CHAPTER ONE

Kyle—

My tires crunch across the gravel parking lot of the Evil Dead MC clubhouse. It's an old red-brick warehouse buried in the back of an industrial park on the wrong side of San Jose. No one ever comes here who doesn't belong.

I back my motorcycle in among my club brother's bikes, drop the kickstand, and swing my leg over.

Marcus, TJ, and Billy stand outside, smoking.

I dig a pack of smokes out of my cut and dip my head to light up. Sucking in a lungful, I feel the tingle as the nicotine floods through my bloodstream.

"Where's Rafe?" Billy asks.

I shrug. "Keeping track of my brother isn't my job."

TJ huffs a laugh. "Since when? You've been like his watchdog for the past couple years."

"Not lately," I snap.

"Heard that chick moved in with him," TJ muses. "How's that goin'?"

"I wouldn't know," I mutter. "The last thing I want to do is get involved in my brother's love life." Especially since I've become obsessed with his girl.

We met her at the same time, but Rafe beat me to the punch. Like I always do, I let him win, not even bothering to give him any competition. It wasn't that I didn't want Sutton. I did. And the way she'd looked at me, I think she was interested. But Rafe swooped in, and I didn't want to get in his way.

"Who the fuck's that?" Billy mutters beside me, drawing my attention toward a silver Mercedes turning in the lot.

"Why does that car look familiar?" I say under my breath.

It comes to a stop on the other side of our line of bikes. The window slides down and a cool blonde who looks in her mid-forties stares at us.

"She's probably lost," TJ mutters, lifting a chin at me. "Find out what she wants."

I toss my smoke and amble toward the car, then dip my head and give her a grin. "Can I help you, darlin'? You lost?"

Her eyes hit the club emblem over the door. "No. This is the place. I need to speak with your president. Is he here?"

Her reply throws me, and I glance at TJ. "She wants your ol' man."

He grinds his cigarette under his boot and opens the clubhouse door a foot, sticking his head inside.

Billy joins me at the car. "What's the problem?"

While he's talking to her, I wander to the back of the car and check the plates. NTGUILTY.

Shit. I immediately realize why this car looks familiar. I gesture to the plate, and Billy strolls over, his eyes following. We exchange a look.

"The club's attorney?" he whispers.

I lift my chin toward the driver's seat. "Must be his widow."

"What the fuck's she doing here?" Billy asks.

Cole pushes out the door and stops in his tracks when he spots the car. Then he approaches, his hands going to the doorframe of the open window as he leans down.

"Joselyn. I heard about Harry. I'm sorry for your loss. He was a good attorney."

"They killed him, Cole," she replies, pushing her shades up to reveal brown eyes and fake lashes.

Cole's chin pulls to the side. "Who did?"

"That's what I need you to find out."

Our prez lifts a brow. "That's a job for the police, honey."

"You and I both know Harry was dirty. The cops don't give a damn who killed him. You're the only one who can help me. Please."

Cole straightens and crosses his arms. "Okay, so I find out who did it, then what?"

She opens her purse wide enough for all of us to see stacks of banded cash. "Then you kill them for me."

Cole grabs the door handle and swings it open, looking a little pissed she's flashing cash and propositioning him for murder in the open parking lot. "Goddamn it, Jos. You can't make an offer like you're ordering a trash pickup."

"I'm sorry. I don't know how this is done." She starts to cry.

Cole sighs. "Come inside. Let's talk in my office."

She climbs from the car, and Prez takes her by the arm, escorting her through the door of the clubhouse.

Billy and I both stare after them, and TJ whistles.

"Who'd have thought Harry Silver would have such a knockout wife?"

"How'd he die?" I ask. "I mean, I heard about it when it happened, but not the details."

"It was in the news. They found him shot in the head, his body dumped in the Edmund G Brown Aqueduct, somewhere out by Santa Nella, I think."

"Was your father close with him?" I ask.

"I don't know."

Green walks up, hearing the end of our conversation. "Harry was a slick asshole, but he won, and that's all we cared about. Plus, he was dirty as hell—always giving Cole the down-low on any rats on probation we needed to track down."

Red Dog joins us, and Green grins at him.

"Remember that little weasel drug dealer who kept movin' into our turf? The one in them apartments near Fruitvale and Piccoli Road?"

Dog laughs. "Yeah, I remember. You tried to jump up to the second-floor walkway like you were an acrobat. Fell and almost broke your back."

"Why you gotta be like that?" Green's shoulders slump.

"Like what?"

"I'm tryin' to tell a story here. Tryin' to educate these boys, and you gotta bring up my failings. It's very hurtful."

Dog rolls his eyes. "But Green, your failings are always the best part of the stories you tell."

"Fuck you, Dog."

"Bite me," he replies, then looks at us. "Come on, youngins. Soon as Cole finishes with the lady, we're having Church."

We follow him inside and go to the bar. I take a seat at the end with a clear shot of the room. I'm on my second beer, my thumbnail scraping the label, thinking of the day Rafe and I took Brayden and Rebel out to Santa Cruz.

"Hey, space cadet." TJ waves his hand in front of my face. "Look who just walked in."

I turn to see the woman I'm obsessed with coming through the door with my brother, Rafe.

"Great." I return to my beer.

TJ laughs, probably because he knows my fake nonchalance won't last thirty seconds. And he's right. I can't help my eyes from roving over her.

Sutton has that surfer girl look—sun-kissed skin, ocean blue eyes, and sandy blonde curls. We met her on the wharf at Santa Cruz last year. It wasn't until a week ago that I heard she'd moved to town to be with Rafe.

The two of them wander toward the pool tables. Sutton scans the clubhouse until she finds me. Then she smiles, before Rafe tugs on her arm and they disappear toward the back.

TJ's gaze follows them, then he twists to study my face. "I don't understand why you let Rafe move in on her. I heard from Brayden she was into you that day you all met. She coulda been yours, Kyle."

"Rafe wanted her. End of story." I tilt my beer up.

"But so did you. What rule says you always gotta let him win?"

"She's with my brother. I'm happy for him."

"Live life for yourself and no one else, Kyle." TJ offers advice I don't want to hear. "His happiness is not your responsibility."

"Just drop it," I growl.

"You can't keep making everything easy for Rafe. What happened that night at Gigi's shop was not your fault."

"Enough," I snap, and several heads turn my way. Last thing I want to do is relive the night I almost lost my brother.