Chapter 1

1

STONE

I wasn’t asleep when my alarm went off, but seeing as I was already in a shit mood, I grabbed it and threw it at the wall, smashing it to pieces.

I’d been thinking about this day for two fucking years and had done everything I could to prepare for it. But nothing had worked out the way I’d planned.

It was her birthday.

She was eighteen.

Finally, I could make her mine.

Except the shit that took her away from me hadn’t been resolved.

Britta Hughes had been barely sixteen when she and her mother came to the Iron Rogues for help.

Motorcycle Clubs were secretive by nature, but there were a few things the public knew. No one could say that we lived on the right side of the law…we had blood on our hands, dealt in shady shit, and had our own brand of justice. But we also had honor, loyalty, and limits. We even worked with the local law enforcement from time to time—outside of Old Bridge, because we basically owned the small town and our own laws were the only ones enforced there.

When it came to certain things, we were the judge, jury, and even executioner. We didn’t tolerate drugs anywhere near our territory, and human traffickers had a habit of disappearing when brought to our attention.

But in the right circles, people also knew we would protect those who needed it. They knew they could come to us for help, even in the event that they needed to disappear. Unlike the government who tossed people into WITSEC—and attempted to handle the problem legally—we simply eliminated the fucking threat.

Britta’s mother, Marylin, had been unknowingly working as a bartender for one of the biggest crime bosses in Chicago, and she also happened to be in a relationship with one of his enforcers. She confronted him when she overheard him talking to an associate about a shipment of girls.

He beat the shit out of her and told her to keep her mouth shut. Then he threatened Britta to keep Marylin in the relationship.

He’d never touched her in anger before that incident, but he must have gotten a taste for it because the beatings continued, the frequency and intensity increasing.

We had an Iron Rogues chapter just north of the city. One of the officers had a daughter who went to school with Britta. They had become good friends, and the next time Marylin ended up in the hospital, the girl went to her dad.

He contacted Fox, who agreed to help the mother and daughter hide until we could handle the issue and allow them to come out of hiding.

When they arrived at our clubhouse, I’d taken one look at Britta with her wavy blond hair, jade-green eyes, and incredible curves and knew she would be mine someday. But despite the fact that she had the body of a woman and had clearly been forced to grow up too fucking fast, she was only sixteen.

She was too fucking young for me. Even if she had been legal, there were still fourteen years between us. But that wasn’t going to stop me when the time came.

I had to ignore the sparks between us and keep my distance until she was of age, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t watch over her. I protected what was mine.

But then the choice was taken away from me.

Fox had made all the arrangements and refused to tell me anything. No matter how many times I petitioned him to give me the details and let me protect her.

Fox didn’t want my presence bringing attention to them or risking that Britta would notice me and blow her cover trying to see me.

His decision was logical, but when it came to Britta, I wasn’t in a rational frame of mind.

I’d always been a laid-back guy. Quick with a smile and a joke, even though I was torn up and broken inside. An incident in my past had left deep wounds, but I kept them to myself and only let the anger and sorrow out when we were interrogating scum or delivering justice to people who didn’t deserve to live.

However, since Fox first denied my request to keep watch over Britta, I’d slowly lost the ability to pretend. The closer I got to her birthday, the fouler my mood was. Every time Fox denied me access to my woman, it got even worse.

Lately, I was basically in a constant state of asshole. I just didn’t have the emotional capacity to give a fuck.

My phone vibrated on the small table next to my bed, and I scowled as I grabbed it. The text was from Fox, telling me we needed to meet about club business in thirty minutes.

I’d lived at the clubhouse the past five years, ever since I’d patched in at twenty-seven. Although, I’d been looking for a new place recently because I wasn’t gonna live here with Britta.

I decided to hurry and get ready so I could hopefully have a few minutes with Prez before everyone else arrived.

Fox was reading a document when I entered, but he lowered it to the desk when I approached.

He took one look at my face and shook his head. “No.”

“She’s eighteen today,” I stated, even though I knew he was perfectly aware of what day it was.

Fox’s eyes narrowed as he leaned back in his chair. “Doesn’t change my answer, Stone.”

The warning was clear in his tone, but my fury and desperation blinded me. “Need to know they’re safe,” I said through gritted teeth.

“I would tell you if they weren’t. And like I’ve said many times, you’ll be my first call when the time is right.”

“Who decides when the time is right?” I growled.

Fox leaned forward, and his eyes hardened, the cold depths clearly showing the ruthless leader we all feared and respected. “You questioning my decisions, citizen?”

I swallowed hard and shook my head.

“Thin fucking ice, Stone. Now sit your ass down and wait for the others. We have shit to deal with.”

I needed this meeting to be over as soon as fucking possible. Before my rage consumed me, and I did something stupid.

“Need your head in the game, Stone,” Fox continued. He handed me a slip of paper with a date, time, and address. “Gonna send Viper with you. You need someone to watch your back.”

Translation: I needed someone to make sure I didn’t lose focus and muck shit up. Fair enough .

I knew he wouldn’t tell me anything else until the others arrived, so I took a deep breath and tried to calm down as I ambled over to a couch and dropped down onto it. The paper crumpled as my hands curled into fists, and I rested them on my thighs.

Maverick was grinning smugly when he and Viper, our tail gunner, walked into the room together. “Molly needed my help with something,” he told Viper.

“Guessing it was the same thing Rhiannon needed help with,” Viper quipped.

“Seriously?” I snapped. “You’re late because you were fu?—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Stone,” Fox interrupted with a scowl. “Unless you want an ass-kicking that would put you in traction for a month.”

I pressed my lips together, holding back the caustic remark that was on the tip of my tongue. Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned back into the couch.

“You’re being more of an asshole than usual,” Viper observed as he took one of the chairs at a small, round table on the opposite side of Fox’s desk.

I frowned intensely at him but remained quiet.

“He’s pissed at me,” Fox explained, not sounding nearly as angry as I expected.

Viper raised a brow, and Mav huffed as he went around the desk and settled himself against the wall just to the left of the prez. “Britta?” he guessed.

“She’s eighteen,” I growled.

“And we still haven’t eliminated the threat to them,” Mav argued. “As soon as we do and it’s safe for them, you’ll have their location.”

We’d been working on taking out the organization that was targeting Marylin and Britta. It was unusual for us to take this long to get shit handled. However, we had to take down the boss for the girls to be truly safe. His name and location were so closely guarded that our only option had been to start at the bottom of the ladder. No one knew the players in the group who were above their direct supervisor, so we interrogated one and moved up to the next, then did it again. Sometimes multiple people were on the next rung, which meant hunting them all down until we figured out who had the information we needed to continue to climb.

Glaring at Mav, I unfolded my arms, and my hands curled into fists again as I rested them on my knees. “I protect what’s mine.”

“Enough,” Fox barked. “Do not question my orders, Stone. I’ve let you get away with a lot of shit when it involved Britta because I understand your frustration. But if you take it too far, I’ll have your patch. Understood?”

I watched him warily for a moment. He was right. It was rare for the prez or VP to put up with the kind of shit I’d been giving them for the past two years. Clearly, I’d reached their limit. So I nodded and tried to relax.

Fox jerked his chin up and down with finality, then turned to face his computer. “An informant just passed along word of an auction he’s heard about. Gave us a time and location, but he wasn’t sure how accurate the intel is.”

“Fuck,” Viper muttered.

“Same motherfuckers?” I asked.

“Looks like it.”

We’d been stalking a trafficking ring for a few months, but every time we got close, they were gone—along with the girls—by the time we arrived. With every miss, I got closer to the edge of my rage and sanity. One of the few things that kept me from losing my mind was thinking about what I was gonna do to those fuckers when we finally found them.

“Where did the information come from?” Viper asked. Likely thinking as I was, that our informants had been less than reliable in the past.

“Wouldn’t tell me,” Fox grunted. “But he was adamant that it was accurate. Never seen him so determined to have me believe him.”

“Inside man?” Mav suggested.

Fox shrugged and scrubbed his hands over his face. “No fucking clue. But if we don’t take these assholes down this time, heads are gonna roll. I will bring in every informant, every person who ever gave us even the slightest inkling that they knew something or might have been involved. By the time we’re done with them, they’ll be spilling every fucking secret they have.”

Viper nodded in agreement. “Details?”

“New York. In the port district.” Fox handed him a slip of paper, and he glanced at it, frowning deeply when he saw the date, time, and address.

“That’s over a thirteen-hour drive,” I grumbled.

Fox grunted, “Gives me time to touch base with Nic.”

Nic DeLuca was the head of the New York Mafia and a client of the Iron Rogues. But he was also a close friend of Fox’s. “His organization has been after the same group, so I asked him to do more digging into the accuracy of the tip. And no one will know you two.”

I tuned out whatever the three of them said next, but my attention was snagged when something flew through the air, and Viper caught it.

Jealousy burned in my gut when he held up a property vest. He was headed home to give it to his woman.

There was a similar vest hanging in my closet. Only this one said, “Property of Stone.” Fox had given it to me shortly after the first time he refused to tell me where my girl was.

“It’s gonna happen,” he’d told me. “Now you’ll be ready when it does.”

It took over a week to resolve the situation in New York. We’d teamed up with the DeLucas and managed to bust the operation in time to save the latest shipment of girls.

Before we left, we had dinner with Nic, his wife Anna, and their cute kids. Afterward, Nic asked me to join him in his home office.

He walked around his large, mahogany desk and sat down. “Have a seat,” he offered, gesturing to the leather wingback chairs in front of him.

I watched him tap on a laptop as I sat.

After a minute, he wrote something on a slip of paper and handed it to me.

“The head of the family in Chicago”—and by family, he meant the Mafia—“is a good friend. Kye explained your situation to me, and I reached out to Francesco to see if he could be of any help.”

I glanced at the paper and saw the name Francesco Bianchi and a phone number.

“He offered to assist in any way he could. He was already familiar with the organization that you’re trying to take down. They knew about the drugs and prostitution rings but not that the girls were being bought and sold. Like me, Francesco does not tolerate human trafficking. As you’ve discovered, they are not easy to infiltrate, and taking them down one by one is a long-drawn-out process. He has some ideas on how to move forward that I think could be very valuable.”

Nic gestured to the paper. “He’s expecting your call.”

“Mine?” I raised a brow, and Nic cocked his head as she studied me. “Kye said you were in charge of the operation to nail these figli di puttana. Was I misinformed?”

“No,” I replied. I was gonna fucking owe my prez big for giving this to me. Especially when I’d been such a bastard lately.

“Thanks,” I said with an appreciative nod as I stood. We shook hands, and he inclined his head. “ Buona fortuna ,” he said, wishing us luck.