Page 23 of Riot’s Revenge

I hated how quickly I agreed with that. Because he was right, Maria didn’t belong anywhere near the club. She didn’t belong anywhere near men like us. She spent her nights stitching people back together while we spent ours making sure there were people who needed stitching. The further away she stayed from our life, the safer she’d be.

Shadow pushed away from the wall. “We got movement.”

The shift in conversation pulled me back immediately. For the last weeks the Kings had been little more than ghosts. No sightings. No retaliation. Nothing.

The silence had everyone on edge. Every day that passed without hearing from them made the brothers more restless. Men like the Kings didn’t simply disappear, especially not after taking a swing at us. If they weren’t fighting, they were planning.

“What kind of movement?” I asked.

“One of our contacts spotted two Kings southside.”

I frowned. “Only two?”

“That’s what worries me.”

I straightened fully and tossed the rag onto the bench. No matter how many times I turned it over, I kept coming back to the same conclusion. The attack on Reaper and Ghost had been planned too well. The surveillance photos, the burner phones, the warehouse, the routes—someone had put serious thought into it, and none of it felt like the Kings. Somebody way smarter than the Kings.

Shadow’s jaw tightened. “I think somebody’s helping them.”

I nodded slowly. That matched what my instincts had been screaming since the warehouse.

Shadow glanced toward the clubhouse. “Spider’s still digging.”

“Find anything?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “No.”

Spider had a habit of finding things other people missed. If he hadn’t uncovered anything yet, it meant whoever was involved knew how to cover their tracks.

Money, phones, people always left a trail. The fact there wasn’t one yet made me more nervous than if we’d found something.

Shadow rubbed a hand across his beard. “We’re hitting one of their old properties tonight.”

His smile was cold enough to make lesser men nervous.

Shadow headed back toward the clubhouse. “We ride at nine.”

I nodded.

“Be ready.” Then he disappeared inside.

For several moments I remained where I was, staring down at the bike in front of me.

Nine.

The realization settled heavily in my chest. I wasn’t going to see Maria that night. Not that she was sitting around waiting for me. Still, the thought of spending the evening chasing Kings instead of seeing her left an unexpected ache somewhere behind my ribs. I hated it immediately, not because I wouldn’t see her, but because of what it meant. A few weeks ago, I would’ve spent the evening drinking whiskey and finding whichever club girl caught my attention first. It had been simple, easy, and completely free of complications.

Then I found myself disappointed. The realization was uncomfortable enough to make me swear under my breath. I headed inside to clean up before church.

The familiar sounds of the clubhouse greeted me the second I stepped through the door. Music rattled through old speakers overhead, pool balls cracked together near the back, and laughter drifted from the bar where brothers were already gathering.

Brandi crossed the room carrying drinks and smiled when she spotted me. A few weeks ago, I would’ve called her over without a second thought. That time, I looked away. My phone suddenly felt heavy in my pocket. I pulled it out, opened our messages, then stared at the screen like a complete fucking idiot.

Jesus Christ.

What was I doing? I would’ve laughed my ass off if one of the brothers spent ten minutes debating whether he should text a woman. I typed a message, deleted it, typed another, then deleted that one too. Finally, I settled on . . .

Me: Got business tonight. Won’t see you.