Page 90 of Kyle

Kyle—

Arriving at the clubhouse as darkness falls, I note all the changes in my life. I remember not too long ago, a time when I sat at the bar and watched my brother walk into this clubhouse with Sutton holding his hand.

Now it’s my bike she climbs off. My hand she holds. Me she walks in with. None of this escapes me. Nor does the fact of how lucky I am.

She walked into my life like a ray of sunshine. I let her slip through my fingers the first time. But I won’t ever let that happen again.

I tug her to my side and enter.

My brothers all turn, and Green starts clapping. “Look who came up for air. Nice of you to let her breathe, Kyle.”

I grin, but I don’t mind his ribbing. I’m too happy to complain.

“Can we get this damn meeting started now?” Cole growls, tossing back his drink and rising from his barstool.

Cupping Sutton’s neck, I press a kiss to her lips. “This shouldn’t take too long. Go wait with the other girls at the bar.”

She turns, and Melissa motions her over. “Come sit with us, Sutton.”

I follow my brothers down the hall, taking my place against the wall while the officers take the chairs.

Cole dispenses with the formalities, calling the meeting to order and going over some business. Apparently, Rafe hasn’t paid his dues.

He spreads his hands. “I’ll be a little late, but I’ll get it.”

Cole leans on his elbows. “I called this meeting because of Joselyn Silver.”

That perks up everyone in the room.

“I thought that got taken care of,” Shane asks.

Prez shakes his head. “She won’t quit. Daytona says she’s been to Vegas twice now.”

“Good thing we put that tracker on her Mercedes,” Crash mutters, dragging a hand down his face.

Red Dog leans forward. “There’s no way she can get to these guys, is there? I mean, from what Trick said,hecouldn’t get near them.”

“You gave her the money back.” TJ reminds his father.

“I did.”

“So, how’s it our problem?” Wolf asks.

“I’d like to prevent her from ending up face down in a reservoir,” Cole snaps.

My father lifts his palms in the air. “Fine. You got any ideas?”

“Maybe the FBI needs to have a chat with her,” Crash says, steepling his hands.

“The FBI?” Cole asks, leaning in his chair. “You got some personal connections I don’t know about, VP?”

Crash grins. “Maybe they’re not actual FBI. Maybe they justlooklike FBI. We could probably fool her.”

Cole laughs and lifts a hand around the room. “And which of these bearded, tattooed badasses you figure for that clean-cut job, dumbass?”

“I’m sure we could find someone to play the part.”

“Yeah, who?”

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