Dax left Angel’s apartment and rode his bike like a crazy person from Hartford back to the ranch. It was almost a two-hour drive, usually. But that morning it took him just over an hour. He realized as soon as he drove through the gates that the other hour wouldn’t have mattered. The Sinners had come and gone and they’d left chaos and carnage in their wake.

At the front gates, he found an ambulance, two police cars, and a stretcher with a black body bag strapped down to it. Handsome stood next to it, looking completely devastated…and lost. Garfield, the prospect who had called Dax, sat on a rock about five feet away. He had blood on his face and his hands were cuffed behind him. As soon as Dax stepped off his bike he was surrounded by cops. “I live here,” he said, putting his hands up so that they could see he wasn’t armed. He’d tossed his piece into the bushes as soon as he’d turned the corner and saw the blue and red lights.

“Keep your hands up and step up against my car there,” one of the officers told him. Dax did as he was told. He was pissed off, but he was doing his best to keep it in check. These guys were invited here, so he’d go with that, for now. The officer stepped up behind him and while another kept his gun trained on them, Dax was frisked from head to toe. When the cop was satisfied that he didn’t have a weapon on him he said, “Can I see some ID?” As Dax took out his wallet he made eye contact with Handsome. His friend didn’t look lost any longer, he looked as pissed off as Dax felt. Dax handed the cop his ID and after holding it and staring at it for a lot longer than it should have taken him to read it, the policeman handed it back.

“Can I go in the gates now and find out what’s going on?” Dax asked as he tucked his wallet back into his pocket.

“Dax Marshall?” He turned at the sound of his voice. A big cop dressed in a fancy uniform was approaching him.

“Yes.”

“I’m Captain Nolan Banks.” The man put out his right hand. Dax just looked at it. He’d seen this guy in more than one press conference, and his favorite theme was cleaning out the county…which started by getting rid of the Southside Skulls. Dax wasn’t about to pretend they were friends. The captain dropped his hand and said, “Can we talk?”

“I’d really rather talk to my road captain first and find out what the hell happened here.”

“I’ll bring you up to speed.”

“I’d rather hear it from someone that was here, if you don’t mind.”

The captain looked like he did mind, but he seemed to think better of saying so. “I’ll be at the command post over there when you finish.”

Dax nodded at him and was finally able to head over to where Handsome still stood next to the body bag that was now being loaded into an ambulance. Dax looked at it and Handsome said, “Bruce. Fuckers. They didn’t even give him a chance. Just rode up and shot him.”

Dax looked over at Garfield. The kid looked like he was in shock. “Why’s he hooked up?”

“He had everyone locked down and someone called 911, maybe one of the girls. Then somehow he made it back up here while those assholes were tearing up our clubhouse. That’s Bruce’s blood he has all over him. He was trying to help him, but I think he died pretty much instantly. Anyways, the Sinners were leaving as the cops were rolling in. Garfield was taking shots at them. He said he hit one or two.”

Dax felt almost guilty about the twitch of his lips. The kid was only nineteen years old. He was proud of him, but he also didn’t want to see him go to jail for defending his home.

“So I don’t see any Sinner bodies lying around.”

“Nah, anyone he did hit kept going. But he didn’t put the gun down at first. Nearly got his head shot off by the cops. I think they just hooked him up to calm him down. The EMTs looked at him. He’s got no injuries, at least.”

“Good. Fuck. What a fucking mess. Hawk has no fucking clue what he just started here.”

“Cassie called me. She said they tore the clubhouse apart. Any idea what they were looking for?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. He just declared an all-out war.” He looked down the long dirt road toward the clubhouse. He could see flashing red and blue lights all along the road. “I hope everyone had time to store their junk before those guys rolled up.” Handsome just nodded at that too. The ranch was rife with more marijuana than was legal, weapons that felons shouldn’t have access to, and God only knew what else. They kept most of it locked down in the root cellar, and that wasn’t easy to find. Each house had its own hiding place as well, but most of the men had still been at the bar when the police got there. He could only hope they hadn’t had any probable cause to go in any of those houses…or most importantly, the storage sheds.

“What are you gonna tell that cop?”

“That I wasn’t here and he’ll need to talk to the people that were if he wants to know what happened. Why don’t you go check on the girls and the rest of them?” The old guys and the prospects were all there. Dax prayed there weren’t any other casualties. Bruce James had been a nice older guy who couldn’t ride because of an old injury to his right hand, but he was still a productive member of the club and he’d be sorely missed. He wished now that he would have spent more time with the old guy rather than letting him feel like he’d just been put out to pasture because he couldn’t ride. He waited until Handsome spoke to the officer blocking the road and got on his bike, headed toward the clubhouse, before he went over toward the “command post.” Captain Banks saw him coming and walked over toward him.

“We can have a seat inside if you like.”

Dax looked up at the mobile command RV and back at the captain. “No thanks. I can stand.”

Banks nodded and said, “Do you mind my asking you where you were this morning?”

“I was in Hartford, at my girlfriend’s place.” Dax wasn’t sure what the look was on the captain’s face at that moment. While he tried to figure it out, his attention was distracted by another car pulling up. This one wasn’t a cop car, so he was curious. A guy about his age with blond hair and in street clothes got out. He had a badge attached to his waistband and a shoulder holster on. The captain was looking at him too, and with another strange look on his face he said:

“I’m sorry, Mr. Marshall, can you excuse me for a minute?” Dax gave him a nod and watched as he went over to talk to the new arrival. Something about the guy looked familiar. He was sure he’d never seen him before, but the guy reminded him of someone and he couldn’t place it. He watched curiously as the man and the captain argued, quietly, and then finally the blond-haired man stormed back over to this car, got in, slammed the door, and left rubber on the road as he left. The captain came back over to Dax and said:

“Sorry about that.”

“Who was that?”

“One of my detectives,” the captain said.

“Do you mind if I ask his name? He looks familiar. I’m just trying to place him.”

The captain raised an eyebrow and said, “Maybe he’s arrested you in the past?”

That anger Dax had been working so hard to contain seeped out into his blood and it heated up. “Listen, I’m doing all I can here to be polite and cooperative, but if you’re going to be an ass, I might just wait until my lawyer gets here to talk to you.”

The captain nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. His name is Detective Brady. He’s supposed to have some time off for personal reasons unrelated to anything that happened here today. I told him to go home. Now if you and I can get back to what we were talking about?”

“Fine. But like I said, I wasn’t here. I’m not sure what I can tell you.”

“Your boy over there.” The captain jerked his head over to where Garfield still sat. “He said that this was the work of Grant Benning and the rest of his crew.”

Dax nodded. “That’s what I was told as well. It makes me wonder why you’re wasting your time talking to me and not picking them up.”

“I’ve got men on it, you can be assured of that. Do you know what it was that they wanted here?”

Dax shrugged. “Who knows what that crazy bastard Hawk is going to do?”

“So there was nothing you had here specifically, or no person here that they were after…that you’re aware of?”

“No. Not that I’m aware of.”

“Your clubs have had a lot of conflict as of late.”

“And each time shit goes down, the Sinners are the ones with their hands dirty…yet me and my crew are still treated like the criminals. Just because a man has a past, doesn’t mean that’s the same path he’s still on.”

The captain raised another eyebrow and then with a strange, concerned look he said, “I’d really like to believe that.”

“Is that all you need from me, Captain? I’d like to check on the rest of my friends.”

“For now, yes. I might need to give you a call later.”

Dax pulled out his wallet again and took out one of Nathan’s cards. “You can call him,” he said. “No offense, but most of my experience with cops has been negative. I’d like to have a friend with me the next time we talk.”

The captain took the card and said, “You’re free to go. You just won’t be given entrance to any of the buildings that are still being processed.”

Dax nodded and went over to this bike. His phone was vibrating in his pocket as he straddled the hog. He pulled it out and saw that it was Angel and for some reason when he saw her name on the screen, a vision of the blond guy popped into his head. It was those eyes. He had those deep green, almond-shaped eyes that Dax loved so much about Angel. Fighting off another bout of suspicion he took a deep breath and answered the phone.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey. Is everyone okay? Are you okay? Should I come out?”

“I’m not sure yet about everyone else. Bruce was shot at the front gates. He didn’t make it.”

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry!”

“I know, babe. Don’t come out. It’s a mess, crawling with cops right now. I know you had a rough night. Stay home and rest. I’ll call you when I finish up here.”

“Okay. Please be safe.”

“I will. Hey, Angel?”

“Yeah?”

What was he going to say? Do you have a brother? Is he a cop? Did you tell him where we would be yesterday? Fuck. He knew it needed to be said, but now wasn’t the time, or at least that’s what he told himself.

“Never mind. I’ll talk to you soon.” He ended the call and for a second stared at the phone while the anxiety about that ate through his stomach. He finally forced himself to tuck it away for now. He needed to deal with the matter at hand. He started the bike and revved the throttle, and as he drove past the police barriers he felt all their eyes on him. He knew what they thought about him and most of the time he didn’t give a fuck. Other times, like now, when he’d been doing everything in his power to stop the war between the two clubs and he got no fucking respect for it, it pissed him off.