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“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Thank you,” he said softly as he pulled away. Then over his shoulder to Eli as he jogged down the stairs. “Be good for Kenna.”

“I will,” Eli whispered and then nuzzled me.

I stood there for a long time, until the engine sounds faded and only a few of the guys remained, including Romeo and Roxy. I hadn’t been the only woman in the place since that night with the Desert Kings. But I walked through the clubhouse without an ounce of fear.

Because he’d called me his.

I belonged to Puck. None of them would touch me.

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Puck

We stood and surveyed the damage. The acrid scent of smoke and burned wire permeated everything.

The front half of the house was just a charred hull, but the fire department was close and had saved most of the back.

I’d never lost everything the like that, but the weight of it sat visibly heavy on Merc and AP’s shoulders.

I gripped the younger Merrick’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Said we can go in, get shit tomorrow. They’re going to keep an eye on it, make sure it doesn’t flare back up,” he spoke with that weight clinging to every word.

Translation, the cops were going to hang out and make sure no one came back to finish the job. We’d all expected retaliation, but not this quickly. Jerry Wayne was still as rash as he had been back in the day. Prison hadn’t taught him much.

“I reckon they know we jacked their shit.” Dekes picked at his teeth with a stick he’d broken off a bush, his gray hair popping out of the haphazard ponytail in frizzy pieces.

“Looks like it.” AP uttered with zero change in his blank facial expression. The man was a bitch to play poker with.

We all stood, the table plus Ivan and Gunnar, staring helplessly.

“Struck a nerve, that’s for damn sure.” Cam toed the murky water streaming down the driveway with his boot.

“Yup.” AP again.

“Merc, take my old apartment at the house. It’s yours until you’re done with it.”

AP and his son had lived here for as long as I had lived in Dry Valley. For a while, Dylan had too. I was glad they hit here, not at her place. The unspoken rule between outlaws were that the women and children stayed out of it. Families were off limits.

Even Jerry Wayne knew if he crossed that line, the MC would go nuclear. Then again, I hadn’t expected him to strike back this soon.

As if he read my mind, AP turned to Jester. “I’ll crash on my kid’s couch for a while. But, I want Dylan’s house locked down by tomorrow. If she bitches, I’ll handle it. Cameras, security, and I want you to keep an eye on all of it—personally. She doesn’t go anywhere alone.”

With a solemn shake of his head, he agreed. “I’ll get Crash to handle my other shit in the morning and I’ll take care of her personally.”

This was a message, not a full out assault. We’d rattled some cages, poked some bears, and they’d swung for the top of our pyramid. First thing the firefighters told AP was that an accelerant was dumped all inside the front of the house. Sounded like some half-assed shit Jerry Wayne would pull.

“Thanks.” AP sighed, ran a hand through his hair, then to Cam. “Get the families secured. Ole ladies don’t go anywhere on their own until this blows over. Ivan, can you spare some guys at least until the vote?”

The bald man unfolded from where he leaned against Merc’s full sized SUV in the driveway. “White Pines will give you whatever you need, brother. Me or Gunnar, doesn’t matter who makes the call.”

Because after the vote, Ivan was one of us, and White Pines became Gunnar’s. It wasn’t official, but as the founding charter, we were the ones who approved the tables of the others.

“Your kid too, especially since Jerry Wayne’s threatened you already.” AP glanced at me, his eyes hard.

Kenna and Eli were still at the clubhouse. I’d have her bring him home when I left here. I didn’t need AP’s warning to make me itchy to get back to them. That overwhelming need to protect what was mine, ensure they were safe, was damn near burning right through my cut.

And she was mine. I hadn’t said it yet. Hadn’t shown her, not really, for fear she’d run. But in a way, she’d been mine since I’d killed those fuckers in the desert.

I’d been afraid she wouldn’t want me, and that sort of rejection would turn me into someone I didn’t want to be. Admitting that to myself left me weak and a little shaky.

She wouldn’t run now, though, I’d make sure of it. Kenna Tate would be mine. All of her.

Cam stepped away to answer his phone, as Merc and Jester discussed their next teps This wouldn’t go without retaliation. Jerry Wayne had reacted rash now the cops were involved. Which was a bigger problem for him, than for us. But it gave us alternate angles.

Not that I cared right then. The more I thought about Kenna, the more amped I was to get the fuck out of here.

“All is quiet with the package. Ky is seeing to it personally. We will meet there tomorrow morning at nine, then back here to collect what we can.”

“Lock up the garage,” AP moved toward his bike with a stoic gate. “I’m going to the clubhouse, grabbing a bottle of whiskey, and drinking until I pass out.”

Couldn’t say I blamed him.

“Doesn’t sound like a half bad idea,” Dekes agreed, lighting a cigarette and throwing a bowed leg over his bike. “I’ll make sure my old lady is locked down and meet you there.”

“What you gonna do about yours?” Cam cut his eyes to me, smirking.

I’d made a statement having Kenna at family dinner. Trying to ease her into the idea, even though she’d blown into my world like a god-damned wrecking ball.

“I’m going sort that shit out tomorrow.”

“I’ve got some ideas, if you need any help.” Jester said with a half snort. “A third’s the charm.”

When I flicked an irritated glance at him, he grinned in that smarmy way of his. Reminding me that he’d had her first.

Fucker.

But I wasn’t mad. If not for that night, I wouldn’t have her now. But he’d never touch her again. No one would. All Mine.

That didn’t stop me from smacking the flat of my palm across the back of his helmet as he fired up his bike. I swear, I could hear his laugh over the roar of the engine.

Before I could turn to my own, Cam jerked his chin a little to the side, wordlessly asking me to stick around. I did, until only he, I, and Merc remained in the driveway. We’d done this before, months ago in a different driveway, to talk about shit that made my stomach sour.

When our president went rogue and everything turned to shit. And only the three of us could trust each other.

Merc passed me a blunt and I hit it, holding the green smoke until my lungs burned before exhaling. I had that feeling that I needed to knock the edge off whatever Cam was about to say.

“Burning down the old man’s house, knowing none of us were nearby, smells off to me.” Cam took a hit and passed it back to Merc.

“Nah, Jerry Wayne is the shoot first sort. This tracks.” I’d spent too much time keeping him away from Jessica. Did I have a hand in putting him in prison? Yeah. Was it something the club needed to know. No, not yet.

We did that for several seconds, smoking back and forth, the three of us. The Knuckleheads. They’d went to school with Jester, but I’d taken the oath the same day as the two of them. We’d patched in together. Sometimes it was hard to shake those bonds.

“Has Ghost said anything to Jester?” Merc asked me, knowing I’d have talked to Jester more than Cam. Pretty Boy was too busy with his new ole lady to rock with us like he used to.

“Not that I know of.”

“Out at Harlan’s place, we made a big ass statement.” Cam exhaled and gestured at the smoking husk of the front of AP’s house. “This ain’t big enough for payback.”

“No big runs for a few more weeks.” Merc rolled his neck, the bones making little popping noises. “And Jerry Wayne won’t make a play at the Ukrainians.”

“They’d obliterate the entire valley.” Cam added.

“Yup.” That would be ugly. We didn’t just play nice with the Soletsky’s because we liked them—I was genuinely fond of Ky—it was better to be their friend than an enemy.

“He’s still getting his footing,” Merc—the voice of reason. “This was personal, he’s still got a hard on for Dad.” Their history wasn’t something I knew much about, save for it had something to do with Jerry Wayne’s incarceration.

That reminded me that Jerry Wayne could lash out in other ways. I’d touch base with Whitney, make sure she stayed clear. She’d looked out for my kid since the day he was born, I’d look out for her. Especially when it came to that sick fucker.

“Keep everyone close.” Cam took a long drag off a cigarette, then grinned at me. “Even your ole lady.”

“I plan to, brother.” But first, a quick ride back to the clubhouse to collect what was mine.