Standing there with the ruined barn still smoking behind us, I felt the full weight of what I’d just accepted. I hadn’t just fallen for the man who protected me. I was in love with the kind of man who would hunt Wade Kessler down and make sure he never threatened us again.
And I trusted both sides of him completely.
20
STRYKER
Early the following morning, Mara and Dot had Jacqueline settled at the clubhouse kitchen island with a blanket around her shoulders, a mug warming both hands, and enough food in front of her to supply a patrol shift. Smoke still clung faintly to her hair despite the shower she’d taken at the compound, and exhaustion shadowed the delicate skin beneath her eyes. But the minute Mara added another biscuit to her plate, Jacqueline gave the older woman the same sweet smile that had already conquered half the club. I stood behind her stool with my hand wrapped around her nape, listening to Dot explain that surviving an arson attempt qualified a woman for unlimited bacon.
“You’re supposed to eat too,” Jacqueline reminded me, tipping her head back until her braid brushed my wrist. Her gaze traveled over my face as though she could see every violent thought I’d been holding behind it since the barn burned, and the gentle concern there made me want to carry her straight to my room, lock the door, and spend the day proving with my mouth and hands that she was still alive. “Coffee isn’t breakfast, Brogan.”
“Got a meeting, baby.” I bent and pressed my mouth to her forehead, letting the kiss linger while her body softened beneath my hand. “Stay here with Mara and Dot until I’m finished.”
Dot set a bowl of fruit beside the plate already threatening to bury Jacqueline. “She’ll be fine with us.”
I brushed my thumb beneath Jacqueline’s ear and waited until she looked directly at me. “Wraith and Smoke are outside the kitchen, the compound’s locked down, and you don’t leave without me.”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “I remember the part where I’m never out of your reach.”
Her tone was teasing, but I heard the soft note of relief. Knowing she was always near would give us both comfort.
“Good girl.” The praise put warmth into her cheeks despite the old ladies sitting close enough to hear. “I’ll be back.”
Mara said something softly that had Jacqueline’s giggle following me into the hall. It was sweet despite everything Wade had done. It loosened a tight place beneath my ribs without touching the rage sitting below it. I carried both sensations into my office, where Hawkeye, Ghost, Judge, Cipher, Nomad, Zero, Bishop, Skyfall, and Ledger were already waiting around the conference table.
I shut the door, crossed behind my desk, and called Raines before taking my seat.
“We’ve got enough here to keep my evidence team busy for a week,” he reported. “Except the son of bitch responsible. One truck’s missing, along with three machines that arrived within the last month, and nobody left behind remembers where the boss went.”
“Any sign he knew the warrant was coming?” Judge asked, leaning one forearm against the conference table while Cipher worked over the laptop in front of him.
“Place wasn’t cleaned out well enough for that,” Raines replied. “He ran fast, not smart. And his employees are still pretending loyalty will keep them out of prison.”
“They’ll learn,” Ghost muttered, his expression remaining flat while he rotated a coffee mug between both palms.
I gave Cipher a look, and he nodded. His fingers flew over the keyboard, already searching the places that even Raines probably didn’t have access to.
The sheriff exhaled hard enough to rasp through the speaker. “You find him, call me before somebody decides a quarry counts as an unfortunate industrial accident.”
“No promises,” Hawkeye muttered.
“I’m serious,” Raines warned, though exhaustion took most of the authority from his tone. “I can put Wade away now if I get him breathing. Don’t make my job harder than it already is.”
“Then find him first,” I snarled, then ended the call before the sheriff tried to turn the conversation into an agreement I had no intention of making.
Cipher turned the laptop toward me. There were messages flowing across his screen from mechanics, tow operators, feed stores, auction contacts, ranchers, and construction crews throughout our territory. Wade had spent years believing those people were invisible because none of them wore badges, but the Black Crowns knew who kept cameras over towing yards, who remembered unfamiliar trucks at dawn, and who would answer a brother’s call before a deputy finished writing a request.
He pulled up a grainy traffic-camera image from one of our towing contacts. “Caught this Kessler Hauling truck heading east forty-three minutes ago. Tarped equipment on the trailer, and the escort truck belongs to an employee who disappeared before Raines arrived.”
Nomad traced the route across Bishop’s map and noted that it ended near the abandoned Kessler quarry, where Wade’sfather had once owned an equipment warehouse. The county had taken part of the property for back taxes, but the warehouse remained buried in an estate dispute. Empty on paper, as Judge put it, which was Wade’s favorite kind of empty.
I studied the quarry roads and rough country surrounding it. Wade was a local predator running through territory the Black Crowns knew better than he did, toward a hiding place tied to his own family.
“Confirm the sighting before we move,” I ordered. “Nobody spooks him. Wraith, Smoke, and Reaper stay with Jacqueline. The rest of us roll out when I say. Be ready.”
Hawkeye began coordinating vehicles, Ghost checked his weapon, and Nomad bent over the map with Zero and Falcon to plan the intercept. Every man understood what Wade had done, but I’d spent my career keeping my rage in check to lead without being careless with my brothers’ lives.
The confirmedsighting came shortly before five, when a feed-store owner east of town reported Wade’s truck pulling a loaded trailer toward the quarry with a gray pickup following close behind. I kissed Jacqueline hard enough to taste her through the first ten miles, her quiet promise to wait for me feeding both the possessive ache in my chest and the erection that had made throwing a leg over my bike briefly uncomfortable.
