Chapter 1: Chapter One

The warm summer sunrays sparkled like diamonds upon the calm lake. Dragonflies danced on the water’s edge, their iridescent wings patting the water’s surface. North stretched out his long legs and popped a cigarette between his lips. As he lit it, Givon nudged him with his foot, almost tipping him over.

“You’ve got to cut that shit out,” Givon told him. “You’ve been smoking for too long. You’re going to get lung cancer.”

“You know, you should’ve been born a woman,” North shot back. “You’d make a wonderful old lady. Nag, nag, nag.”

“I’ll nag my foot right up your ass.”

North grinned and dragged in a lungful of the bitter smoke. As he blew it out, he looked at the burning coffin nail and thought maybe Givon was right. His birthday was next week and he was turning the big four-O. There was going to come a time when he was going to have to reap what he sowed—and damn if he wanted to carry around an oxygen tank on his motorcycle. Besides, it wasn’t as if he liked the taste of cigarettes or the nasty morning breath they always gave him. It was just a habit he’d fallen into over the years of being a Red Wolf. Everyone smoked, so he did too.

But wasn’t that why he was trying to change the club? To not follow the same old path? One had to change to survive.

He flicked the cigarette into the pond.

“I quit,” he announced.

“You quit,” Givon echoed. “Just like that?”

North shrugged. “Quitting is just mind over matter.”

“I’ve always questioned you having a mind to begin with,” Givon replied sardonically. “But it’s nice to know I won’t have to haul you to chemo in your old age.”

North flipped him the finger and went back to watching his pole. They’d been out here for an hour with one fish to show between them. He’d wanted to do a fish fry tonight as they camped, but it was quickly looking like they may be roughing it with canned food.

“How’s the club?” Givon asked.

North shrugged. “Shaken. That whole mess with Axe really hit hard.”

“Who’s your current Sergeant at Arms?”

“I’ve got Skids wearing the patch and he seems competent enough.”

“But?”

“But Axe was a friend of his. Right now, he’s grieving. We all are. The betrayal of one of the pack cuts deep.”

“Do they know? About what really happened to Axe?”

North raised his eyebrows. “They suspect. But no one knows what really happened to Axe.”

“Don’t give me that shit, North. We know. And I’m pretty sure Merrie Walden knows, and if she knows, then so do Braden and Leo.”

“If they’re smart, they’ll keep it to themselves,” he said. “If word gets out Gray Dog offed Axe, the Red Stripes will want retaliation, even if he was defecting. And I don’t want retaliation for that piece of shit.” He gestured at the pond. “I’m also seriously hoping I don’t snag him on my hook.”

“Yeah, that would ruin this little camping trip.”

They fell silent again, trying to fish. It should have been a peaceful time of day but the lack of anything biting combined with club talk had North feeling restless and moody.

“Our coffers are hurting,” he admitted, breaking the silence. He wasn’t in a silent mood.

“You talking church business with me?”

Yeah, North knew he should shut up. Club business never left the chapel, but despite them being on opposite sides of the law, Givon had always been there for him, watching his back and making sure North didn’t screw up too much. He trusted Givon Halloran with every cell in his body.

“Yes,” he answered succinctly. “That newspaper article claiming Gray Dog was a hero has crippled our protection details. Less and less ranchers are asking us to ride with them.”

“Your shop not pulling enough in?”

North gave a humorless laugh. “No, Giv, the shop doesn’t give us what we need. I have got too many old men sitting around the Wolf table with more than a foot into retirement. Do you know what that means? They won’t pay dues, but I’m still obligated to pay for their 401K, and old people’s medicine costs a helluva lot.”

“So going legit is off the table?”

“Nah. Right now that’s still the long-term goal, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon with the Demon Devils camped out on our doorstep, taking our protection money.”

“You need help?” Givon asked quietly. “I’ve got money saved up.”

“Thanks, but not the kind of money I need. Besides, you give me enough help by not pissing on my boots.”

“The Red Wolves aren’t in my jurisdiction,” Givon reminded him. “And Destiny appreciates all your contributions to the community.”

That made North laugh. “If you really want to brown nose here, tell me that you’re investigating the Devils. Charge them with some type of criminal shit. It’s gotta be dope. I haven’t heard about gun running and there’s not too much else for a club to do to make some serious dough.”

“Get me some legit proof of illegal activities and I’ll haul their asses in,” Givon said. “Otherwise, I’m not starting a war with the Devils. We’ve been over this before.”

“Yeah,” North mumbled and reached for his pack of cigarettes.

Givon raised his eyebrows and gave him a pointed look.

With a sigh, North crumpled the pack, cigarettes and all and tossed them into the trash bag. “Fuck. I’ve picked a wrong time to give up smoking.”

Givon snorted. “I’ll give it a week—”

A scream rent the air, followed by the sound of a gunshot. They looked at each other for a split second before mindlessly dropping the fishing rods as they surged to their feet.

“You packing?” Givon asked grimly, reaching for his Smith and Wesson Sigma strapped onto his belt.

“Always,” North replied and pulled a sleek Glock 17 from the holster at his waist.

“It sounded like it came from over that ridge.” Givon pointed toward a high ridge about fifty yards away.

“Yeah,” North said. “You lead. I’ll follow.”

The two men hurried, keeping as low as possible as they ran. As they scrambled up the incline, Givon pointed for North to sweep around to the side. Givon counted down with his fingers then gave a thumbs-up. Both men popped up at the same time, guns drawn as they surveyed the area.

A woman lay face down, arms flung out wide as if she’d just fallen down. She wore only panties and a bra, the white lace contrasting sharply with her dusty skin. Blood pooled in her lower back before running off her hip onto the ground.

Movement came from the side of the tree line and Givon jumped up.

“Freeze!” he shouted. “Police!”

The shadowy figure immediately turned and began running hellbent through the brush. Givon swore and took off after the person while North rushed to the woman’s side. He quickly pulled his T-shirt over his head then pressed it against the bullet hole in her back while reaching for the pulse in her neck. He held his breath until a faint beat thumped against his fingers.

“Shit!” he muttered. “Hold on, sweetheart.”

He pulled out his cell phone but there wasn’t a signal. At that moment, he heard movement behind him and he half spun, holding up his gun. Givon burst through and threw his hands in the air.

“It’s me,” he said.

North lowered his Glock. “Did you get him?”

“No, jumped in his truck. But I got the plates,” Givon said as he rushed forward. “There’s also a shovel over there. Someone wanted to make sure she was never found.”

“She’s alive, but we need to get her to the hospital.”

North stood and stashed his gun into its holster. The two men managed to pick her up without too much jostling. He eyed the bruises along her jaw and cheek. He wanted to find the fucker who did this and pound him into the ground.

The truck lay on the opposite side of the clearing and both men hurried back the way they’d come, ignoring their camp and leaving everything behind. Givon crawled into the truck cab and helped guide her in while North maintained pressure against her wound. All he knew was that it wasn’t a through and through and she was still breathing. Givon scooted behind the wheel, jabbed his key in the ignition then gunned the engine. The wheels spun wildly before grabbing traction. The truck shot forward, careening down the narrow strip of road.

“Jesus Christ!” North muttered. “Can you not hit every rut out there?”

“The whole road is one big rut!”

It took them twenty minutes to get out of the pass and another ten to get onto a paved road. North stared down at the girl’s face, urging her to hold on. He couldn’t really make out her features, which were distorted not only by a big bruise on her cheek but also with mud. She was a tiny thing—probably five-three or five-four—and hardly weighed anything. Her dark hair held more brambles than a whole patch, filled with leaves, twigs and mud. He wished he could clean it for her but he had to keep pressure on the wound.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they reached the edge of town. Givon had already been speeding like a bat out of hell, but now he flipped on his grill lights and pressed even faster. He connected to his Bluetooth and speed-dialed his office.

“Sandy, get in touch with Destiny General and inform them I’m coming in with a wounded female, shot in the back. Might also have been sexually abused.”

“On it,” Sandy, the station’s manager and drill sergeant said in her no-nonsense voice. She was older than dirt and had been working there for a thousand years, but she ran the sheriff’s office so efficiently that Givon kept asking her not to retire. He hung up and pushed harder on the gas pedal.

“Is she still alive?” Givon asked.

“Yes.”

“Is she still bleeding?”

North threw him an exasperated glance. “Of course, she’s still fucking bleeding!”

He zigzagged through the hospital parking lot toward the ER entrance. When he slammed on the brakes, North was left with a nasty case of whiplash. His door opened and people in white coats and blue scrubs swarmed around him, taking the unconscious woman from his arms. He was left shirtless, covered in blood and strangely bereft as he watched them place her on a gurney to shuffle her inside.

“Shit,” he whispered. The girl better fucking make it.