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Yesterday, I’d gotten word that Forrest was talking about raiding the garage. I’d spent the day at the garage reviewing our books and the premises, ensuring that nothing from our previous gun-running business was still on the property. We were clean, but there was something in Rome’s voice that made my dragon suspicious. I trusted my crew—I didn’t trust Forrestor the Lakeview police. Forrest still had a grudge against me, and I didn’t know how far he’d go to put me back in prison.

“Yeah, me too,” Rome said. “I need to take a look at last night’s cameras, because something is fishy. Unless you want Forrest to bust inside and do his illegal search, you better get herenow.”

“I’m on my way.”I ended the call, then opened the door a crack and peered back inside. Harley was still fast asleep, her chestnut hair sprawled out over the pillow like a halo, and her cheeks a little flushed. The sheets were pulled up right to her shoulders, and I took a moment to admire the curve of her waist and hip beneath them. As much as I wanted to wake her up with a kiss and another roll in the sheets, I didn’t have time to spare. So, with a sigh, I closed the door and sent her a text.

Work called.I’ll be back later today.

I hated leaving her like this, but at least I knew she’d be safe. I knocked on Striker’s door, then Tank’s, making sure they were both awake and not too hungover to defend the clubhouse if necessary.

“We got this,” Striker promised as he trudged behind the bar to start the coffee. “I’d rather be on enforcer duty than Forrest duty. You go handle him.”

Seemed like I was getting attacked from all angles. First this Sean bullshit, and now Forrest and his lackeys were on my ass again.

Before he died, my old man had told me that being the clan alpha wouldn’t be easy, but I never expected it to bethiscomplicated. I hadn’t even had time to take a look at all the damage done to my beloved old Cadillac.

I hopped on my motorcycle and gunned it to the garage. Just as Rome had said, there were two patrol cars parked outside, as well as Forrest’s black, unmarked SUV.

All the doors to the garage bays were closed, so the police couldn’t even see inside. The glass doors were shut and locked too, and the big neon OPEN sign was off. Rome and the other garage employees were standing outside on the oil-stained asphalt. Rome had his coveralls tied around his waist, and his white T-shirt was still clean. They hadn’t even started the day’s work before Forrest came knocking. Great. Not only would this be a massive inconvenience, it would also put us behind schedule with our repairs.

“Officer!” I barked as I strode up to the front doors. “What can we help you with?”

Forrest whirled on me, his eyes bloodshot with anger. “You tell your boys here to open these doors, Ace.”

“Sure, I can do that,” I said with a smile, “as soon as you show me a warrant for the search.”

“The Lakeview police department received an anonymous tip that you’re stashing drugs on the premises,” Forrest said coolly. “It’s my responsibility as the sheriff of this town to keep our civilians safe—and that includes stoppingyourdrug trafficking before it begins.”

“Well, first of all, there’s no drug trafficking,” I said. “Second of all, you can do all thatafteryou get a warrant. We’re running a clean business here, but that doesn’t mean you can just come in and search whenever you want. We’ve got a right to privacy, you know.” Whatever “anonymous tip” Forrest had received was bullshit. We got out of the drug-running business after I was locked up, and we had only ever run weapons through the garage. Whoever tipped him off didn’t know what they were talking about, which made me think there was never a tip in the first place.

“You listen to me, Ace, you bastard?—”

“No, you listen tome,” I snarled, taking a step closer to Forrest. He took a tiny, instinctive step back, and his handtwitched like he was thinking about reaching for his gun. Good. He was scared. “You think just because you’ve got a badge you can come up here, harass my guys, and interrupt our work day? You can search my shop when you have a goddamn warrant. I know how the law works.”

“You’ll regret that,” Forrest said. “I’ll get my warrant, and you’ll get caught for your trafficking crimes, and then some. And I’ll be the one to throw you back in prison where you belong.”

“Jesus, Forrest.” I shook my head. “You know as well as I do there’s not a lick of criminal activity happening here. You think that coming here and waving your gun around makes you look tough? You’re wasting my time, and these fine officers’ time.”

The two young policemen behind Forrest glanced at each other awkwardly.

“You need to get over the past and whatever high-school grudge you’re holding against me. Take your job seriously, man.” I shook my head in exasperation and disappointment, which I knew would only piss him off more. “You know better than to show up without a warrant. That’s rookie behavior.”

“Watch your mouth, Ace,” Forrest said, flushing red with anger. “This isn’t over.”

“Sure, sure,” I said with a wave. “You guys have a good rest of your day.”

The two junior officers looked at each other again, then got back into their cruisers. Forrest spat at my feet—the picture of maturity—then climbed into his SUV and slammed the door shut. I followed the cars on foot as they drove off the premises, then slid the metal gate closed behind them.

“We’re closed today, boys,” I said. “Rome’s right. There’s something fishy about all of this.”

“Let’s run another search,” Rome said.

“Again?” the employees groaned.

“Yep,” I said. “There’s gotta be something we missed.”

“Or something that wasn’t here yesterday,” Rome said. “I’ll check the cameras.”

We started the search, combing through the garage top-to-bottom. Rome was in the main office, scouring the security footage. After fifteen minutes, he stuck his head out of the office door upstairs. “Yo, Ace! Got something.”