Page 72 of Property of Spike

Foster exhales sharply. “I won’t know for sure until I get into Skip’s system, but I’m guessing it was records from your last three runs. Skip left himself notes about contacting the dealers and upping the price due to increased risk.”

Skip storms back over, his face flushed with fury, shoving the laptop into Foster’s hands. “That two-timing, son-of-a-bitch, dead motherfucker,” Skip growls. “Find out if he did anything else. He erased my records on three weapons scrubbings and changed the name of the Fentanyl buyer. He’s covering his tracks. There’s no doubt in my mind that he and Billy have been working together.”

Spike’s expression darkens, his voice dropping to something lethal. “Billy was pissed when I told him he couldn’t sell that shit here.”

Foster’s fingers fly across the keyboard. “Then I’d say we just found his motive.”

Max didn’t just betray the club. He sold us out.

Chapter Twenty

Spike

My chest aches under the weight of betrayal. Max has been part of this family for fifteen years. Long before I became President. Back then, the Iron Shadows were nothing but a no-name club, barely taken seriously. The President at the time didn’t really give a shit what happened to his club or his men.

I spent years turning us into the feared name we are now, and through all of that, Max was right by my side.

For the past day, I’ve been trying to figure out why the hell he’d do this. He has no family alive, so blackmail doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t have money problems. My officers get paid well, on top of whatever cut they take from the club businesses they run.

Max has been in charge of our tattoo shop since we opened it, and I know for a fact he makes damn good money from it, even after the club takes its twenty percent.

So what the fuck is going on?

“He could have taken Asher,” Tank reminds me.

“There was no reason to,” Bones counters. “Max isn’t working with Chuck. He’s got his own agenda.”

“Any luck at Iron and Ink’s?” I ask.

“Nope,” Knuckles says. “Maverick’s checking out Max’s house now, but I doubt we’ll find anything useful.”

A knot tightens in my gut. Max didn’t just walk away from us out of the blue. He planned this.

“I hate to do this, Prez,” Bones says. “But I need to lock down the compound until we sweep it for bugs. There’s no telling what Max’s play is, and I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Alright,” I sigh. “But keep the other three chapters running. There’s a charity run tomorrow for the hospital’s new rehab clinic. We’re sponsoring it. I need at least thirty men on bikes representing us. Knuckles, since you’re Road Captain, I want you outside the compound leading it.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll take Abby, Riley, and Asher into the bunker beneath my house until the compound is clear,” I continue. “It’s not safe to take them outside these walls until Chuck is out of the picture.”

Even if Max or anyone else planted a bug and is listening in, there’s no way in hell they can access my bunker. Not without my eyes, my hand, and my fucking code.

“Uh, Prez, your sister is not gonna handle being in that bunker,” Tank reminds me. “She’ll flip the fuck out.”

Shit. He’s right.

“How long will you need?” I ask Bones.

“A day,” he says. “Two at the most.”

“Damn it. I can’t sedate her for that long.”

“I’ll be fine, Bubby,” Abby’s voice comes from the door.

I turn to find her standing there, looking hesitant but determined.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to listen in,” she continues. “I just wanted to let you know that Riley’s ex is on the phone.”

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