Gunner-not sure what he was doing the whole time we were taking care of this mess for him-puts his gun to the kid on the ground and starts questioning him. Kid's in no condition to answer.

Mine is, and I give him a shake to get him talking.

"You punks lift these from someone?" Rock asks, gesturing at the downed Harleys.

"Yes! We picked them up outside the Green Room."

Holy fuck, that's Viper territory. What the fuck did we step in tonight?

"Are you two suicidal or plain stupid?" Rock asks. Damn good question.

Gunner moves like he's going to shoot them.

Rock halts him with a hand on his arm, lowering the weapon. "Not so fast."

"Grab some zip ties and a Sharpie," he tells Bricks.

Personally, I prefer to shoot them and dump them in the Hudson River. It's only an additional ten feet from the spot we drag them to.

We tie them to a tree and leave a message for the Vipers when they find them.

Whatever. "Should do," I say.

After Rock finishes with Gunner, he sends our crew on their way. One look at him and I see he's still lit up from the fight.

"Where you going, prez?" Our usual routine after something like this used to be hittin' up Crystal Ball, finding a couple dancers, and fucking the living daylights out of them.

Rock scowls at me. He doesn't even have to answer. I know exactly where he's going. "Hope's," he answers.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

"Tell her I said hi."

He flips me off.

Together we leave the park. At the exit, he stops close enough to tap his knuckles against mine. "Shiny side up, brother. You did fuckin' great tonight," he shouts over the combined rumble of our engines. Then he's gone.

I take the long way back to the clubhouse so I can replay everything that happened and see where I fucked up. What a bizarre night. Fuckin' 18th Street Boyz. Worthless punks. The club's been through so much bad shit together that the idea of being taken out by some young thug flashing around a gun he doesn't know how to use seems almost fitting.

Trinity's Jeep clears the gate ahead of me. Back from her date early I guess.

I hang back and ride up the driveway slow.

Suddenly, the events of the day sink into me, and I'm just bone-weary tired. Got no fight left in me. I back my bike into its spot and wait for Trinity to go inside first. She hasn't opened her car door yet. Maybe she's trying to wait me out? Tired of fucking around, I get off my bike and head inside. Behind me, the soft crunch of her smaller feet hurrying over the gravel makes me pause and hold the door open for her.

"Thanks," she says in a breathless rush.

Once we're both inside, I stop and give her a once-over. She's dressed in jeans and a plain T-shirt and carrying a backpack. Not sure what the fuck kind of date she's been on.

"Date over early?" I ask with a sneer.

Her startled, wide-eyed expression makes me feel like shit. "What?"

"You said you had a date tonight." I jerk my chin at her backpack. "Were you planning to spend the night?"

Her eyes gloss over with tears. Holy fuck. Why can't I learn to keep my mouth shut? "Shit, Trinity. I'm just messing with you," I say, reaching out to give her an awkward hug.

"I didn't have a date," she mutters.

Thank fuck.

This particular Saturday night, the clubhouse is quiet. Usually is nights we have a drop-off. Never know what'll go down, and brothers need to be alert and available-not drunk and elbow deep in pussy-in case shit goes bad. Sparky's waiting in the living room, and I flash him a thumbs-up sign. He grins and heads back downstairs.

"Where's everyone else?" Trinity asks.

"Rock took off for Hope's place."

Trinity smiles at that. "She's nice. I'm happy for prez."

I grunt because I'm not so sure about that chick and how good she's going to be for the club.

"Rest of the guys had the van, so I'm assuming they stopped to get dinner or something."

"You hungry?" she asks.

After the shitty way I acted this morning, I'm shocked she's even speaking to me, so I don't answer right away. I mean, she feeds me breakfast and stuff all the time. But she never offers. I show up in the dining room with everyone else, and she throws whatever she's made at me. Just as she does for all the guys.

"Sure."

I follow her down the hallway. "I gotta drop this in my room." I follow her to her door, but she only opens it only wide enough to set her bag inside.

"Anyone ever been in there besides you?" I tease.

"You know the answer to that."

Yes, I do. When we first moved out here, Rock made it abundantly clear none of us were ever to enter her room unless expressly invited by her.

Yes, that's exactly the way he put it.

Chuckling, I follow her to the dining room. It's late, so I'm not expecting her to cook for me or anything. Which is good, because she only sets out cereal and milk.

"Thanks, babe."

We eat in silence, but it's nice being together without all the extra hostility. Suddenly, I'm feeling anxious. When the guys return, all of this niceness between us will disappear. And I really don't want it to. I like being alone with her. This house is always full of people; it's easy for us to avoid each other. I can't ask her up to my room without her getting the wrong idea. She'll never invite me into her room. The war room has a couch and TV set up. Maybe I can talk her into watching a movie with me.

Excited about this plan, I clean up after us and hustle her out of the kitchen. "Wanna watch a movie?"

She gives me the strangest look. "Okay."

When she heads into the main room, I pull out my keys and open up the war room.

"I thought-"

"You're with me. It's fine."

Her eyes dart around the room, taking in the table where we hold church every week and anytime something urgent comes up that requires a vote.

"Which one is yours?" she asks.

I point it out. The chair at the right hand of the president's throne.

"Yeah." She nods absently.

Not sure why she's so solemn all of a sudden, I nudge her to the couch. She tosses me a curious look, like maybe I brought her in here for another reason.

"What are you in the mood for?" I ask with a nod at the television.

Her eyes flick to the screen as I flip it on and key into the on-demand screen.

"Something scary," she answers.

I'm definitely on board with that. From memory, I know she jumps at every little thing.

Maybe she'll jump right into my lap if I'm lucky.

Eight years ago For the third night in a row, I found myself at the Blue Fox Tavern, watching Trinity. All day, I'd told myself I wasn't showing up again. But there I was.

I was so fucked.

She kept glancing at me shyly all night.

Before Trinity, I'd never considered myself an ass man. The snug black jeans she had her perfect little heart-shaped butt stuffed into turned me into a believer. She kept bending over to get stuff from the lower shelves. Once or twice, she tossed a look over her shoulder and caught me staring. A blush stained her cheeks.

Tonight, she'd abandoned her trusty kicks in favor of a pair of fuck-me pumps. I really wanted to know who she was so dressed-up for.

If it was another guy, the possessive, ragey beast in me wouldn't handle it well.

The rest of our date at Fletcher Park had been perfect. After fucking ourselves into exhaustion, she'd fallen asleep in my arms. When the first tendrils of daybreak curled into the sky, I nudged her awake and helped her dress. We watched the sun come up together, the awed expression on her face no match for a simple sunrise. We hurried back to my bike and took off before park security caught wind of us.

I'd planned to drop her off at her apartment, but she invited me inside. For some reason, I couldn't say no to this chick and hated being away from her. We slept until noon, when I got a call from Rock demanding I get my ass to Crystal Ball.

I sent her a text to explain, but maybe she was annoyed to wake up and find me gone again.

Why did I care so damn much?

As I watched her work, I admired the way she'd pulled all her beautiful golden hair into a high ponytail, displaying her neck. I didn't think she realized she had a faint hickey on the left side. My mark.

Suddenly, I was rock hard and didn't dare move from the bar. I prayed it was another early night for her.

When things slowed down, she made her way to my end of the bar. "Hey, handsome."

My lips twitched. "Hey, gorgeous. You done soon?"

"Maybe. Why? You got plans for me?"

I risked a glance into her honey eyes. "Depends. Who you all dressed up for tonight?" Fuck. I didn't mean for her to hear all that jealous come out of me.

Her head tipped down to inspect her outfit, and she looked back up at me, eyebrows drawn in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

My shoulders lifted in a careless shrug. "You look really pretty."

She blinked twice, then beamed at me. At least I finally said something useful. "I'm done at ten. If Storm gets her butt here on time."

I wish I knew where Storm lived 'cause I'd haul her ass in here at 9:59.

Storm was only five minutes late, but it was five too many for my brain. As soon as Trin stepped out from behind the bar, I grabbed her hand and pulled her outside.

"What do you have planned?" she asked.

What a loaded question. I wanted to sprint to her apartment and fuck the living hell out of her. She'd probably be fine with that, but for some reason I couldn't identify, I wanted more.

"We can catch the second movie at the Jericho," I suggested.

"The drive-in? I've never been."

I cocked my head at her. "How can you live in Empire and not go?"

She shrugged. "Never had anyone I wanted to go with before."

"Wanna go with me?" Was I really asking like some high school fuckwad?

The corners of her mouth tilted up in a soft smile. "Yeah, I do."

The drive there was cool, and I was happy I remembered to pack a blanket. The guy in the ticket booth recognized me and waved us in. We timed it just right to hit intermission, so I pulled us up sort of close but all the way to the left side of the field where it looked like we'd have a good view of the big, white screen and a little privacy.

Just in case.

I almost fell out of my heels when Wrath walked into the bar for the third night in a row. As soon as he spotted me, his hardened touch-me-and-I'll-kill-you glare lit up in a smile. Not some cocky throwaway smirk, either. No, he flashed me a genuine smile, as if he were pleased to see me.

For the third night in a row.

I didn't know what to make of it.

For an arrogant, sexy-as-sin biker, Wrath seemed to have one hell of a romantic streak. Or maybe I just didn't know the difference.

The fact that he knew he had an all-access pass to get in my panties but still wanted to take me out? It woke something up in me I'd sworn had died a long time ago.

He slowed the bike and tucked us into a nice, dark spot where we still had a good view of the screen. I jumped off and almost snapped one of my heels in the soft grass.