Cody and Dax were sitting at a table in a place called “The Rusty Nail.” It was a bar a few miles down the road from the Head Hunters clubhouse and one of their primary hangouts.

“Hey, pretty, will you give an old man a whiskey?” The old man sat down at the bar and beckoned the pretty young woman behind it. His hair was long and greasy and a dull shade of gray. His belly protruded out the front of his vest and lapped over the top of his jeans. He had a long, dirty-looking beard, and every exposed part of skin had a liver spot or a puckered scar. The girl smiled at him like he was Brad Pitt.

“Of course I’ll get you a whiskey, Benny, and don’t call yourself old, you’re just in your prime.” She sat a glass down in front of him and poured whiskey into it until it was almost overflowing, then looking at the man next to him she said, “What can I get for you, Prez?”

Cody looked at the patch on the man’s vest then. It was almost the same as the one Dax wore. They’d met the VP, a big, coarse man named Randall. His daughter was the one taking care of Gunner, although Cody had a hard time looking at the man and believing that beautiful young woman was any part of him. He looked at Dax. Dax was watching the man at the counter. He wasn’t a big guy, and he didn’t look very formidable, but Cody had heard stories about his volatility. He was a guy that you didn’t want to be on the wrong side of. He struck down his enemies without mercy and he took no prisoners. His road name was Swinger. The rumors were that when the man was sergeant at arms, his trademark way of leaving his defeated enemies was swinging from the end of a rope.

“I don’t understand any of this,” Cody said finally. He’d been thinking it for days, but he had come a long way with watching his mouth around Dax.

“What is it you don’t understand?” Dax asked.

“Why we’re here.”

“We’re here to meet with that man right there. Swinger.”

“I mean here in Texas. I don’t understand why we’re doing this. Since I got out, all I’ve seen and heard is you trying to build a life on that ranch where families can raise their kids and nobody is worried about the doors getting kicked in. These people are ready to go to war. Why are we getting involved in that?”

“If I recall, it wasn’t too long ago that you called me ‘soft’ because I wasn’t willing to wage a war.”

Cody felt his face go hot. He’d never called Dax soft to his face. He was stupid not to believe everything he said on that ranch would be taken back to Dax as soon as he said it. “I was fresh out of prison. I didn’t know anything but the lifestyle. I’ve seen how the ranch runs now and how happy everyone is. It’s a good place to raise a family.”

“You see that now you have a family of your own.” Cody had a little boy he adored. He had a wife he adored. He also had a secret, but none of that had anything to do with this. He was genuinely concerned Dax was leading the club into a fight they didn’t belong in because he felt some connection to the stupid kid who happened to look like him.

“I guess it has something to do with that, yeah. But putting my own family aside, I just don’t know why you’d want to risk all we have on the ranch for…” He stopped there. He didn’t know what to call Gunner without pissing Dax off.

“For?”

“For these people, Dax. The Head Hunters have a reputation for being one of the most violent clubs around. Their president over there thinks of himself as one of those Renaissance kings. When he’s pissed off at someone he just says, ‘Off with his head,’ and it’s done. From what I hear, Eddie Martini isn’t one to back down from a fight either. But this isn’t our fight.”

Dax looked around the bar again and back at Cody and said, “You think I’m doing anything for these people?”

“Gunner then?”

“Everything I do…everything I’ve done since this patch was put on my chest, Cody, it’s all been for my family. My club, our club, that’s my family. One thing that I’ve realized, though, is while we all preach respect and family, our kids keep getting lost in the shuffle. Symone was abused, Michael is sitting in county waiting to go to trial because he’s met with nothing but neglect in his life. You and Keller…Jesus, what happened to the two of you was happening right under my nose. Then there’s Gunner…this kid was raised by a teenage prostitute and then turned out onto the streets and exploited by the likes of Eddie Martini. My father was responsible for that. He knocked up a young girl and left her alone with a vest to give to his offspring. He knew what a shit life he was leaving that kid, and he did it anyway. Don’t you see that is what I’m willing to fight for? I don’t know these kids Eddie is exploiting. I don’t know where they came from. But I know that people walk past them on the street every day and do nothing for them and I don’t want to be one of those people. I can’t save them all, but I believe things happen for a reason and the reason Gunner was brought into my life…into all of our lives…was so I could help some of them.”

“Dax…what happened to me and Keller and Michael and Symone…none of that is your fault.”

“But it is, don’t you see? It’s everyone’s fault except for the kid who ends up losing in the end. Every one of us that turns a blind eye to it is condoning it.”

“But getting involved with this club and starting a war with a gangster…”

“Is my call,” Dax said. That statement served its purpose. It shut Cody down.

“What can I get y’all to drink?” The cute little bartender was at their table.

“I’ll have a draft beer and a shot of Jack,” Dax told her.

“I’ll have the same,” Cody said. Dax started to pull out his wallet, and she said:

“Oh, no. Prez says your money’s no good here. I’ll be right back with those drinks and some pretzels for y’all.” Cody watched the young woman’s pert ass as she walked away. When he looked back up, Swinger was at the edge of their table. Dax stood up so Cody followed suit.

“Finally I get the privilege of meeting the great Dax Marshall,” the older man said. He sounded sincere, but Cody thought he saw something dark in the other man’s eyes. Dax shook his hand and said:

“I can say the same about you, Swinger. I’ve been meaning to get out here and meet you for years now. The timing just hasn’t ever been right until now.”

Swinger shook Dax’s hand and then looked at Cody. He read his patch before putting out his hand. Cody shook it and said, “I’m Cody Miller, one of Dax’s sergeants at arms.”

“Let’s sit and talk,” Swinger said. Dax and Cody sat back down and Swinger took one of the empty seats. “I was out of town when all of this shit with Martini went down. My guys have filled me in, and I know what our motivation for taking Martini out of business is. We’ve been butting heads with him for years over territory. I’d like to hear your reasons.”

“I have two reasons. First off, he’s going to come after my guy Gunner and his friends.”

“And the other?”

“This pig exploits kids. I want it to stop.”

Swinger smiled. Something about the guy still rubbed Cody the wrong way. He wasn’t sure what it was. He was so average-looking. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin with a light dusting of stubble across it. He was barely six foot tall and maybe 180 pounds. He seemed to smile easily and so far, he’d been nothing but welcoming to them, but there was something about him that caused Cody’s soul to shiver. “Good enough. I say we go to ‘church’ and start making plans.”

* * *

Tamara finally had the house to herself…almost. Patty and Billy had gone back to open Patty’s bar with two prospects Tamara’s dad had insisted they take with them for protection. The guys were all at “church” tonight, undoubtedly planning their next move. Tamara always knew when something was up, but they never gave her any details. She was used to it and she was used to cleaning up the messes afterwards. It didn’t mean she liked it, just that it was her life, at least for now. Lately she’d been wondering if she should make some changes. She just hadn’t gotten that far yet.

Blue-Eyes was still in the house. He’d tried to go to “church” with them but Dax had insisted he stay behind and rest. He was moving around more during the day and Tamara could tell he was getting antsy, cooped up, but he tired easily and Tamara thought that Dax was right and a “church” meeting might be too much for him. “Church” was what the executive board called the meetings where everyone in the club was included. Everyone except for the women, of course. Sometimes she felt like she was living in an episode of I Love Lucy where the menfolk made the living and the little lady took care of the house. She was always an inch away from leaving it all behind, but it had a strange pull on her that she so far hadn’t been able to break free of.

Tonight however, she had her little house back to herself, almost, and she was going to enjoy it. She took a long leisurely bubble bath, pulled her hair into a wet ponytail when she was finished, and pulled on a pair of Dallas Cowboy shorts and a tank top. Then she went out to the kitchen to find something to eat. She flipped on the iPod before pulling open the fridge, and while she dug through it to find out what she wanted to eat, she danced to the beat of the music.

One good thing about the guys always showing up to eat at her house was that her father made sure the prospects always kept her well-stocked with groceries when they made a run for the club. She pulled out a package of turkey, mayonnaise, mustard, lettuce, and a jar of pickles and sat them on the counter. As she shut the refrigerator and reached for the bread on top, a song she liked came on and she started to sing. Her song came to an abrupt stop when she turned around and saw that Blue-Eyes was no longer sleeping.

Gunner was leaning into the doorframe dressed in a baggy pair of sweatpants she’d left in the room for him earlier that day. They were Tommy’s, and her brother was a big guy so they were hanging low on his hips…and damn, did those hips look yummy. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and for a second she couldn’t do anything but stare at the tight, lean muscles in his chest that worked their way down past a flat stomach and into a “V” at the front of the sweats. She finally realized she was staring, and embarrassed, she brought her eyes back up to his face. He had a smile playing at the edges of his sexy lips and even with the cuts and bruises on his face still healing, she thought he was fucking beautiful. That was a dangerous thought. Her dad and Tommy only left him alone with her on Dax’s assurances that she was “safe.” If she fucked him and they found out about it, they wouldn’t leave him so pretty. With a heavy sigh, she reached over and switched off the music. Folding her arms across her chest, she said, “What are you doing?”

“Just enjoying the show.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”

“Sorry, but in my defense, I really wasn’t sneaking. You were just…preoccupied.”

He was looking at her in a way that made her veins feel like they were on fire, but she didn’t want him to know that. He was a wannabe biker and even without her father and Tommy’s interference, Tamara steered clear of bikers when it came to romance. She loved her family and her club but she never wanted to be anybody’s old lady. She’d watched it eat her mother alive and make her ugly and resentful inside in the end.

When Tommy and Tamara were twelve years old, their mother left their father and the club. Tommy stayed with Dad and Tamara went with Mom. Their mother remarried an investment banker and their lives went from biker barbecues to society cotillions. Tamara hated it, and when she was fourteen she told her mother she wanted to go back and live in the clubhouse with her dad. She wasn’t cut out to be a princess or to date boys from the country club. Her mother wouldn’t hear of letting her go back and live there, so Tamara ran away. The first two times she showed up at the clubhouse her father loaded her up on his Harley and took her back home. The last thing he wanted around all those bikers was a fresh-faced, pubescent girl he had to watch every minute.

When Tamara was fifteen she showed up for a third time. When he tried to take her back, she told him that the next time she ran away she would find somewhere else to go. She was just headstrong enough that he didn’t doubt she was telling him the truth, so that time he talked her mother into letting her stay. She found out later that part of the deal he’d made with her mother included an all-girl private school in San Antonio. She had to admit that parent-teacher conferences were amusing. Her father drew everyone’s attention when he drove up in front of the school on his Harley, in his leather kutte and with his long hair and beard. The other girls mostly steered clear of her, and dating in high school was practically nonexistent.

Despite her father’s best efforts to raise her up as a lady, she found a way every chance she got to be a part of the club. She hung out with Stitch while he was patching the guys up. She learned how to work on motorcycles by following Ray around in the shop and when she was seventeen, she finally convinced Tommy to teach her how to ride a Harley. She had her own now and although she was without a patch and without a title, she was as much a member of the Head Hunters as any one of them.

“I was preoccupied in my own home, finally alone,” she said, sharply. She regretted it immediately. He looked hurt or embarrassed. This one didn’t have the thick skin that most men in her world had developed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a rough week.”

“No,” he said. “I’m sorry. This has got to be hard on you. I imagine you have a lot better things to do than play nursemaid to me and cook for a bunch of unruly bikers.”

Tamara sadly did not. She was finished with school and she didn’t have a job. With a sigh, she said, “Not really. You want a sandwich?”

“You don’t have to wait on me, I can fix it.”

“You’ll never make it as a biker with that attitude. Women are put on this earth to cook, clean, and fuck.” That last part had slipped out, and she turned her back to him to keep him from seeing her blush. She reached for the bread and pulled out two slices to busy herself as he said:

“I don’t know a lot about biker life, and I know I haven’t known you long, but it seems to me that you mean a lot more to these guys than that.”

She turned and looked at him. He smiled at her and her pulse sped up. “I’m lucky in that I was born the daughter of the vice president, otherwise I might just be another club girl. What do you want on your sandwich?”