Page 38 of Shadow

“You can’t seriously believe that kid, Kansas,” Monk questioned.

“Yeah. I do. The kid doesn’t lie. He deals in facts and the fact of the matter is that there is someone out there wanting me to go down for murder.”

“But why?” Pence asked.

“That’s what I want to know.”

I knew where Kansas was going with this, and I didn’t like it. It was one thing to investigate an outside threat to a club, but to search within the club only brought division and death. Kansas was about to embark on a dangerous path and if he wasn’t careful, it could cost him his life.

I already had my reservations about a few of the officers, the main one being Monk. The brother was hiding something, and I fucking knew it. But the others were a mystery to me. I wasn’t a member. I didn’t really know these men or how they worked. What Kansas was about to ask of me was an impossible feat. There was no fucking way any of those men would ever talk to me.

Twirling the thumb drive in my hand, Kansas said, “On that thumb drive, you will learn what Jinx was really doing at the Diamond Bar that night. He wasn’t just there to meet with Ms. Trinity. It seems Jinx was investigating the massacre that happened at the club five years ago. I want to know why. I want you to find out why Jinx was investigating the massacre and if it has anything to do with the shit going on today.”

Montana leaned forward and looked me dead in the eye. “You bring my brother the real killer and I will ensure your brother lives. You walk away and I will let nature take its course.”

Well…shit.

The second I pulled out of the Diamondback compound, I felt as if a weight had lifted from my shoulders. I could finally breathe again. The thumb drive in my leather jacket was my only reminder of what I agreed to do.

I wasn’t lying when I told Kansas and his brother Montana that I’ve investigated nothing before. My job was to extract information any way I could. Which generally meant through a lot of pain and torture.

Pain was an easy motivator. I learned that a long time ago.

While I wasn’t thrilled about agreeing to help, a tiny part of me was justifiably happy if it turned out to be Monk, who I already suspected of being a fucking douchebag. How big of a douche he was remains to be seen. Then there were the other officers. Men I knew nothing about, only that they all had one thing in common.

They all survived the massacre.

Pulling into my sister’s drive, I spotted a brand-new red Lexus parked near the house with Arizona plates. Parking my bike off to the side, I saw Hope sitting on the front porch, staring at nothing. She looked as if she’d been crying, which instantly got my hackles up.

Getting off my bike, I walked over to her and whispered, “Hope? Everything okay?”

My sister turned to look at me and whispered, “Mom’s here.”

Those two words said it all.

Nodding, I walked up the steps, leaned over and kissed the top of her head before entering the house. The house was quiet. Too damn quiet. I could feel the tension in the air as it suffocated me. Making my way through the house, I spotted Charity sitting at the kitchen table looking at her hands. Walking over to her, I rubbed her shoulders. “Where is she?”

Charity sniffed. “In the greenhouse with Faith.”

“Go out front with Hope. I’ll take care of it.”

Charity got up, hugged me, then quickly fled the house as if her ass were on fire. I had just stepped onto the back deck when I heard Shirley screaming at Faith.

“How could you! You had no right to tell him!”

Balling my fist, I marched my ass into the greenhouse to find Faith cowering in the corner, tears streaming down her face as Shirley stood over her, berating her. There was no love lost between me and Shirley. She was Dad’s side piece. Even after Mom died, Dad never married her. He loved the ladies too much to be shackled to another. Oh, I knew in his own way Dad loved her, but I knew he would never marry her. He couldn’t. Shirley was once a club whore.

Once a whore.

Always a whore.

“Get away from my sister,” I growled.

Shirley Owens, the woman my dad left my mother for, whirled around and glared at me. The bitch hadn’t changed since the last time I saw her. Still drop dead gorgeous, just a few years older. Dressed in a tailored suit, it looked as if Shirley Owens had done well for herself. “And there he is. The executioner. Why are you even here, Ezekiel? Don’t you have someone to kill for your club?”

And it looked like she was still a bitch.

Growling, I said, “Shut up, Shirley, before you make this worse.”

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