about checking on more coffee and disappears through the door that leads to the kitchen. The guys are all laughing and joking, mostly at my expense now; even Jace cracks a smile now that he realizes I am not about to blow out the back of his skull with my Glock. Taking the cut from under Huck’s arm, Stone heads our way. “All jokes aside,” he begins, his face completely serious. “Your decision to join this club isn’t something any of us take lightly. Though the leather isn’t heavy, never forget the weight it carries. Or the responsibility we have to the family that comes along with it.”

Taking the leather from Stone’s outstretched hand, Jace nods solemnly. “I won’t forget it, Prez.”

“Good,” Stone replies. “Don’t get comfortable. We put your status on the table again after, at least, one year. Vote has to be unanimous before you get your top rocker.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now put on the goddamn leather and let’s have a beer!” Huck booms, slamming his hand down on the bar.

“It’s seven o’clock in the morning.” Stepping out from the kitchen, Shy walks around the bar and slides boxes of donuts onto the bar beside him.

“Where the hell did you get those?” I ask, knowing she better fucking not have left the lot.

“Who the fuck asks shit like that?” Colt barks, shoving open a box. “There’s food. Eat it.”

“Here,” Shy says, snatching two from the box before Colt yanks it from her reach. Placing them on a napkin in front of Huck, she winks at him. “Save your liver. Celebrate with donuts.”

Wrapping an arm around Shy, Huck pulls her in and kisses her temple. “At this point, Sweetheart, I’m just makin’ sure to wear out all the good parts before I go.” Releasing his hold on her, he winks. “Whatever keeps Doc from sellin’ ‘em on the Black Market when I croak.”

“Most days, I wonder when I’ll lose what’s left of my mind and be carted off to the nut house,” she mutters, unable to hide her spreading smile. “Then shit like this comes out of your mouth and I realize I’m already here.”

Once Jace puts on his cut, everyone congratulates him and heads for the bar to raid the boxes Shy set out before hauling ass to the kitchen again. Instead of fighting for baked goods, I round the bar and follow her.

Stopping in the doorway, I study Cheyenne as she stands with her back to me, scribbling on a notepad. Her eyes shift between the opened cabinets and the paper as she writes. Exhaling harshly, she tosses the pen and pad to the counter. “I know you’re there,” she breathes, not turning around. “Your eyes are burning right through me.”

“Turn around, Shy.” The moment the words leave my mouth, she freezes.

“Why?” she asks, her voice low.

“Because I asked nicely.”

“That was asking nicely?” she snorts sarcastically.

“Cheyenne.” Her name is a warning.

“Do you always get what you want?” Her shoulders shake with silent laughter. Taking a deep breath, she turns slowly, not stopping until she meets my eyes. “Who am I kidding? Of course you do.”

“I want you closer,” I admit, taking another step toward her. The second I am close enough, my arm slips around her waist, pulling her forward until her chest is pressed to mine. “When I got my cut—”

Her eyes drift closed. “Ugh. Me and my big mouth,” she groans, pressing her hand to her face. “I knew that was gonna bite me in the ass the moment I said it.”

“You snuck in to watch?” I ask, pulling her hand away.

Her eyes open, lips parting, her tongue peeking out to wet her bottom lip. “Yes,” she breathes, nodding her head slowly.

“Why?”

“I wanted to see the look on your face,” she blushes, her eyes dropping to my chest. “I was proud of you guys.”

Her words wash over me, the simple admission taking me by surprise. Even more so, the fact that I like hearing them come from her. No one has ever said that to me before. Not my mother. Not Vic. My uncle cared about me, I never doubted that, but the man wasn’t much for the touchy feely shit. I never needed or expected someone to stroke my ego, or blow smoke up my ass. I am satisfied as hell with my accomplishments, and I have worked my ass off for everything that I have in this life. But I didn’t do any of it to please anyone else.

“You were into me then?” I ask, staring into her eyes as if they hold all the answers. The idea has my mind running through years of history, attempting to overanalyze everything she has said or done.

How the hell was I so damn blind?

She sighs softly, then nods again, slower this time. “I’ve been into you a lot longer than I’d ever wanna admit.”

“Why keep that shit from me?” I ask, though I sure as fuck don’t see any reason worth a damn in my mind. “Things could’ve been a lot different.”

“Because we were friends,” she replies, her eyes softening. “Then because of Troy.”

“Don’t bring him into this, Cheyenne,” I warn, the mentioning of that motherfucker’s name leaving her lips while I touch her pissing me off more than I ever thought possible.

“You know, until that last day, he never gave me one reason to doubt he loved me,” she argues, becoming defensive. “I was content with how things were. Hell, I was happy. I wasn’t going to be greedy or reckless and risk ruining any of the good I had in my life because of some ridiculous crush.”

“Content?” I seethe. “Be honest with both of us, Babe. You fuckin’ settled when you married that goddamn clown.”

“Excuse me?” she blinks in shock.

“Being content does not equal being happy. Being claimed is not the same as being loved.” Grabbing her arms, I shake her. “If he ever really loved you at all, he’d have made sure you knew the difference.”

“Where the fuck were your negative feelings for Troy when he was unanimously voted into the club?” she asks, poking me in the chest. “What about that concern for my happiness when we got the blessing from the club to get married?” Her eyes harden, the soft lips I want to kiss, pressing into a hard line. “Why don’t you do us both a favor and shut the fuck up,” she bites out, shoving at me. “I don’t need any of this shit from you.”

“And what is it you do need from me, Cheyenne?” I ask, towering over her.

“I don’t have time for this bullshit.” Unfazed, Shy steps around me and storms for the door.

“Hey,” I ground out, catching her by the arm in two long strides. “We’re not done here.”

“Shy!” Huck calls out from up front. “You get another box? Colt’s tryin’ to break a record out here.”

“Coming!” she shouts, yanking her arm free of mine. Grabbing the other two boxes from the table, she glances my way. “You may have fucked me, Schrader, but you don’t own me. Next time, keep your goddamn opinions and half-assed observations about my life to yourself.” Squaring her shoulders, she turns her back on me and strides from the room.