Page 106 of Deserter

Iran my knuckles along my jawline and looked over the map again with a sigh. This was bad… really fuckin’ bad.

Bear leaned over the desk and circled an area with his finger. “Outlaws took back the north.” His finger moved down. “Calaveras are moving in from the south. Just a matter of time before the other clubs join them.”

I was glad that Wolverine was downstairs and not here to rub it in that he’d told me so.

One, or all, of the strippers had talked, just as he predicted they would. I should’ve known—girls like that were only loyal to the things that filled their pussies, bank accounts, or veins.

The syndicate was gone—twenty-four months of peace destroyed the momentThe Ranchburned to the ground withLos Dictadoresinside.

“That’s not all,” Bear continued grimly. “That fire put us back on the radar with the feds and word around town is that they’re asking a lot of questions about the club.”

I picked up a pen near the map and began turning it over in my hand. “Fuck. Who else knows this?”

“For now? Me, but you can’t shove this shit under a rug and expect it to go away. I’ve been ridin’ with you for years now, Grey, but this is the worst shit I’ve seen. The clubs that left the syndicate are banding together under the Outlaws and we’re enemy number one in their eyes.”

“You think they’ll go after families?” He had just as much to lose as I did, even if the fucker was still in denial. He swore there was nothing going on, but I knew better.

Hell, I’d been the same way with Celia.

Bear moved Molly into an actual house not long after the attack. He’d taken her to every doctor’s appointment and was by her side the day Enrique Fernando Williams came into the world.

When I asked Molly why she’d chosen such a godawful name for her kid, she’d proudly exclaimed that he was named after Lucy’s son onI Love Lucy.

Thank the saints the kid was adorable because with a name like that, he was going to need all the help he could get.

The map taunted me, reminding me of my early days leading the club when nowhere was safe. “Beast get wind of this?”

Bear frowned. “Not that I’m aware of—why?”

I tapped my pen along the paper cities, letting it trace along state lines. Lines that no longer meant shit. “Wants out of his patch, says he was young and stupid when he joined. That strike you as odd?”

“What are you doing out here, kid?” someone yelled from outside and I jumped up.

“Was that Pete?” Bear asked, keeping a hand on his holster as we moved downstairs.

Pete was our newest prospect and voted most likely to send someone to meet the Reaper without asking questions first.

“Did he say kid?” I responded as I took the stairs two at a time.

Wolverine had his gun trained on someone at the front door and I stumbled to a stop when I realized who it was.

My son.

Bastard knew it too.

Things had gone to shit between us, and I knew a confrontation was coming, but I had done my best to avoid it.

Comedian stepped forward and said what I couldn’t. “You gonna step away from my boy or do you need some help, Wolverine?”

He kept his eyes on mine as he holstered his gun and backed away from Mikey.

“I told you to wait outside—” Comedian started and I damn near lost it. My kid wasn’t a stowaway; his idiot of an old man had just decided that the club was the perfect setting for a little father-son bonding.

“Jesus Christ, Comedian—you brought the kid here?” I snarled, before remembering where I was and who I was with.

Mikey straightened in front of me. “I’m a man now.”

He may have turned eleven today but was nowhere close to being a man. Comedian had been out on a run, but in typical Betsy fashion, she hadn’t planned a goddamn thing.

---