Page 111 of Cold Hard Truth

“Cheers.” Kane holds his glass up but doesn’t wait for me to down it.

He might have let me live, but I’m not stupid enough to think that’s the end of it.

“I trusted you.” Kane slides his empty glass across the bar top, and it stops at the bumper.

There’s no use trying to explain myself. I fucked his daughter. And even if I’ll never regret it, he’s not going to forgive and forget.

“Un-fucking-believable. I’d expect this shit from the guys around here. But you, Sage? You’re supposed to be smarter than that.” He tips his head back and lets out an unamused laugh. “Not fucking funny, Hawk.”

I don’t know what this has to do with my dad, but when Kane opens his eyes and turns to me, it’s like he’s let a hint of his anger go.

“Your father…” Kane scratches his jaw and shakes his head. “Your fucking father.”

“What about him?”

“He used to give me so much shit about you and Lyla, and it used to piss me off. He said he saw you two coming from a mile away, but I just thought he was messing with me. He was always trying to pull one over, and I wanted to think that was another way he was doing it. Remember his fucking pranks?”

“Yeah.”

And it makes me miss the clubhouse only for the fact that my dad still exists here—in photos, in stories. People still remember that he used to fuck with everyone and try to get under their skin because he was the jokester. And it was worse with Kane because he loved nothing more than trying to irritate his best friend.

They were practically brothers.

As much as it fucked me up that Dad died when he did, I know I’m not the only one. A touch of sadness stains Kane’s smile, and it’s a flicker of emotion that’s rare from him.

“Why couldn’t he just be wrong for once?” Kane slams another shot when Paula hands it to him.

“Dad was never wrong.” I spin my empty shot glass around, watching the last splash of liquid slosh around in the bottom.

“Ain’t that the fucking truth.” Kane buries his forehead in his hands and stares down at the bar top, and for the first time since everything started happening, it’s like he’s actually feeling it. “Just because I didn’t feed you a bullet doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”

“Didn’t think so.”

And I don’t care.

I’d have died for Lyla if he saw fit. But if he’s going to give me this shot, I’m going to take it, along with whatever consequences he enforces.

There’s no putting to rest how I feel about her a second time.

She’s it.

“Good,” Kane says, glancing over his shoulder at a few of the guys getting rowdy across the room. “Because I’ve got bigger problems to worry about right now than you and her. They aren’t just after Lyla, they’re after the fucking club, and she’s collateral.”

She’s not just collateral, she’s everything. The club can go up in flames for all I care. Nothing can burn the rot he lets fester in this place anyway.

But I keep my mouth shut because I can’t protect her if I’m six feet under.

“Yeah, seems like it.” I tap the bar, looking around.

A few guys pass glances in our direction, and it’s impossible to tell who’s on what side. That shouldn’t even be a question in an MC. Things have slipped so far downhill since Dad died.

“I could really use more guys around here that have my back through thick and thin.” Kane turns in his stool, pulling his salt and pepper hair back off his forehead. “Whether I like it or not, you’re one of them.”

“You know I’m not getting back into this shit.”

“Because of my daughter?” Kane’s jaw clenches.

“Yes and no.” I turn to face him, looking over his shoulder at the photos on the wall that captured better days. “All I wanted growing up was to patch in. To live and die a Twisted King. I’d have prospected at eighteen if I was given the chance. Probably younger if the club allowed it. But my dad made me fucking wait.”

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