Page 1 of I Should Hate You-but I Don't

Prologue

Zane

––––––––

The handcuffs around Ridge Stafford's wrists kept him locked to the table. Zane glanced at his younger brother, Kingsley. After a year, they still hadn't gotten used to the idea that their dad would be in prison for fifteen years for felony assault with a deadly weapon.

"I need you boys to do something for me." Dad clasped his hands together, keeping his voice low. "There are two girls—sisters. I need you to find them, guard them, and make sure nothing happens to them. They're currently in foster care."

His skin prickled. Keeping his mouth shut, he wondered if his dad had a couple of kids out there that he and Kingsley hadn't heard about. It wasn't out of the question. Ever since their mom ran away before he turned five, his dad partied hard with the other Gem Haven Motorcycle Club members. There were always women around.

"How would we do that?" Kingsley ran his hand over his face. "Who are they?"

His dad's gaze swept the room before he continued. "The girls are Tom Pruitt's daughters. He's sitting on death row."

Zane leaned back in his chair and studied his dad. Ever since he was old enough to see the many sides of Ridge Stafford, he'd tried to figure out what went on in his dad's head. He'd watched him build, strengthen, and run the motorcycle club his whole life.

Yet, his latest request made no sense.

"Who are they to you?" he asked.

The last year has been hell. At nineteen years old, he had his hands full keeping the compound going. His dad not only left the MC floundering after his arrest, but the bar and campground also had to stay going to support everyone.

At the moment, there were seventy-five members of Gem Haven Motorcycle Club, twelve employees, and other clubs who were waiting for him to fuck up so they could steal it all from him.

Kingsley was a year younger than him and ran wild. There was nobody to rein him in. He partied every night at the clubhouse and rode recklessly without purpose.

"Let's just say without Tom Pruitt, I wouldn't be alive. You boys wouldn't have your old man." He lowered his voice. "Don't fuck this up. Protect those girls with your life and watch your back."

He looked down at the table. Without someone telling him what to do, how was he supposed to do that?

"You'll receive a letter with all the information you need to find the girls."

"If we find them, who do we give them to?" Kingsley frowned.

"Don't take them unless they're in a bad situation. Make sure they're happy and protected. That'll be your main job—"

"Job?" Zane scoffed. "I have a motorcycle club to run."

He never asked for all the responsibilities thrust at him. One more thing added to his already full schedule stressed him out. If he failed at one of the things his dad left him, he risked losing the club.

Not to mention, the members had a hard time taking orders from someone half their age. He'd had to pull his pistol more than once to gain power over the club.

"Give Big John more control over the men. He's your V.P., use him. Don't be afraid to hand over the work to the others. You're the leader now, son. Don't trust anyone."

He nodded. Without Big John, he would've lost half the members already. Some of them hadn't wanted to listen to akid. Without the experience to lead the men, he relied on the vice president to back him and the pistol at his side.

His dad had raised him and Kingsley around guns their whole life, letting them shoot and target practice on the mountain. His skill had kept reign over the members when the president got arrested.

If not for Big John stopping him from killing those who challenged him for control of the club, Gem Haven MC would be short a few members.

His dad's gaze intensified. "Find the girls and safeguard them. Whatever you do, don't let the girls know their dad is in prison."

"Where do they think he is?" he asked.

"Dead."

"Why wouldn't—?"

---