Tension rolls off of me as I toss my phone in the bin and walk into church. The smell of smoke and motor oil fills the large space.

Joining my brothers at the table, I lean back in my seat, my arms crossing over my chest.

The only thing on my mind; the thing that kept me up all night was the image of Emmy being held and comforted by Drifter. I know my jealousy and anger are in the wrong place cause there’s no fucking way something is going on between those two, not when I own Emmy body and soul, but fuck if I didn’t want to charge over and rip the asshole limb for limb…and those eyes… those big green fucking eyes; the way they widened when she saw me standing there. There was surprise in them but more than that, there was relief. I watched her tense shoulders sag and her beautiful eyes brighten. It made watching him steer her away a little more bearable.

Just a little more.

The question is why the fuck was she at Sunshine alone to begin with? The thought of what could have happened to her has my temperature rising.

It was fucking luck JB had been the one there…

Feeling like I’m being watched, I look up. All the boys sit there silently staring at me- Bo, Mayhem, Trigger, Jinx, Karma, Tank, everyone. They all sit at the forefront of the table while the old-timers, the men who helped make this club what it is, sit to the back watching and observing. They keep shit it check, they don’t go on any of the runs and they don’t mess with the dealings, but they can throw down at a moment’s notice and their wisdom of the road is what keeps us on top. If it weren’t for them and Pops, none of us would be here.

“What?” I ask, feeling uneasy.

“Who’s on your hit list now, Romeo?” Bo asks. “You look pissed as fuck. We’re all waiting to see you pull a Rage.” Looking around he says, “Speaking of which. Where is that fucker? Haven’t seen his ass all day.”

Looking at his spot at the table I see it’s empty.

“He’s probably hittin’ that bitch we saw at Sunshine’s last night. Fucker got all guard dog when I got near her.” Mayhem smirks as if he has figured out the secret to mankind. “Bitch was sexy as fuck, too, in that girl next door kind of way. Dark hair, long fuckin’ legs, tits that would spill outta my hands.” Watching his eyes glaze over, I feel my face burn with anger. “I wonder if he’d share the bitch.”

Before I can stop myself, I jerk forward slamming my fist on the table. “She’s not his to fucking share. She’s not his period, got me?”

Silence follows as everyone stares at me with wide humorous eyes before the whole table bursts out laughing. Right away I knew I fucked up. Leaning back in my seat, I let out a breath and wait for them to get it out of their system.

Fuck.

“Holy shit, Romeo, that’s the bitch you been sneaking out to see?” Mayhem continues. “No fucking wonder you’ve been hiding her. Bitch is a fucking babe, complete old lady material.”

“I thought she lived in Utah?” Tank says, a genuine confused look on his face.

“Where the hell did you come up with Utah?” Jinx asks, shaking his head.

“When you going to bring her here, Romeo? Let the real men show her a good time cause we know your lame ass doesn’t know how to have a good fucking time!”

Gritting my teeth, I breathe through my nose as they continue going back and forth, some exchanging money for bets they made on my behalf.

Assholes.

Strolling in, JB sits in his chair across from me and meets my stare, giving me a single nod. My shoulders sag as some of the weight lifts.

“Alright, you shits, settle the fuck down,” Pops barks as he walks into the room. Standing over six feet tall and built like the rest of the men in the room, you would never guess he is as old as he his. Taking his spot at the head of the table he meets each of our eyes.

Looking to his son, Bo, he starts church. “How’d it go with the Russians?”

Bo’s face loses its smile and a hard mask falls into place. “Good, we got what we wanted. Got some issues in town though, couple club owners called. Said new drugs were being seen getting passed around, none with our stamp on them. Three girls have also been found raped and left in the alleys, the one that wasn’t dead said she don’t remember shit.”

A lump sits heavy in my throat.

Pop’s eyes flare with rage before they narrow. One thing Pops doesn’t tolerate is drugs. We deal and run every drug under the sun but we don’t indulge in them. We get caught with powder under our nose or track marks down our arms we are fucking out. Same with the town, we don’t deal in our territory. When Pops built this town up from the ground it was overrun with pimps and dealers, the lowest of the low, and the law couldn’t do shit because there was just too many of them. Shops were rundown, houses were broken into… it wasn’t a place you wanted to fucking live in. It didn’t come overnight, but over the years Pops and the old-timers were able to run every last piece of shit out of town. He doesn’t fucking put up with shit going down here. There aren’t any second chances.

“Who the fuck would try and move on our territory?” Jinx asks, his hands balled into fists.

“Whoever it is has some serious fucking balls or a death wish,” Mayhem counters.

“For now just be on the lookout. Talk to the owners of the shops. Let them know what’s going on and to fucking let us know if they see something. If someone is trying to run shit and take over, we need to fucking know and handle it,” Pops says, ending the topic.

Thirty more minutes go on as we go over our hits and runs, making sure nothing is slipping and everything is in order. When I was stuck being a slave and dreamed about being free, running guns and drugs and burying bodies wasn’t something I ever had in mind. But when I think about it now, I really didn’t have a fucking clue what I would do, the only sure thing I knew was Emmy.

Life had other plans though, and in the moment, I could never understand how it could be so fucking cruel. How in one lifetime I could lose everything, only to lose it all again. I guess that’s life for you though, nothing ever makes sense in the moment. Only when you look back on it does it play out like a well written movie.

Looking back now I know I wouldn’t have been able to give Emmy the life she deserves. We would have been on the streets, hungry, bouncing from place to place. She deserves so much more than that.

To some, being a member of the Soulless Sinners may not seem any better, but that’s looking at the picture in black and white. Behind the name lies a family so loyal and so close that if you fuck with one of us, every single chapter down the west coast will gather together to rectify. Old ladies and children have the same respect and untouchability as gods.

This is something I am proud to give her. When she’s ready…

“If that’s everything then –”

“One other thing, Pops,” Bo cuts in, his eyes searching out the old timers before turning to Pops. “Talked to Drifter,” he says low and something passes between them.

Shocked to hear Drifter’s name, my eyes shoot to JB’s and he wears the same confused expression.

The MC’s relationship with Drifter is something unspoken and something deep. Whatever happened in the past affected this whole club and it kept the nomad rooted to the town. No one fucking talks about it but you don’t have to in order to see the uncertainty and loss in the story.

“He’s hunting, wants us to keep an eye out for someone. Wouldn’t say who or why…didn’t really say shit but that it was none our fucking business.” Standing up he pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to Pops.

Unfolding the paper, Pops studies it before passing it around. I don’t even need to see it to know who the fuck it is a picture of. With shaky hands, I grab the picture when it gets passed to me.

A blurry surveillance picture captured the top of a man in a black fedora. There’s no face, no given identity, at least not one visible to someone who doesn’t recognize the attire. Matching the black hat, the man is dressed in a black suit. Even in this blurry as fuck picture you can see the money and sin hanging off of him.

Doing my best to school my expression, I hand the picture over. Why the fuck would Drifter go to the club but tell me to keep shit to myself?

“You think it has anything to do with-”

“Shut the fuck up, Chuck!” Bo shouts, shocking us all. Looking over at Chuck sitting behind me, his icy blank stare bores at the VP.

Looking around the table some of the men hold the same confused stare that I do, while others look down, their features pinched in remorse.

Ignoring the outburst Prez stands but doesn’t look at any of us. Instead he stares down at the many carvings on the wooden surface of the table. “Commit the picture to memory and keep an eye out. Other than that, get the fuck out of here.”

Standing up, I look over to JB. I watch as he holds the picture, his hands trembling and his eyes staring holes into it.

Fuck.

Dropping the paper like it burned him, his eyes meet mine.

Filing out of the room everyone goes their own way, some heading straight for the bar, others heading right for the women, some doing both.

Walking upstairs, the sound of sex echoes down the hall causing my skin to crawl. It usually doesn’t bother me but after seeing that picture, I feel like the walls are closing in.

The slavery didn’t leave the same marks on me as they did JB… or even Emmy. Most days I feel like that part of my life was just a bad dream. I can be in crowds and talk about sex without breaking out in hives. I thought I was okay, that the place didn’t leave any scars. But then there were days… usually after leaving Emmy, where just the sound of a door slamming shut would take me there. It would be like getting stuck in a nightmare and knowing you’re awake. I would know the things I was seeing weren’t real. I would know that I was in my room and not in training… but I couldn’t see reality. Those moments weren’t like anything I have ever experienced before.

My trauma doesn’t show on the outside like JB’s tends to… mine lingers within, only coming out when my guard is down.

Throwing my door open I survey my room, the need to check everything fucking with me. Glancing at my unmade bed and my dresser with all my shit on top of it, I let out a pent-up breath. Leaving the door open I head for the joined bathroom and splash water on my face.

I need to get my shit together. The uneasy feeling that picture left clings to me. He really is alive.

He’s been alive. Dammit!

Slamming my fists down on the sink I stare at my reflection. My blue eyes laced with anger glare back at me. Unanswered questions start running through my mind and I instantly go back to five years ago when being left in the dark nearly cost me my life… It cost me Emmy.

That shit is not happening this time.

I am not a slave any longer and I am not going to stand by while Buck and Drifter play God. Either I will get the answers I need in order to keep Emmy safe, or I will be putting all three of them in the ground.

Hearing the sound of someone walking in, I turn around and face JB, his face tight and his hands balled into fists at his side.

“We aren’t just going to let them handle this shit, are we?” he asks, his thoughts right where mine are.

Meeting his stare, I answer, “No.”

Watching his shoulders visibly relax I ask, “What you got?”

Pulling out a small cell phone looking device, he tosses it to me. “He’s not fucking around, got that place locked down tight.” Stepping closer he touches something on the screen and a video of Drifter’s house shows up. “You can switch through the cameras here to check out the property. It’s not much, but you can at least see who is coming and going.”

Feeling a whole lot lighter, I clutch my only way to keep an eye on Emmy like it’s a lifeline. “Thanks, brother.”

Shrugging it off he grinds out, “They might be doing right by her, Kodah, but don’t forget who they are, they have burned their bridges. They want trust, then there’s only one way to get it and that’s answers. No more fucking around.”

Gritting my teeth, I give a single nod. Time to get answers.

* * *

Pulling up to the tall two story house I cut the engine and wait.

Not even four seconds later, the door busts open and both men stroll out with pissed off expressions masking their faces.

Here we go.

Climbing off my bike I drop the bandana from my mouth, letting it hang around my neck as I meet their steps stopping in the middle of the driveway.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing showing up here?” Drifter growls, his stance mirroring mine, defensive and unwilling to back down.

With the help of JB’s surveillance I was able to watch Emmy and her friend leave in one of Drifter’s cars. Seeing the opportunity, I took it.

“Now you got the club looking out for Marx?” I ask, ignoring him. “I thought you fucking had this? Who exactly are you to the club?” Drifter’s eyes flash with surprise.

“I’m not shit to the club,” he growls.

“We are covering our bases, Kodah,” Buck cuts in, his voice calm and collected, always in control. “It doesn’t hurt to have extra eyes looking out around the town, don’t you think? While we are busy doing the in-depth work, sometimes things on the outside get overlooked and that’s when slip-ups happen.” Meeting my glare, he continues, “My guess is you’re going to be too busy stalking Emmalyn around to help watch those gaps. This way we have extra eyes who know nothing keeping those areas secured,” he says, making sense. “If you had gone to the club with it, they would dig too deep into it… we just need the extra eyes.”

“The club can help catch him,” I argue. “Why not just bring them in?”

“Because all those buyers and competitors Marx had are still fucking out there. You get too many people poking around looking for shit, it’s going to gain unwanted attention. If all those people find out Marx is still alive, they are all at risk and will do anything to find him… that includes coming for Emmy,” Drifter cuts in.

Anxiety grips me at the thought. He’s fucking right. Once again, I am left useless, unable to do shit to protect what’s mine. I can’t fucking stand it.

Not ready to just let shit go, I turn to Drifter. “Why the fuck are you letting Emmy go into Sunshine? You know what kind of place that is. Someone like Emmy in there unprotected is fair fucking game,” I seethe.

Drifter doesn’t move. Instead his stare grows cooler. “Watch your fucking mouth, kid. I didn’t let her in there and once I tracked her to that place I got her out. But she was fucking drawn to it.” Looking away he lets out a breath before collecting himself and looking back to me. “I have told you this from the fucking beginning, Kodah. There is more to her than you even know. When she gets her memories back it’s not just going to be you and that place she remembers. Don’t forget that.”

Unease causes my stomach to dip. What the fuck does he mean?

“What will she remember?” I ask, almost sounding desperate. The need to help her and protect her rages stronger than any storm, it always has. But protecting her from herself, from things I can’t see… How do I win that battle?

Without answering he turns and stomps back toward the house, throwing more shit over his shoulder as he goes. “By the way, your boy is good, but you have to remember I’m better. I’ll let you leave your little cameras up for now,” he says disappearing into the house.

Son of a bitch.

Meeting Buck’s gaze we just stand there staring at each other. So much shit stands between us, none of it good. Memories that haunt us both, a past so unforgiving it can’t just stay in the past. There are no words to make shit right between us. I know in his way he was the good guy, he’s the reason so many kids lived. But what about the many who didn’t? What about all the times he just stood there watching me… watching Emmy take beating after beating? I want to forgive and forget but doing that makes me feel like I am forgetting what was done to me; by letting it go I feel like I am betraying every single nameless face I watched die or get sold.

I know he did what he had to do. I know he did what he thought was right. But the damage is done and some things can’t be unseen or forgiven.

Watching his mask vanish, I get a glimpse of the same thoughts circling his mind before he shakes his head and turns around.

With his back to me and his feet rooted in place, he speaks so quietly I almost miss it before he walks away, leaving me standing there. “I’m sorry, Kodah.”

With my heart in my stomach I watch him go. So much shit is still left unsaid, so many questions are still left unanswered.

Not a second after Buck’s feet hit the first step to the porch does the front door fly open. Both Buck and I jump as it bounces off the wall. Barreling past Buck, Drifter flies down the steps, an expression I can only describe as terror mares his face.

Life-altering fear runs through my veins as Buck and I look to each other before snapping into action. “What the fuck is going on?” I growl, my hands shaking with adrenaline.

Without looking at me, Drifter hops on his bike as Buck runs for his truck. “Emmy is having a panic attack,” he grinds out, revving his bike and taking off.

Not wasting anymore time, I run for my bike and hop on. Making sure I have my hoodie from my saddle bag, I follow. I can’t fucking do this anymore. I’m done.