Page 101 of Ruger's Rage

"Bailey," I mutter, rage building in my chest. "Fucking clubwhore's been selling us out."

Bloodhound nods grimly. "Looks that way."

"Round up everyone at the club. Church in one hour." I glance at Porter, still hovering protectively over Sarah. "Tell Porter to stay with his ol' lady. We'll catch him up later."

We all head back to the club—or what's left of it.

The main gate hangs off its hinges. Windows are shattered. Bullet holes peppering the walls.

It looks like a damn war happened here, because it did.

Brothers move through the wreckage with grim faces, assessing damage, collecting shell casings, trying to get started on cleaning up.

Normally, I’d make the prospects clean shit up, but this isn’t just the prospects job right now—the entire club will pitch in, because that’s what family does.

Kinsey follows Tildie closely, uncertain of her place in this chaos.

Her eyes track every movement, almost as if she’s making notes of the destruction her father helped orchestrate.

"Your father's work," I tell her when our eyes meet. "You still think this is all my fault?"

She shakes her head slowly. "I saw him for what he really is the moment he hit me. Even saw what he's capable of more tonight."

I study her face—Callahan eyes, but none of Striker's cruelty in them. At least not yet.

"We need to talk about what happens next," I tell her. "Church in an hour. You should be there."

Surprise flashes across her face. "I thought church was members only."

"Circumstances change. You helped save my aunt, helped protect Coin's kids. That counts for something."

I leave her to process that, following Bloodhound toward the clubhouse main room where Bailey sits surrounded by brothers, trying like hell to keep her face stoic, but I can see the fear in her eyes.

She sees me and straightens, chin lifting. "Ruger, thank God. These assholes won't let me?—"

I slap her hard enough that she reels back, eyes wide with shock.

"Don't say another fuckin’ word," I growl, leaning into her space. "Not one word until church."

To her credit, she doesn't cry.

Just presses her hand to her reddening cheek, hatred burning in her gaze.

She has to know what I fucking know.

Maddox appears at my side. "Found her trying to leave when we got back. Had a bag packed and everything."

I look right into her deceptive eyes. "Going to meet Striker?"

He nods. "That'd be my guess."

"Put her in the storage room. Post a guard." I straighten, scanning the room. "Where's Rookie?"

"Supply run. We're low on ammo after tonight. Ounce went with him."

I turn to Bloodhound. "Get everyone here. Every patched member, every prospect. Aunt Ellie too."

"What about the Vultures?"

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