Those words keep echoing in my mind, and I can’t stop them from repeating over and over.

I want to go home.

I want to go home.

RHYDER

We stand at the meeting point awaiting the El Pasos wearing the Sinners’ cuts. This place is secluded, off-road, and down a dirt track. There is nothing but darkness surrounding us past our bikes. Without the light of our bikes and van, there would be nothing but black.

We rode into LA not that long ago, not having time to rest. We kept riding until we reached the meeting point the El Pasos gave Tate. Not that I wanted to rest, I couldn’t anyway, not with the anticipation and apprehension I’m feeling. I look around at all the men—Blood Brothers mixed with the Sinners. Tate stands ahead of us, and Prez and I stand behind. Tracker is ready and waiting in the van while Hawke and some of the other boys blend in with the Sinners.

My heart is thumping as I wait in hopes that Lexi is in this delivery. I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s not. I have to find her, not being able to do anything but think about her and what I’m going to do to the asshole who kidnapped her.

The rumble of motorcycles sounds in the distance, and I quickly stand to attention, adrenaline now running through my veins. My gun is placed behind my back and tucked into my jeans, ready to use at any moment. Headlights shine ahead, and I look at Prez who’s face is telling me to keep calm. I promised him I wouldn’t do anything that could possibly jeopardize our club and the Sinners, and that’s why I need to keep my anger in full check.

I blow out a breath, and with my eyes focused on the men ahead, I stand patiently as one by one, they get off their bikes, and two vans park to the side.

“Hey, Ombre,” the leader says, giving Tate a shake and a pat on the back. Tate does the same while I look at the rest of the El Pasos who are all wearing red bandanas.

Tate turns to us, saying, “These are my boys.”

The leader nods.

“Brothers, this is the President of the El Pasos, Angel.”

I nod my head in a simple hello, and Quill steps in and shakes his hand. Angel asks Tate to walk with him, and they step off toward the vans deep in conversation.

What the fuck is he saying?

I should be with Tate.

They reach the van, and Angel grabs a piece of paper and hands it to Tate. He reads its contents then looks at me.

Fuck, it’s probably the girls’ names.

I see Tate scan the paper for a while, then he slowly looks up at me again, his body slumps in what looks like disappointment.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck.

But then something changes, and he looks back at me with hope because there’s the smallest of smiles on his face.

They continue to have their conversation, and then Tate leaves Angel and walks back to us, his face now giving away nothing.

I want to yell, is she fucking there?But I hold back, remembering the promise I made to Quill.

Tate starts talking, “Okay, the plan is… the truck will be here any minute. Angel has asked us to take some girls and deliver them to this address.” He pulls out the piece of paper which I snatch away from him. “Chill, man.”

At this stage, I can’t fucking chill, All I can do is focus on what’s on the piece of paper that appears like a manifest. Scanning over the printed document, I notice there are no names, only numbers.

I quickly turn to him. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” I ask, shoving the piece of paper against Tate’s chest.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ blow it, brother,” Tate says is a low voice.

“Is there a problem?” Angel asks, stepping forward.

Tate plants a fake smile, and I clear my throat realizing how close I am to fucking up this whole operation.

“No, problem, Angel. My brother here is tired and wants the job over with.” Angel stares at me for what seems like ages. He’s assessing me and has one of those glares that you don’t want to mess with. Shaved head with a tattoo on his cheek, I can’t quite make out what it is in the dark, but it looks like a cobra. Scrutinizing eyes stare at mine, and he senses something’s up.