Page 45 of Her Possessive Bikers

"How bad?"

"Garage is a total loss." He gestures to the blackened ruins. "Main structure's salvageable, but it'll need work. Upper floor took heavy smoke damage, some fire damage near the master bedroom. Foundation's solid though."

"Mother fuckers," I mumble.

"Found something else you should see," the chief adds, leading me away from Indy. He pulls out his phone, showing mephotos of crude spray paint on the basement wall. "Looks fresh, probably done right before they set the fire."

The message makes my blood boil: "NEXT TIME IT'S NOT JUST THE HOUSE."

"We'll need copies of those photos," I tell him, keeping my voice level. "For insurance purposes."

He nods, understanding passing between us. "Of course. I'll email them over."

I pull out my phone, dialing Jacoby while keeping my eyes on the fire crew working. "Put her on," I say the moment he answers.

A rustling sound, then her voice comes through, thick with tears. "Tres?"

My chest tightens at the pain in that single word. "Listen, darlin'. The garage is gone, but the house itself can be saved. Foundation's solid, mainly smoke damage upstairs and the master bedroom." I run a hand through my hair, pacing away from the chief. "We'll get it fixed up, make it better than before."

"The photos... I hope they're okay, they were in the living room…" Her voice cracks. "All his things in the garage..."

"Hey now, remember what your old man always said about material things?" I keep my tone gentle, though my free hand clenches at my side. "It's the memories that matter. And those bastards can't burn those."

A shaky breath. "You're right. I just... that house was all I had left of him."

"Not all." I watch another crew member emerge from the house carrying a partially charred box. "You've got us. His family. And we're gonna make this right."

"Promise?"

The vulnerability in her voice makes my jaw clench. "On my life, Indiana'. On my life."

I end the call, nodding to Tank who's waiting by his bike. Time to remind these fuckers why you don't mess with family.

The roar of our bikes echoes off the walls of the Dos Banditos compound as we roll up. I grip the Louisville Slugger tighter, letting the weight of it ground me. My knuckles go white around the handle.

"Look what the cat dragged in," their VP, Antonio sneers from behind the gate. "Come to cry about a little house fire?"

I swing the bat, connecting with their security light. Glass rains down as sparks fly. "That 'little fire' just bought you a war."

"You threatening us, old man?"

"Nah." I smash the second light, plunging their entrance into darkness. "Just making things even. Dark times ahead and all that shit."

Jacoby steps up beside me, his usual playful demeanor replaced with cold steel. "Boss, they're gathering inside."

"Good." I press against the gate, metal creaking under my weight. "Listen up you worthless fucks. You crossed a line going after Brick's kid. His house? That's sacred ground."

Lupe emerges, flanked by muscle. "Brick's dead. His territory's up for grabs."

"That's her goddamn house," I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "This isn't about territory anymore. You threatened his daughter. My family."

"What you gonna do about it?"

I toss the bat aside, stepping closer to the gate. "War. Plain and simple. You wanted to play rough?" I lock eyes with their president. "Game on. Sleep tight, boys. Never know when we might come knocking."

Back at our bikes, I nod to Tank. "Split up. Two-man teams. I want eyes on every exit of this shithole all night."

"What about you, boss?"

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