CHAPTER ONE

It was another scorcher of a day at Belle Fleur. Although still technically spring, south Louisiana didn't give a damn. It was hot, humid, and ready to break free into full-blown summer. You could expect an afternoon downpour, the clouds so heavy they had no other option but to release their moisture. You could set your clocks to it, which made it all the more charming and magical.

As the Gray Wolf team gathered in their conference room, they couldn't seem to get started, watching out the window as the boys from Steel Patriots Motorcycles loaded two custom bikes onto a trailer. As with everything SPM did, the motorcycles were positively exquisite. The best parts, motors, pipes, chrome, and the paint jobs were spectacular. Almost everything was built in their shop, custom per the expectations of the customer. This was going to be another magazine cover.

The client was a well-known action movie star. Originally, the team had been skeptical of building two bikes for him. Their history with Hollywood types wasn't good. They always seemed to disappoint. They would ask for something, and it wasn't quite right, and then they would demand a discount or want it remade. They'd been very careful to vet their customers, making sure that they understood the requirements of building a bike like this.

But this guy was genuine. He knew what he wanted and trusted the process, and more importantly, trusted SP Cycles. He showed up in twenty-year-old ripped jeans, scuffed motorcycle boots, his long hair twisted on top of his head, and more than anything that impressed them, was that he was driving the bikes back to California himself.

Nine stared at Skull as he stood next to the action movie star.

"Fuck me, he's nearly as big as Skull. Maybe the dude is for real," he mumbled.

"I love his movies. Always crazy, funny, action-packed. He seems genuine. The last one, he hired Spike Milligan, ex-SEAL, as a consultant to be sure they got every action sequence correct," said Gaspar. "I gotta respect a brother who does that."

"Maybe we go say hello," said Ghost. The men nodded, walking out of their offices, which were directly next door to the shop.

"Jesus, what do they feed you brothers around here?" he laughed, shaking his head. He had a big smile on his face, walking toward the men who were approaching, his hand already extended for a handshake.

"Jacob, these are my fellow teammates and owners of everything you see here," said Skull. "Nine, Gaspar, Ghost, Ian, Miller, Antoine, Raphael, Baptiste, Jean, Angel, Whiskey, Bull, and Dex. There are more, but they must be busy."

"Pleasure to meet all of you, but even I'm not that good at memorizing lines," he smirked. "Forgive me if I get a name wrong. You guys ever think about working in the movies? I got a place for you on the next picture if you want it. We could make a badass team, and it would be fucking unbelievable."

"We try to stay out of the spotlight," smirked Ghost. "Looks like the boys fixed you up with two good bikes."

"Good? Brother, these things are fucking badass. I'm gonna be the envy of everyone out there. I've waited a year for these, and it was worth every damn second."

"I'm kind of surprised that you didn't have someone picking them up for you," said Gaspar. "No offense."

"None taken," laughed Jacob. "I don't trust other people to take care of my shit. It was a nice drive out here, and I'll take my time going back. Besides, who wouldn't love a little visit to New Orleans?"

"Who's the woman on the tank?" smirked Bull. Jacob laughed, shaking his head.

"I don't know," he said, grinning at the men. He rubbed his jaw, shaking his head. "I know it sounds like I'm stoned, but I keep having this dream of her, and I don't know who the hell she is. So, as they say, put it into the universe, and it will manifest itself." The men laughed, shaking their heads.

"Well, we just had to say hello," said Nine. "We like your work and appreciate the authenticity in it."

"Brother, that means everything to me. Thank you." He shook the hands of every man around him, a strong, firm handshake, looking them in the eyes. When he slowly pulled away in the big pickup truck and trailer with the two brand-new bikes, the men just smirked at one another.

"What's the saying, book, cover, some shit like that?" smiled Ian.

"He's different," said Skull. "Dude was in on the design from day one, but not in a bossy, know-it-all way. He was available any time we called to talk about the bikes. Paid in cash."

"What?" frowned Ghost.

"Yep," laughed Skull. "More than a hundred and fifty thousand. Cash."

"Fuck, who's watching that deposit?" asked Gaspar. Skull just shook his head.

"He did it through wire transfer. It's already in our account. Plus, he's got some friends just like him that have already started calling for bikes. I'm telling you guys, we're so fucking busy we need to hire more people, and we may need to expand the shop and damn sure the build area."

"You know the rule, brother. They need to be vetted. If we can find any brothers that want to join, we could always welcome more. Maybe ask Jake as well. He may know someone. You know Mama, the more the – whatever," growled Gaspar. "I'm afraid if I speak it, I'll turn around and find a grizzly bear or fucking rhino."

The team just laughed, congratulating the boys in the bike shop for another great job. Just their tank artwork alone was creating a stir for Callan's tattoo shop. Visitors might not be able to afford an SP bike, but they could manage to get a miniature tattoo of the art.

"Alright, back to order. I think we should all feel good about how the last mission ended. Considering the circumstances, it ended as well as could be expected," said Gaspar.

"Yeah, and Pork got himself a wife in the deal," laughed Ghost. The others smiled, nodding at the man.

"We've got a few small things going on. Teddy, Sven, and George are downtown working with Molly and Asia in the shelter. It's going to be amazing. Grant really outdid himself in the design. There'll be bunks on the second floor, separating boys and girls, but there will be a spot for siblings who don't want to be separated.

"Counseling will be offered, but it won't be mandatory. We don't want these kids to run and not return to us if they need help. Between seven p.m. and five a.m., the bottom will be open for kids who just want to be off the streets at night. We've got games going in, a basketball court, showers, and we'll have clothing donation bins."

"It's fucking amazing," said Antoine. "Those kids need somewhere to go."

"What's next?" asked Miller.

"We've got a few cases that we could choose from. We damn sure can't take them all." He spread out the folders for everyone to look at and have a vote.

"This one is interesting," said Angel. "I don't know anything about dating websites, but this woman thinks her identity was stolen, as well as her bank account and credit cards hacked, from the site, and she suspects she's being followed. I'd say that's reason enough to take this one."

"I don't have any clue how those things work," said Gaspar. "We've got enough younger people here to help us out if we need it. Although I'm not sure any of them have ever used a dating website." Several of the men were frowning, looking from one to the other.

"Just how the fuck does that work?" asked Ian.

"Why are you looking at me?" growled Angel.

"Because you're so pretty," said Ian sweetly.

"Fuck you. I love my wife, and I have never needed help getting a date. I pushed more away than I took. I definitely wouldn't have used a dating site. That shit is scary."

"A few years ago, one of Rush's friends from high school got caught up in some dating scheme. He did this online shit and met some woman he thought was the one. She took him to the cleaners. Stole all the shit in his apartment, emptied his bank account, everything. All that happened before he even met her. Turns out the photo she was using was from a magazine she picked up in the grocery store. The woman was like forty-two or something," said Jean.

"What is wrong with people?" said Nine.

"Do you want an answer to that?" smirked Ian. "Never mind. It would take me too long to explain."

"Look, I think we should follow up on this. I don't like the idea of these damn sites, and I definitely don't like a young woman being afraid to go out of her home," said Angel.

"Give her a call and set up something tomorrow if she's available," said Gaspar. "I'm inclined to agree with you. I don't like a woman being afraid to leave her own damn home, and I sure as fuck don't like some asshole out there stealing, taking identities, and leaving these poor women heartbroken." Angel nodded.

"Let's do it."