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I met Jen three years after I pushed Ivy away. I hadn’t been looking for a woman to share my bed with, but she’d forced her way into my life and then into my heart. We’d met at a party thrown by a club member. She was drunk and had tried to fuck me in the bathroom. I was a lot of things, but I wasn’t a man who took advantage of drunk women. I’d said no and left, but not before I’d found someone to get her home so some other asshole couldn’t force himself on her. A week later, she’d turned up at the clubhouse to thank me for it. She’d called me a gentleman, and I’d laughed for the first time in a long fucking time. That had been the start of our journey down a dark, fucked-up path of jealousy, raging arguments, destructive behaviour, and resentments we never found our way through.

Sex had been our glue; Jen liked it brutal, and she quickly worked out that it kept me coming back for more. She understood that after a long day taking care of club shit, all I’d wanted to come home to was a woman who’d let me lose myself in her so I could wipe the day from my mind. She’d saved the fights for the daytime and the sex for the nights. It worked until she figured out I’d never love her the way she wanted. I’d loved her, but I’d never hand every last piece of myself over to anyone again, and Jen wanted to collect those pieces like fucking trophies. In the end, she’d cheated on me, and I’d walked away. The betrayal had stung because they always did, but I couldn’t find it in me to hate her. I’d known the cheating was because I refused to give her everything I’d given Ivy. I could hardly fault her for my shortcomings.

I’d felt guilt more than anger.

I’d ruined another woman, another relationship.

Kick had found a place for her out by the creek she’d loved to visit. As I’d said goodbye, memories had rushed at me of the times I’d taken her there. Fuck, memories always carved jagged grooves deep in me. If I could have avoided it, I wouldn’t have visited her grave. But I owed her that. I fucking owed her a lot more than that, but since I could never pay those debts, this was all I had to give.

I’d sat with her for an hour, and when I was done, I’d headed back to the clubhouse and spent the night obliterating every memory from my mind. Turned out Jen had been hell alive, and she was still hell for me dead. Kick dropped me at the hospital just after midnight. “No fucking way am I letting you on the road in this state,” he’d said. What he didn’t know was that there was no fucking way I’d ever allow myself on the roads in this state.

“King,” Skylar mumbled early the next morning, prodding my arm. “When did you get here? And God, you smell like a brewery.”

I was only half asleep in the chair by her bed. The night had been long and the ghosts had refused to leave me alone. I sat up and rested my elbows on my knees, stretching the kinks out of my neck. Sleeping in a hospital chair fucking blew. So did the headache pounding my skull. “We buried Jen yesterday afternoon.” It didn’t answer her question, but it told her everything she wanted to know.

Her face softened. “Oh.”

I stood so I could also stretch my back. I felt like hell, but I was more interested in how Skylar was feeling. “How’s the pain?”

“It’s okay. The drugs are working.” She paused for a moment before saying, “You know I wasn’t a huge fan of Jen’s, but I hate that she died like this. No one deserves that.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, but I didn’t want to get into it. Didn’t want to be having this conversation with anyone, because that meant I’d have to face the guilt again. “I’m going for a smoke. You want anything when I come back?”

The look she gave me told me she knew what I was doing. Skylar knew me better than anyone. It was one of the reasons we argued so damn much. She liked to see how far she could push me. Always had. But today, she let that shit slide. Nodding, she said, “Yeah, a coffee. I can’t do the stuff they serve here.”

When I stepped outside five minutes later, I lit a smoke and stared up at the dark morning sky. The colour of the clouds matched my mood. And the rolling thunder added to the symphony playing in my head. A symphony of fucked-up thoughts that wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone.

For one mad moment, I wondered whether my father’s mind had been as chaotic as mine. Was this how he crossed the line into insanity? Did the thoughts become too much to deal with that his mind cracked into so many pieces that he could no longer figure out right from wrong?

Could I fucking figure out right from wrong anymore? I wasn’t sure. Most days I didn’t give a fuck, but every now and then, someone came along and tested that attitude. Ivy reappearing in my life was one big fucking test.

She and Jen had played on my mind all night, and my dreams had tortured me. It had been a long time since I’d had dreams like this. After I’d pushed Ivy away years ago, I’d spent a year dreaming of her, my father, my mother, and Margreet. The dreams had become nightmares I couldn’t escape. I’d avoided sleep that year, and insomnia had plagued me ever since, but the dreams had disappeared.

Until last night.

Last night I dreamt of Margreet and the disappointment she felt over the choices I’d made in my life. Ivy and Jen had shown up in my dream, too, and told me I was going to hell after I was finished with this life.

Fuck.

I’d woken in a cold sweat, thoughts of hell still on my mind. I knew the only place I’d be going after this life was straight to hell. My father had made sure of that the first time he’d forced me to help him with his sick and perverted crimes. Usually it was my mother who helped him, but not that night. She’d been sick and unable to do what he wanted, so he’d dragged me out of bed and used me to lure the blonde teenager into his car. What girl wouldn’t want to stop and help a nine-year-old who was alone on a street in the middle of the night? She’d never stood a chance between my sad eyes begging for help and my father’s brute strength when he pulled her into the car.

He’d kept her locked up in our house for a week before he ended her suffering. I’d endured seven nights of her screams and his grunts. But that was only the beginning of it all.

I had the blood of five girls on my hands by the time I was ten. Three days before my tenth birthday, my father was arrested for assaulting a man at the pub he frequented. My early birthday present that year was my mother abandoning me at a hospital because she decided she couldn’t raise me on her own. It was the best birthday present I ever received.

Jesus, would this shit ever go away? Would I ever stop thinking about my father? Would Margreet linger in my mind forever?

I took a long drag of my smoke, closing my eyes as it worked its way into my lungs. Why the fuck was I turning my actions over in my head? Questioning myself in ways I tried never to question myself. There was a lot of shit to deal with today. Thinking about this wasn’t doing me any favours. All it did was fuck with my thinking. And that wasn’t fucking useful. Not to me and not to my club.

I opened my eyes, took one last drag of my smoke before stubbing it out, and turned to go back inside. Another round of thunder cracked overhead, but I barely heard it. Thunder didn’t come close to the noise of my mind.

“Good morning.”

I’d been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t seen Skylar’s physiotherapist standing in my path to the front door of the hospital. I’d almost run into her.

I nodded at the smoke between her lips. “If the way you’re sucking that smoke back is any indication, your morning is as shit as mine.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up. Kids.”

My gaze dropped to her body. She wore the tightest fucking jeans I’d ever seen with a white T-shirt and black leather jacket. It seemed an odd outfit for a hospital employee to wear, but what the fuck did I know? Finding her eyes again, I asked, “How many you got?”

“Do you really care?”

She had me there. And yet, I was engaging in small talk, which I rarely bothered with, so there was some interest. “How many?”

A smile ghosted across her lips as she drew more smoke deep into her lungs. “I knew you weren’t as big of an asshole as they told me. I’ve got three. Two teens and an eight-year-old. It’s mostly my fourteen-year-old daughter who keeps my nicotine addiction fed.”

I narrowed my eyes, assessing her more closely. “You don’t look old enough to have a fourteen-year-old.”

Her smile grew larger. “Well, now I like you even more. I’m old enough to have a sixteen-year-old.”

“Daughter?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I wish you well.”

Her brows lifted. “You have daughters?”

“No, but I’ve got experience raising girls.” I jerked my chin at her smoke. “That’s not gonna be anywhere near strong enough soon.”

“Trust me, I know.” She glanced at her watch. “Shit, I’ve gotta go. My boss will kill me if I’m late today.” She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a breath mint before smiling again and saying, “Your sister did really well yesterday. She should be standing on both legs by this afternoon.”

“Good. I need her home with me as soon as possible.”

She slowed and fixed her gaze on me. “I like your dedication to family. I mean, unless you’re some creepy stalker brother who keeps his sister locked away, but out of all the vibes I’m getting about you, that isn’t one of them.”

We watched each other silently for a few moments as more thunder rumbled overhead. And then she was gone, and I was alone again with my thoughts. Fucking worst place to be.

I had another smoke before going back inside to check on Skylar. Today was going to be a long one. And with a bit of fucking luck, one that produced some results in our efforts to track Romano and our rat down. But to get that shit done, I first needed to make sure my family was okay.

Annika glanced up from the coffee she was making when I entered the clubhouse kitchen an hour later. “You look like hell.”

“I fucking feel like it too.” I jerked my chin at the kettle. “You got enough for another one?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll even take pity on you and make toast to go with it if you haven’t had breakfast. You want vegemite?”

I lifted a brow. “What are you after, Nik?”

She pulled another mug from the cupboard. “Maybe I just think you need some TLC at the moment. I’m not the sister always wanting stuff, remember?”

She was right. Annika was the maternal type while Skylar was the complete opposite. Nik never asked me for much at all. I had to force my way into her life when I knew she needed me. Skye, on the other hand, was the sister who came looking for me when she wanted something. It had been the other way around before Margreet died. Her death altered our relationships, causing Annika to shut down on me, and Skylar to demand my attention constantly.

I moved closer to her and leant against the counter. “Vegemite sounds good.” As she made coffee and toast, I asked, “Are you guys holding up okay here?”

She stopped what she was doing and gave me her full attention. “We’re fine, King, but it’s odd for you to even ask that. Usually you just want to tell us what to do, not ask us how we’re doing. What’s going on? And where’s the brother I know and love?”

Scrubbing my face, I muttered, “I’m trying here.”

She smiled. “We’re good. The kids are running wild, but they get on well with Kree’s kids, so at least there aren’t any problems there.”

Fuck, I hadn’t made the time to speak with Zane about Kree’s ex. He was due to arrive today, so I made a mental note to do that then.

I took the coffee she passed me. “I just came from the hospital. Skye’s physio says she’s doing well. She should be home in a few days.”

Axe joined us, his gaze coming straight to me. “Zane’s about five hours out. He’s got all his gear with him.”

Zane ran his own security firm, his team mostly all ex-commando, and had the best surveillance gear you could get your hands on.

I nodded just as my phone rang. Bronze.

“Bronze, you’re not gonna hit me with bad news so early in the morning, are you?”

“Not bad so much as interesting. The info you have on Romano being raided by the cops is wrong. It didn’t happen.”

I gripped my phone harder. “He wasn’t raided?”

“Correct. Whoever told you that is full of shit. He’s not even on their radar at the moment. Well, not besides the usual level of interest they have in him that is.”

None of this made sense. Why the hell had Brant fed us that bullshit? “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” he said forcefully. “Why the fuck have you got the blonde grilling me on Ryland? I’ve got enough shit going on, King. I don’t need her all over me too.”

Tatum.

“I told her to investigate Ryland. He’s too invested in this case, and at some point, he’ll cross a line to get the result he wants. Tatum’s gonna figure him out and she’ll work with you on that.”

“Fuck.” He paused for a moment. “Fine, but just get her to back off a bit. She’s a little too fucking enthusiastic.”

“She’s not gonna back off, Bronze. She’ll do whatever it takes to get Nitro out and to get Ryland off our back. You’ll just have to deal with her.”

“Some days I regret agreeing to work with you,” he muttered.

“Yeah well, we both know you’d make the same choice over if you had to.” I eyed the toast Annika held out for me. “I’ve gotta go. Call me if you find anything else.”

I ended the call and took the plate of toast off Annika, already going over in my mind what I’d just learnt. Axe’s and Annika’s conversation blurred into the background as I tried to figure out Brant’s angle. He’d seemed attached to Ivy. More than fucking attached if I really thought about it.

I pulled out my phone again and called Hyde.

“I was in the middle of something,” he grumbled, and I heard Monroe complaining too.

“Fuck, brother, you need to get Monroe out of town. I thought you’d moved her already.”

“You ever tried to convince an argumentative woman to do something, King? I’m fucking working on it.”

I could imagine the shit she’d given him. “Yeah, I can imagine.”

“I was just about to get my dick sucked, so maybe you could move this along.”

“Bronze has new information that contradicts what Brant told us. Romano wasn’t raided by the cops. We need to talk to Brant again.”

“Yeah. And I’ll talk to Ivy again.”

Hyde had interrogated her yesterday while I buried Jen. He’d let me know she hadn’t come through with any further information, but I was yet to discuss it with him. I’d avoided it. Hadn’t wanted to know how far he’d had to go with her.

“No, I’ll have this chat with her.” I’d allowed him one shot at her; I wouldn’t give him another. Fuck knew I was wound tight because of it. Because of my inability to wrap my mind around my feelings about Ivy showing back up in my life. And that I just let Hyde at her like that? Fuck, that fucked my head up even more. Had I really become a man so hardened by the shit I’d lived through that I was willing to abandon someone I’d once loved?

“I figured you’d say that. I don’t think she knows much more than what she’s already given us. It makes sense, especially with what Ghost told you yesterday. I reckon Romano’s fucking with us, brother.”

“You think he sent Brant to feed us that bullshit?”

“Yeah. Brant played the Ivy card well, and I bet that was because Romano told him to. To get to you. Romano wanted to know if you had Ivy.”

“I’ll talk to Ivy. And for fuck’s sake, lay the fucking law down with Monroe. I don’t want her caught in this shit we’ve got going on.”

Ending the call, I looked at Axe. “I’ve gotta take care of something, and after that, you and me are gonna talk to Brant again. And this time, we’re not going easy on him.”

He nodded. “Understood.”

I left the kitchen and made my way to Ivy.

Winter sat outside her room, looking exhausted. He stood and met me. “She still isn’t eating much, and I think she may be feeling sick.”

I nodded. “Take a walk while I talk to her. You look like you could do with some sleep too, so I’ll organise for one of the guys to give you a break today.”

“Thanks, brother.”

It had been two days since I’d seen Ivy, and Winter was right, she looked ill. She sat in the armchair in the corner of the room with her legs curled up under her and her head resting on the arm of the chair. Lifting her head, she said, “What now, King? Another fucking interrogation? I’m surprised you didn’t send one of your men to do it.”

I dragged the other chair in the room to where she was and sat in front of her. Resting my elbows on my knees, I ran my eyes over her. Hyde hadn’t touched her, thank fuck. The only marks on her face were the bags under her eyes. Those damn eyes, though, roared with mistrust and anger. They threw out an accusation I found hard to stomach. It turned out that no matter how hard I tried to bury my fucking soul, it was still there. My fucking heart may have been frozen for years, but those eyes of Ivy’s caused it to thaw, and that made me feel even more out of control than I already did.

When cornered like this—when forced to confront myself in ways I didn’t want to—I drew upon the only response I’d ever known. I fought back with anger. When Ivy threw her hurt at me like this, I always threw mine back. And so it seemed, we never changed.

“Yes, another fucking interrogation. But only because I’m trying to keep you safe. Do you even fucking understand that?”

She sat up straight in the chair, her body rigid. “All I understand is that I came to you with information that was good and you’ve done nothing but thrown it in my face since I got here. And then you didn’t even have the decency to come in here yourself yesterday to ask me what you wanted to know. You sent one of your men to do it. I know there’s nothing between us now, King, but I honestly thought there was more than that. I thought I deserved better than that.”

Fuck.

She did deserve better than that.

I shoved my chair back and stood, pacing the room for a moment, trying desperately to get my thoughts in order, before coming back to her. I couldn’t fucking figure out what I was thinking, what I was feeling. It was like my mind had been reprogrammed in the years after she left and now it was misfiring, unsure how to register everything being thrown at it. The only thing I truly knew was that we had to get through this and then go our separate ways again. I could not allow myself back into her life or her into mine. But fuck, getting us to that point felt like the hardest fucking thing I’d had to do in a long time.

The best way I knew to deal with shit like this was to avoid it. So I ignored what she said and focused on what I needed. “It turns out Brant’s information was wrong.”

She stared at me for a long few beats before blinking and muttering, “You’re a fucking asshole. You can’t even be bothered to discuss what I just said to you. I’m glad you cheated on me because I was better off without you in my life.”

Her words sliced through me. Fuck knew how because I’d learnt a long time ago not to let people hurt me like that. But Ivy had always had a way of cutting deep.

“Tell me what you know about Brant,” I demanded in a low dark voice. I needed to get this information from her and then get the hell out of this room.

She uncurled herself from the chair and stood. Coming close—too fucking close—she snarled, “I told Hyde everything I know. I don’t know anything about Tony being raided, and I don’t know why Brant would turn on him.”

My breathing sped up as I fought all the emotions coursing through me. Fought feeling them. Needing to put space between us, I took a step back. “Tony wasn’t raided. Brant lied about that. What I want to know is why.”

The anger rolling off her burnt out a little, replaced by confusion. “I don’t know why he’d do that. That makes no se—” She stopped talking abruptly, and I zeroed in on that.

“It makes no sense to you?”

By the way her mouth fell open and her eyes widened a fraction, Ivy appeared bewildered by what I’d just told her. And that confused me.

When she didn’t respond, I pushed her. “What’s going on, Ivy? Why doesn’t this make any sense to you?”

She wrapped her arms around her body and looked at me with anger again. “Nothing makes sense! I don’t understand what’s going on. And I feel like I’m going to be sick, so can you please get me a bucket or something in case I vomit?”

Her face had turned white, and I recalled what Winter had told me earlier. Gripping hold of her arms, I directed her back to sit in the chair. “Wait there, I’ll get you something.”

She curled into a ball and closed her eyes as she rested her head on the arm of the chair again. As I exited the room, I heard her murmur, “Thank you.” It surprised the hell out of me and caused my guilt to rear its head. Although the only emotion that seemed to come from her was anger, I knew that was how Ivy coped with life. She’d used it when we were a couple, and it seemed she hadn’t changed. But her “thank you” reminded me that at the core of that anger was a vulnerable woman. I needed to remember that and make allowances. The only way we’d survive this would be for one of us to back down, and I knew that had to be me. I wasn’t sure I had it in me, but after everything I’d put Ivy through years ago, I had to fucking try.