Page 1 of Renegade

Prologue

Present Day

The rain fell steadily around us and a brisk wind cut through my heavy wool coat. The cold seeped into my pores, chilling me to the bone. I glanced up at the small crowd gathered around me, but no one else seemed to be affected by the storm.

Lightning streaked across the gray sky, quickly followed by a loud clap of thunder. Kate, Grey’s oldest daughter, jumped in fright. Her husband, Nate, pulled her closer into his body as if shielding her from the reality of it all.

I shifted my gaze from the look of devastation on Kate’s face and over to her younger sister, Dakota. Instead of devastation, Dakota’s jaw was set in a hard line, her eyes murderous.

I’d failed them both.

Their father was dead.

Grey.

Gunned down in an empty parking lot after leaving Dakota’s wedding. My tip off came about ten minutes too late. My eyes began to cloud, but I clenched my teeth together until it passed. It was stupid, me coming here. I was a detective with the Lubbock Police Department and he ran an outlaw motorcycle club, for Christ’s sake.

It didn’t make a damn bit of sense, yet here I was, getting soaked in a freezing rain while searching for answers.

“For as much as it has pleased Almighty God to take out of this world the soul of James Quinn, we therefore commit his body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, looking for that blessed hope when the Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God, and the dead in Christ shall rise first. Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so shall we ever be with the Lord, wherefore comfort ye one another with these words.” Father Frazier performed the committal, raising his voice to be heard over the storm.

Dakota’s husband, Zane, looked up and caught my eye. He scanned the small crowd before returning to me. I gave him a small nod in return; our mission unspoken, but clear. Like me, Zane was a cop. He’d worked undercover for a while, but since becoming a family man, I’d seen him around the station a lot more.

Nobody wanted to be UC when they had people waiting on them at home. Sure, when you’re a grunt, the lifestyle looks appealing. It sure as hell beat sitting on the side of the road with a speed gun in your hand. After being in it for a few years though, that desk job started to look like a safer bet.

So, maybe Zane and I weren’t here in an official capacity, but that didn’t mean that we weren’t working. Someone here knew more than they were letting on. I’d have bet my paycheck on it. I studied the reactions of the crowd of mourners, pushing my personal feelings aside. I had to keep it together and focus on my mission. A facial tic, scratching at an invisible itch—hell, even tilting the head a certain way could be a sign of guilt.

Most of the time, the suspect wasn’t even aware of it.

And if anyone here was going to find the man responsible for Grey’s death, it was going to be me.

Who better to take down an outlaw than a man who was raised by them?

Chapter One

1993, Age 11

“Michael!” The voice rang out and I immediately shrank down, trying to make myself even smaller. I knew she meant well, but there was no way I was going down there.

Hearing heavy footsteps on the stairs, I slid under my bed and up against the wall, cursing myself for not running away like I’d planned. It was stuffy in my room; the window unit had been on the fritz for the last week and sweat began to trickle down my back.

The motorcycle boots appeared in the doorway and I held my breath in fear. It was him. He’d beat me good when he found out that I was hiding from him. He stepped into the room and closed the door quietly behind him, leaving me confused. He didn’t do anything quietly.

The boots moved around to the side of my bed, each step sending small tremors of fear through my spine. He’d warned me about hiding from him.

“Face me like a man, Junior. I ain’t raising no pussy!”

The boots disappeared and a face appeared. It wasn’t him—I let out a loud exhale of relief before scrambling out from under the bed and into his arms, nearly knocking him over in the process.

“I got you, Mikey. It’s alright.” Grey patted my sweaty head and then tightened his grip around my small body. I liked him a lot. He always kept my dad in line when he was around. Mama said it was because he was the boss in Dad’s club and that no one in their right mind would go against him.

I straightened up in his arms. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to hide from you.” Just because I liked him didn’t mean that he didn’t scare the crap out of me. The man was a giant and when he looked at me, it was like he could see into my head and read my mind.

Grey released me and moved over to sit on the bed. “I understand that someone has a birthday today—is that right?”

I nodded. “Yes sir.”

He cracked a small smile. “Call me Grey, kid. Now, why don’t you open this up and tell me what you think.”

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