5. Sage

My head is pounding when I open my eyes, and the light coming through the window is blinding.

"Sage." Another round of banging comes at my door as Dad pounds his fist against it, and I roll over. "Kane wants to see us."

"Got it," I yell, listening to Dad's footsteps disappear down the hall.

Glancing at the clock, it's only ten, and Kane's never up this early when the club parties like we did last night, so I don't know why he's in a fucking hurry.

I roll out of bed and slip on a clean T-shirt and jeans. Alcohol might as well be leaking from my pores, so I really need a shower. But if Kane's waiting, it means I barely have time to brush my teeth and put my boots and cut on before heading downstairs.

The clubhouse smells like cigarettes and vomit this morning.

I'm not sure what that says about the fact that we live here. People are passed out on random pieces of furniture, and the floor is sticky from spilled booze. The bottoms of my shoes stick with each step as I make my way through the chaos.

As a prospect, I'll be expected to clean this shit up, and I can't wait until I'm fully patched because it's much more fun making the mess.

Making my way through the main living space, I head toward the voices coming from the kitchen. The smell of coffee in the air has my head buzzing. I pull out a cigarette and light it, trying to wake myself up before I walk into whatever meeting Kane has planned for us first thing in the morning.

Lyla hates it when I smoke.

She hates how I party.

She hates that I'm a biker.

And as I lift my cigarette to my lips and take a drag that makes my head spin, I hate that I care.

That girl has been getting in my head lately. Hanging around the clubhouse, reading fortunes like some kind of spell-casting temptress who won't leave my fucking mind. Showing up at parties, knowing she's eighteen now and there's nothing I can do about it. Walking around in her fishnets and itty-bitty skirts, looking too grown up. Acting like she isn't trouble just waiting to happen.

After she left last night, I drank an entire bottle of Jameson by myself. And when that did fuck-all to erase her from my thoughts, I smoked until I passed out. Didn't help. She's in my home, in my head, in my dreams.

She's fucking torturing me.

I've been looking after her for years. She's annoying and opinionated and the biggest pain in my ass. But one look of her violet eyes when she had the nerve to tell me she thinks we're destiny. And I swear I felt something in my chest crack.

Which is really fucking inconvenient as I walk into the kitchen and am faced with the full force of her father's glare—my club president. If I value my nuts or my life, I'll figure out how to ignore whatever she's stirring up.

"Took you long enough." Nick glares at me when I walk into the room.

He's had a bone to pick with me for years, and now that I'm a prospect and he's on the council, he hates how much Kane keeps me in the loop when usually only members get the privilege.

"Shut it," Kane says, and Nick grimaces as he stares at me.

I make my way over to the counter and pour a cup of coffee before dropping into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and taking another drag of my cigarette. Kane, my dad, Steel, and Steel's VP, Helix, are all lined up against the wall. And a few members sit at the table or stand around—including asshole Nick.

"We've got a problem." Steel crosses his arms over his chest and stands up tall.

He might be young, but he's a terrifying dude given how he commands a room and has a reputation for demolishing anyone who gets in his path.

"Someone got wind of the run to San Bernardino. We lost the shipment."

"All of it?"

Steel nods, his jaw clenching.

I glance at Kane while my dad leans in to whisper something to him. All four of them are pissed, and it's unsurprising given that was the biggest gun shipment the club has run in over a year. It was Kane's chance to prove the LA chapter could handle more complex tasks.

Glancing around the room, I realize why this particular group was called downstairs this early. We're the only members of the club who knew about the run.

"Who took it?" Nick has the balls to speak up, and I almost laugh at his inability to read a room.

"If I knew that, do you think I'd be standing here talking to you assholes? Or would I be skinning them alive and burning their shit to the ground?" Steel narrows his gaze at Nick, effectively shutting him up. "Satan's Reapers were among the group that hit us, but I don't know for sure if they were running it. What I do know is, there's a traitor among us, and we're going to find him."

A Reaper attacking is one thing, but internal threats are something I haven't come across since prospecting. And now I understand why Steel and Helix are really in town.

"Kane." Steel glances over at him. "Any ideas?"

Helix breathes out an unamused laugh. "Like he fucking knows. It's his damn club running loose."

Steel's glare cuts in Helix's direction, shutting him up.

It's no secret Helix and Kane don't get along. They're both old-school bikers in their own right. Their ideas mix like oil and water, which is why it's rare Helix even comes to town when Steel does. But given the circumstances, I understand why he's here.

"Yeah, I have a few ideas," Kane answers Steel, ignoring Helix's comment. "Hawk and I will get to the bottom of it."

He scans the room, and smoke might as well be coming from his ears. Kane looks ready to murder each and every one of us, me included.

"Good." Steel pats him on the shoulder. "I've got my own shit back home to deal with. I trust you'll take care of it before it escalates."

Kane nods at Steel, and then Steel and Helix leave the room, trailed by the couple of guys from their club who came with them. And once they're gone, the tension seems even thicker. I can't tell who'll snap first, Kane or my dad.

They've both given their blood and sweat for this club. Someone betraying them might as well be sacrilegious.

"I want to see each of you in church. One by one. We're going to talk." Kane turns to walk away. "Nick, you're first."

Nick rolls his eyes but follows, and as they do, I get up and walk over to Dad.

He holds a hand out, and I pass him a cigarette and a lighter.

"This is bad."

Dad nods, lighting it and taking a drag. "Worse, they didn't just take the shipment, they left a message."

"What kind of message?"

Dad looks around the room, but everyone's in their own conversations, not listening to us.

"It wasn't an attack on the club so much as it was an attack on Kane specifically. They said they're going to prove he's not fit to run the Twisted Kings, and they're going to prove it by destroying everything he's ever built."

"Fuck." I finish my cigarette, putting it out in an ashtray on the counter. "Someone's got a personal vendetta?"

"Yeah." Dad nods.

"How far do you think they'll take it?" I pull out another cigarette, and I can practically hear Lyla scolding me in the back of my head.

"Don't know." Dad shakes his head. "And I don't think I want to find out."

A couple of guys are laughing in the corner, too relaxed to be guilty. But then again, traitors are good at hiding in plain sight.

"I should get in there." Dad pats me on the shoulder. "Watch your back, Sage. This might be on Kane, but who knows what they'll do to get to him."

Once more, my thoughts trail to the witchy, dark-haired temptress who has taken up residence in my head. Dad's right. Who knows how far they'll go. And I'm not sure I want to find out.