Madden: too late, bro. Too late. I’m already on the dark side, and it’s all kinds of fun over here.
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t.
Instead, I leaned backward and snapped a picture of his daughter—in my fucking bed—and sent it to him.
Madden: she looks okay. Thanks for taking care of her, man.
And I had a feeling that those words didn’t extend to her being in my bed. Nor me being wrapped around her like a goddamn leach this morning when I’d woken.
Reaching down for the phone charger, I plugged my phone in and set it on the nightstand, then fell backward onto my back and brought my arms up to rest underneath my head.
Once there, I stayed like that for what felt like forever.
Until she woke up next to me and there was light pouring through the bedroom windows, indicating that it was well past morning.
She popped her head up and blinked cutely for a few seconds, her eyes adjusting to the light that was lighting the room.
She yawned, and I quickly closed my eyes.
Like the little coward that I was.
She got out of bed after a few long seconds, leaving me there to berate myself for how stupid I was.
It wasn’t until I heard her leave the house completely that I went to sleep for real.
And slept deeply.
But only after I jacked off to the smell of her hair on my pillow.
CHAPTER 7
Dick-tim. (Noun): when you act like a dick, then play the victim.
Text from Haggard to Shine
HAGGARD
I was hard.
I’d been hard since she’d left my bed the night before.
“Do you think that’ll work?” Easton asked.
Easton was the newest ‘member’ of our MC.
Actually, he wasn’t really a member.
He was an ex-FBI agent who’s been using our club for his personal agenda.
A man that was pissed as hell about something other than my sister’s attacker getting a new lease on life after he gave up a few people in a much bigger operation.
Honestly, I was happy that the motherfucker had taken more people down with him. What I wasn’t happy about was that my sister’s terrorizer for a year was going to live the rest of his life with no recrimination for the atrocities he’d committed.
I wanted O’Ryan to burn.
Funny enough, so did Easton.
Easton who, might I add, was very adamant that he would get justice for my sister.
After much discussion, he explained why he would need to be in my motorcycle club to begin with.
Apparently, his last act as an FBI agent had been to work with a fellow LEO—law enforcement officer—to get O’Ryan placed exactly where he wanted him—i.e. our backyard. Now he just needed a reason to be down here, too. Oh, and hide in plain sight.
That was where my club came in.
“I think it’ll work.” I studied him. “But I want to know the real reason you’re doing this. You’re not going undercover in my club without telling me your real motives.”
Easton clammed up so fast that he might as well have confirmed my suspicions.
I leaned back into my desk chair, threw my dirty, greasy feet up on the edge of my desk, and stared at Easton while he came to a conclusion.
I waited for him to make the correct decision, because there was no way in hell I was bringing this up to my brothers unless they were in on the real reason Easton was here.
Easton sighed.
“O’Ryan has a sister.”
I waited patiently, and he continued.
“Her name is Banger.”
My brow rose. “Like, for real, her name is Banger?”
Easton nodded. “Banger. Given name. Banger Olivia Crest. Banger is the half sister. I’m not even sure that Banger knows that O’Ryan is her brother. What I do know is that when he needed payment to ‘buy’ Cannel, he used his sister. Sold her directly to the seller for Cannel. Banger went to this new guy, and Cannel went to O’Ryan.”
I felt my stomach sink. “Is Banger okay?”
“Funny enough, she didn’t realize that the man that took her was her buyer. She thought he was just a guy that ended up being her boyfriend. It was only a lot later that she realized that the guy that bought her wasn’t actually her boyfriend, but her controller. I’m not sure of much more than that, because Banger was smart and had skills that Cannel didn’t have to get away. She went to the first person she could find and he helped her. Lucky for her, that man ended up being MARSOC—Marine Special Operations Command—and knew what he was doing to get her out and safe. That man came to me, and I found one more nail to drill into O’Ryan’s coffin.”
“Okay.” I paused. “So why do you need into my motorcycle club?”
Easton looked out the window as his eyes narrowed. “O’Ryan got off scot-free. I don’t fucking like that. I like it even less that when I questioned it, I was demoted and assigned to a new unit that had nothing to do with the old stuff I’d been investigating. I looked around and found that the man I thought was a good man, a good boss, wasn’t. I’m doing this on my own dime. My own command. I’m… I quit the FBI six months ago when O’Ryan was given a new lease on life for the information he held.”