Page 20 of Kade

“Settle. You’re a year younger.”

“Still. Late thirties here. It makes a difference.”

Nate looked like he wanted to show Logan how there really wasn’t, but he just shook his head. He tried again. “Some of us don’t hunt people for a living or work as professional athletes, so maybe we can have a plan for how to operate in there?”

Despite this word of reason, there was dark excitement in Nate’s eyes. He was probably looking to cover his ass when questioned by his wife later on. Everyone here had children, except Matteo—that we knew of. I eyed Moose and Congo. I was sure they had kids. Both were married. I grimaced, thinking of their children. Little fucking Goliaths running around, snacking on rocks and hurling logs.

“I’m going to find my daughter and ground her ass. If anyone gets in my way, I have no problem taking heads from bodies.” With that, I stalked forward.

Logan began laughing. “There’s the brother I love.”

“All right then,” Channing said wryly. “Potential murder. Check that for the evening.”

“We might want to get some cops on our payroll.” Nate paused. “Are we into that sort of thing yet?”

“Seems like we are,” Matteo answered. “Mason gets intense when he gets to the home turf, huh?”

Nate sighed. “You have no idea.”

I stopped listening, moving into the open part of the warehouse where the fighting ring was located. As we drew near, three Red Demon guys blocked us, holding their hands in the air.

One spoke up, “Hey. Whoa. We don’t know you…” He trailed off, looking past my shoulder. A sneer of disgust came over his face. “Monroe, you know better. You and your friends aren’t welcome here. This is our territory.”

I glanced back to see Channing’s face darken with anger. Congo and Moose had stayed in the background, but now they pushed forward. The biker took them in, but his sneer didn’t fade. The other bikers closed in, and one motioned behind him. Five more headed our way.

What is this?I didn’t have patience for this shit. “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on, but my kid is here. Let us get her, and we’ll be out of here.” In the mood I was in, I didn’t give one shit that these guys were probably killers. Sign me the fuck up.

The guy in charge cocked his head to the side. “You look familiar. How do I know you?” His mood changed, an aggressive scowl crossing his face. “I don’t like feeling like I know someone without knowing how I know them. Makes me think you’re a snitch and that’s how I know you.” His eyebrows furrowed together. “You a fucking snitch?”

I matched him scowl for scowl. I didn’t know if I wanted him to recognize me. I wasn’t sure if that would make things better or worse, but another biker joined us. Tall. Built lean. He had long dark hair that hung down his back. His dark eyes flicked withinterest, flaring with recognition on Channing before moving over the rest of the group. He lingered on me. His eyebrows pulled together, just briefly before clearing.

“Go get Stripes,” he said. “Let him know some people he might know are here.”

“Boise, let us in. We’re just here for our kids,” Channing said.

The biker he had been talking to turned and pushed past the rest of their group.

Boise moved forward and gave Channing a cool look, shaking his head. “No can do, Monroe. Stripes is the guy in charge here.”

Channing’s eyes went flat. His nostrils flared. He did not like hearing that. “Is he in charge of the whole charter?”

Boise’s eyes grew glacial. “You’d be smart to remember the boundaries. You’re inourterritory here.”

Channing’s mouth twisted.

Shouting, cursing, and high-pitched laughter sounded from behind our circle as the fight continued in the ring. The people wanted blood. The thirst for it was in the air. It was damn near intoxicating. I knew it was affecting me. Logan too. He was eyeing the ring with a hunger I’d not witnessed in him for a long time.

“When are you going to need me?”Sam’s soft and knowing question came back to me.

Past patterns for us were mixing with our recent personal trauma. An old rage had awoken inside of me, and it was growing, turning into a fury that shouldn’t feel as comfortable as it did. Like an old friend that wasn’t good for me. I’d learned how to curb my anger growing up, but there was some new elements to this anger. There’d been too much change, too much loss.

I was done being a football player. That career forced me to keep myself in check. Marrying Sam and having kids helped reinforce my walls of control, but none of it seemed enough rightnow. I gritted my teeth as the urge to reach out, take one of the bikers’s heads in my hands, andpullincreased in me.

It wasn’t a feeling I wanted, but at the same time, I’d missed it too.

“Monroe,” a new voice said.

This must be Stripes. His men all stepped back.

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