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“We can take one of the trucks,” Jackhammer said.

Monster nodded. “We’ll take two vehicles. Me, you two, Drifter, Mayhem, and Riot.”

“That’s too many guys. You need more men here to guard the clubhouse since they know where to find us,” Ghost said.

“Not asking for your opinion or your permission,” Monster said.

Jackhammer knew better than to argue with their Prez, but Ghost seemed to forget biker etiquette. “Six men walking into another club's territory starts a war.”

Monster stared at him. “They stole a woman out of my clubhouse.” The room went silent. “War’s already started.” Jackhammer smiled grimly. That, right there, was the reason why he’d follow Monster to hell and back. Monster looked around the table. “Gear up.” Everyone moved as ordered.

Jackhammer caught Ghost before he reached the door. “Wait.”

“What?” Ghost asked.

“If Razor has her—” Hammer started.

Ghost shrugged. “Then he dies.”

“Agreed,” Hammer said.

Ghost's expression was terrifyingly calm again. “But we don't rush in shooting.”

“Why the fuck not?” Hammer asked.

“Because Angel could be in the middle of this mess,” he said. Ghost looked away, and Hammer could tell that thought terrified him.

Jackhammer lowered his voice. “You want her back?”

“You know I do,” Ghost growled.

“Then we need to do whatever it takes to get her the fuck back,” Hammer said.

Ghost's jaw worked, and finally, he nodded. “One condition.”

“What’s the condition?” Hammer asked.

“If I get Razor alone, don't stop me from tearing that son-of-a-bitch apart,” he said.

Jackhammer held out his hand, and Ghost clasped it. “Wasn't planning on stopping you.”

Three hours later, Jackhammer wanted to crawl out of his own skin. Monster drove the first SUV, and Ghost sat beside him. Jackhammer was in the back with Mayhem. Drifter and Riot followed in another vehicle. Nobody talked much, but that worked for him.

Mouse fed them directions through the speakers. The truck had disappeared from cameras forty minutes earlier, but its last known direction was enough for them to go on. They were heading to Raven's Hollow. Angel had been right—it was a small town. It was the kind of place where strangers were noticed immediately.

They stopped at an abandoned gas station ten miles outside town, and Monster killed the headlights. “Mouse?”

“Still here, Monster,” he said.

“You have anything new for us?” Monster asked.

“Maybe,” Mouse said.

Jackhammer leaned forward. “What does maybe mean?”

“It means shut the fuck up and let me work,” Mouse growled.

Ghost almost smiled. “I don’t think Mouse likes you very much, man,” he teased.