Page 31 of I Should Hate You-but I Don't

"I'm going to keep you company for a little bit." Kingsley breathed as if he moved around a lot. "What should we talk about?"

Ever since she and Kenna were separated within the foster system, Zane visited her every few months, and Kingsley visited her sister. Except Kenna graduated last year, and Kingsley lost track of her.

Her sister was now eighteen years old, and River worried about how she lived independently and whether she had a job to support herself. The same thing would happen to River next year on her birthday, and the thought of going through life alone struck fear in her.

"Tell me what my sister talked about last time you saw her," she whispered.

"She talked about you. I told her where you were living, but then they moved you to a new home." Kingsley exhaled as if he were smoking a cigarette. "She gave me that sketchbook to give you—"

"I still have it," she blurted.

It was the only thing she had that belonged to her sister. She kept it in her backpack, hidden in a pair of sweatpants.

"Do you still look for her?" she asked.

"Every day," he whispered. "One day, I'll find her for you."

The tears she'd shed had weakened her. She closed her eyes and propped her head in her hand.

Zane and Kinglsey Stafford were the best people. Sometimes, she imagined her dad in heaven sending two angels down to look after her and Kenna.

But Zane and Kingsley weren't angels.

They were bikers.

Chapter Thirteen

Zane

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On the ridge of Devil's Bowl, Zane peered through binoculars, viewing the side of the mountain and the valley below. He wanted to see where the new spot of smoke was coming from.

"About fifteen degrees left and a hair down from that cropping of rocks on the side of the mountain. The smoke was spiraling through the trees when I first spotted it." Snake spit on the ground. "Even with the dirt bike, it took me half an hour to return to the clubhouse."

The fire was at a location even forest firefighters couldn't reach. They'd have to send crews out to hike to the location and create a fire line.

"I'll ride back and call it in." He handed the binoculars to Snake. "It's too damn early to blame this on electric storms."

"How long would it take the fire to burn its way to Gem Haven?" Snake peered out at the land.

"Even if it goes uncontrolled, the fire won't reach us. There's two rivers and the gravel creek bottom it'd have to jump." He straddled the dirt bike he'd taken to ride up the mountain. "What bothers me is if the arsonist tries again. Will he get closer? If he does, we won't stand a chance."

"Why the fuck would someone set fire to the mountain?" muttered Snake.

He'd asked that question to himself many times. There were people who wanted Gem Haven gone. They feared having a group of bikers where they couldn't watch them. They werealmost untouchable by law enforcement. If the group was trying to chase them out, it would take more than a fire.

Gem Haven belonged to his father. He'd built everything on the compound. He'd created a livelihood for every member. They were protected here to live their life the way they wanted without constraints.

"I'll send a couple of riders to relieve you until we hear how the sheriff plans to fight the fire." He flipped the kickstart and revved the motor.

Standing on the footpegs, he navigated the rocky ground until he reached the trail. The campground was closer to him than the clubhouse, and he could use the landline to call the sheriff's office.

The front wheel hit a rut, jarring the handlebars. Both arms vibrated. It'd been months since he'd had time to take the bikes out for a ride—something he and Kingsley grew up doing. The mountains were their playground, and it was there that they learned that the mountains held secrets.

Once they patched in under their father, even the weather predicted trouble.

If it wasn't another motorcycle club trying to poach their territory or lowlifes trying to make a name for themselves going up against the club, it was someone trying to set their world on fire.

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