Chapter 1

"Sit," Jared "Mac" Mackenzie growled as he dropped down onto the big leather chair behind his desk. The president of my MC—the Silver Saints—had called me in for a meeting after dinner.

I sat on the overstuffed couch on the wall next to the door and stretched my legs out, resting them on the coffee table and crossing my ankles. Our VP, Scout, stood next to the prez, leaning his hip on the desk.

"Got a call from Gary Finch," Scout informed me.

My lips pressed together, and I swallowed a grunt of disgust. Gary Finch was a slimy, unethical lawyer who would serve any master if the ante was high enough. I would've been more than happy to slit the asshole's throat, but he was a necessary evil.

The only honest lawyer willing to work with the MC was on hiatus. Jasper and his wife were in China wading through red tape to adopt a six-year-old boy and his three-year-old sister. There was no telling when they'd be back.

Jasper was a straight arrow, but he saw our complete loyalty to our brothers, how we treated our women, and the respect we had for anyone…until they'd earned our wrath. And he believed in our mission when it came to protecting people, making the scum of the earth disappear, staying away from drugs. So he turned a blind eye to our methods sometimes, along with all the other shit we had our hands in.

However, since he was an honest man, sometimes we were forced to work with fuckers like Gary.

"Rom got picked up two nights ago. Was in Devil's Jesters territory."

My jaw hardened at the name of the rival MC. They were known for their mistreatment of their women and being into shady shit. They also had it out for the Silver Saints ever since Patriot stole—and married-–the sister-in-law of one of their citizens.

"Tell me another brother didn't snatch one of their women," I growled.

Patriot had saved Erin from being forced to submit to being a Devil's Jesters' old lady or a club bunny. According to him, he'd known she was his from the moment he saw her. I didn't understand it, but I respected his decision. However, making this shit a habit would put us at war, something we'd barely escaped with Patriot's situation.

"Naw," Scout answered with a shake of his head. "He was at a diner dropping off a package to a friend who lives in their territory. Police showed up because of a "tip" that he was carrying a stolen weapon. Since he didn't even have his own registered gun, he gave them permission to search his bike. Found the stolen pistol in one of his saddlebags."

I snorted. "They really thought he'd just carry it like that, so anyone could find it? Bullshit."

"Obviously planted," Mac muttered. "Cops in that territory are terrified of the club members, so they took him in."

"Security cameras?" This was always one of the first questions I asked when Mac called me in to give me an order. I was the club"s fixer. The man who made problems disappear, whether by simply resolving the issue or taking care of business by any means necessary—as long as it was under the radar.

"That's one of the reasons Gary called. Seems the tapes that covered any angle of his bike were erased."

"Tapes?" I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. Most people used digital recordings these days.

"Yup," Mac said as he wrote something on a piece of paper, then handed it to me. "Lucky for us, that town is behind the times."

I nodded and took the slip of paper that had an address written on it. "I'll get copies and see what Hack can do with them." He was our resident hacker—one of the best in the world. If anyone could get something off those tapes, he could. "What was the other reason?"

Scout blew out a breath and pushed off the desk to pace. "Somehow, the judge fast-tracked the arraignment and skipped the bail hearing. No clue how he got around it, but Gary barely made it to the courthouse in time since they only contacted him an hour before the hearing yesterday morning."

"What the fuck?" I snarled. "Why are we just hearing about this now?"

"Cops swear up and down that he refused his phone call."

My mood darkened, and anger burned in my belly. I wasn't a sunshine and rainbows type of guy. The girls in the club often called me grumpy. Since it was a pretty accurate description, I just shrugged it off. But the only people who'd seen the truly dark side of me were my brothers. The Silver Saints weren't Boy Scouts. We lived by our own law, but injustice was something I'd never been able to tolerate—even if it was abusing the criminal justice system.

I wasn't a tortured soul or anything pussy-ish like that. My childhood had been normal and even a bit boring. But I'd seen enough of the underbelly of the world to be more than a little jaded. Plus, I'd always been a man of few words. It was one of the reasons I'd stopped including a woman in my thoughts about the future. Even if one had actually piqued my interest—which hadn't happened for a long fucking time—I wasn't the type to say sweet things and make love to a woman. And what were the chances I'd be as lucky as my brothers and meet a woman who would accept my lifestyle and how fucking dirty my hands were?

"Judge gave the lawyers less than twenty-four hours for discovery, so Gary was scrambling, which was why he only just contacted us," Scout explained acidly. He obviously thought Gary's excuse was bullshit, and I had no doubt Scout would rough him up a little to make sure it didn't happen again.

"When is the preliminary hearing?" I asked, wondering how much time I had to get this mess untangled before it went to trial.

Mac slammed a fist on the desktop and shared a look with his VP before facing me once more, his eyes filled with rage. "He produced a document with Rom's signature that waived his right to the hearing."

"And he told the lawyers during a sidebar that if this proceeded to trial, Rom would most likely end up with the max prison time," Scout spat.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I practically shouted. "It's his first offense of any kind. Rom's never had even so much as a speeding ticket. I don't give a fuck if the weapon was reported stolen. It's a misdemeanor at best."

"I agree, but the judge escalated it to a felony. Suggested a bullshit plea bargain of nine years," Scout informed me, his expression twisted with disgust. Which I completely understood since the max sentence for this crime was ten years in prison.

My hands balled into fists, making my knuckles crack. "Let me guess, he also had proof that Rom confessed."

Mac nodded. "Yup, it's supposedly why he denied him bail."

I shook my head in disbelief. "This can't all be the Devil's Jesters. They don't have this much pull."

Running a hand over his beard, Mac grunted in frustration. "Gary thinks the judge is on the take."

Scout rolled his eyes. "He'd know all about that."

Yeah, Gary wasn't loyal to us for any other reason than we paid him a fuck ton of money for it.

Scout handed me another paper, this one with all the information they had on the crooked judge.

"Trial?" I asked.

"Next fucking week," Mac growled. "Don't know who this motherfucker is banging to be able to skirt the rules, but we need to find out."

"You need me to find proof that he's taking bribes?" I clarified. "And that the documents were forged?"

"And prove Rom's innocence," Mac added.

"Done."