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“I s this who I think it is?” he asks me.

“It is,” I tell him.

While he looks over the paperwork, I can’t help but take in his physique. He has always been in shape, but he’s a different beast now. His muscles have muscles. Add in all the tanned skin, and I can tell he spends a lot of time focusing on his body. Then, from shoulder to shoulder, his chest is covered in tattoos. On one side he has a roaring lion and on the other a Spartan helmet with hints of red. His reddish-brown hair is a little lighter than the last time I saw him, probably from spending time out in the sun, and he has a beard. A freaking beard that has hints of red running through it. He’s all grown up and only looking better than the last time I saw him.

Couldn’t the asshole have aged like shit?

I won’t lie, it was a gut punch to hear him reject me before I even asked for anything. I’m not here to try and date him. I know that ship has sailed, but knowing he also doesn’t want to date me hurts.

This is the man who was the center of my entire world for my entire childhood and teen years. It wasn’t until he left at eighteen that all of that changed.

I regret letting him leave and cutting off all contact. The first few months were the worst. When I would reach for the phone to call him knowing that he wasn’t there. He was off playing hero for all the wrong reasons.

Maybe if he had wanted to go because he wanted to serve his country or it was his passion, I could have supported him.

He only went because Colt went to Vegas and he didn’t want to be his uncle’s next heir. He was tired of the club life and thought he would find better elsewhere. I only wished he had seen that I would have been that better for him.

Looking at the scars on his back, I have a feeling he didn’t find what he was looking for.

I want to ask him what happened, but I bite my tongue. It’s none of my business, not anymore at least.

“I was shocked when I heard you were the president here,” I tell him.

“It was a shock for us all, but here I am. He has been missing for six days. Why are you bringing this to me? Why are you even involved?”

I clear my throat. “I’ve been working with Dad at the PI office. When Laura asked me to help her find him, I couldn’t say no.”

I know he hates Phillip. He always has. Or at least since he pushed me on that swing when we were seven years old. He had just moved here with his family and wanted to make friends.

Hayes has never played nice with others, though. Even the guys he hung out with back then, he would fight half the time.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be found,” he tells me.

“Or maybe he got mixed up with the wrong club and lost his life?” I give him a knowing look.

He grabs my arm, pulling me into an office on the side of the main room in the clubhouse. A few men linger about doing different tasks like painting and sweeping. They look at us oddly as Hayes slams the door shut behind us.

“You can’t go throwing accusations like that here. I’m president, but I’m still gaining their trust,” he spits at me.

“I didn’t accuse anyone of anything.” I fold my arms over my chest.

His eyes trail the movement of my breasts, making me wiggle a bit more.

He shakes his head, meeting my eyes again. “This isn’t like when we were kids. You can’t show up here and think you can use whatever it is you have to make me do what you want. There are rules I have to follow.”

“So much for being an outlaw biker. Isn’t this the whole reason you left?” I sass back.

“Do you fucking think I wanted to end up here? Uncle Rogue was murdered, Bailey. He’s dead. If I didn’t step forward, this whole place would be in shambles.”

“Colt could have taken care of it. It was his legacy anyway.”

He shakes his head, laughing. “You really know nothing, do you? This was never Colt’s legacy. Rogue sent him away so he could create something of his own in Vegas. This was always meant to be my legacy. Uncle Rogue made that very clear to me before I left.”

“Then why didn’t you stay?”

“Not this argument again.” He walks away from me, leaning against his desk. “I couldn’t be here anymore. I’m done fighting the same fights. Why do you think my club is involved in this?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I point to the folder. “Third page. He was in contact with someone named Kit. Seems he is a Lotus member. I hear he goes by the name of Happy.”

“Yeah, so they talked. A lot of rich pricks come to us looking for drugs or guns. Sometimes cars too. That doesn’t prove anything.”

“I want to talk to him,” I tell him.

“Absolutely not. Are you fucking insane?”

He is looking at me like I have two heads.

Maybe I do. I’ve gotten reckless in the years since I lost Lance. I loved him in my own way, but losing him didn’t hurt me the way losing Hayes did. Still, I’ve been so lost since he’s been gone. Like I’m no longer tied to this world.

So yeah, I might be insane. Still, I don’t want Laura to feel the pang of losing her brother that I have had to twice.

“I’m a PI. I can handle it. Now are you going to get him for me or do I have to do it myself?”

“You are not talking to any of my men. Jesus Christ, you have lost it, haven’t you? You used to be so scared of everything. I had to protect you from all the ghosts and goblins. Now you want to face someone with accusations that could get you killed. You have no protections here, Bails.”

“Oh, I am well aware I lost all my protection when you got on that bus headed to basic. You don’t have to remind me, Hayes. I’ve spent the last twelve years taking care of myself while you went off and did what you had to do. I was left behind. Forgotten…”

He shakes his head. “Not forgotten. I’ve thought about you every fucking day. Is that what you really believe? You told me that if I left, not to come back for you. I was respecting your wishes. Do you think I wanted to watch you get married? No. The day I got that, I nearly killed myself, but I didn’t. I kept going. Now you walk back into my life like everything is kosher, but it’s not, Bailey. I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger. I will handle this.”

“Not without me, you won’t. This is my case. My best friend. We will be handling this my way.”

He shakes his head. “You aren’t getting your way.”

“I will be one way or another, Hayes. Pick whether you want to help me or not.”

He is breathing as hard as I am as we argue back and forth.

After a moment, he nods once. “I will let you talk to him, but anything we find out, I will handle.”

“With me at your side.”

He looks so exasperated. Finally, he agrees.

“We keep it a secret, though. As far as everyone knows, you’re my childhood best friend I’m reconnecting with.”

“Deal.”

He mumbles something about regrets, but goes to the door and hollers, “Happy? I need to see you for a moment.”

I am going to regret this, but I need her out of my office. I doubt Happy even knows anything. Once she has her answers, she will move the hell on.

Then again, if she does, she will likely dive into this herself and get hurt. The thought of that doesn’t sit well with me.

So I call out to the guy. “Happy? I need to see you for a moment.”

Glancing back at Bailey, she looks so proud of herself. I hate it. Part of me likes her being happy, but the other part hates that she still has this power over me.

Not even an hour in her presence, and I’m already doing what she wants. It’s like we are kids again and she’s using that asshole Phillip to get me to push her on the swing.

It’s a fucking nightmare. Especially with my new position.

“Not a word.” I point at her as Happy approaches the door.

She nods and mimes zipping her lips.

“Yeah, boss?” Happy says, stepping into the office.

He is covered in paint, but I don’t comment on it. Bailey, on the other hand…

“Did you get any paint on the wall?” she asks Happy.

I want to growl, but I withhold it. Instead, I glare at her. She shrugs as if saying, “What can you do?”

I glance at Happy, wondering what he will say back. My guys aren’t used to being spoken to that way. If he disrespects her, I might have to do something I don’t want to do. Not with being a new leader and all.

Happy looks over at her, silent, before responding, “A bit, yeah.”

Then he flashes his smile at her, making her look away.

Fucker.

He knows what his smile does to people who aren’t aware of it. It’s a shocking view. If you look at him, you can’t really tell, but when he smiles, you can’t miss it.

Happy has two scars along his lips from something in his past. It’s why we named him Happy. I don’t like that he made her uncomfortable.

“Sit down, Happy.” He does as I ask, but then I realize he sits in the seat where he will need to sit next to Bailey.

“Bailey, take my seat,” I demand.

She looks like she is about to speak, but I give her a look. She wisely goes and sits in my chair, and I lean against the desk.

“How do you know Phillip Carrington?” I ask.

Happy laughs. “Phil? He’s a regular at the high-roller poker games we run. Good guy. Gets a little drunk sometimes, but is respectful. Why?”

He glances back at Bailey a moment before meeting my eyes once more.

“Seems he’s missing. His darling sister is looking for him. We don’t know anything about this, do we?” I ask him.

“Objection. You are totally leading the witness,” Bailey calls from behind me.

I shoot a glare over my shoulder, finding her tits pressed up by her arms once more.

“For fuck’s sake, Bails, put the girls away before I have to kill Happy here.”

I look over at Happy, but he wisely averts his eyes.

“You cannot contain breasts like this, Hayes. They just are. I’ve learned to embrace it. You should too. Besides, a man should never tell a woman what to do with her body.”

I want to groan. She is a fucking Texas tornado ready to tear through this clubhouse and take everyone with her.

Even as much as it annoys me, it also has my lip twitching as if it wants to smile. This is the girl I know and love. The same one who got me into countless fights with that smart mouth of hers.

“It’s Savage now. Don’t use my government name,” I bark at her. “Happy, do you know where the rich prick is?”

“No, sir, but I will look for him if you want. I know some of the guys he has come with him. Maybe they might know something?” He looks to Bailey as if he needs her permission.

“You do realize I’m your president, not her.”

Happy meets my eyes and nods. “I do, sir, but she’s got that whole black widow thing going on. You know the type, they look all sweet and innocent, and then bam! They kill you when you least expect it. I think I’d rather neither of you be mad at me.”

“Smart guy,” Bailey quips.

“Quiet in the fucking peanut gallery. Jesus fuck, Bails. We had a deal.”

“Happy here isn’t going to say a thing, are you, Haps?” she says, completely ignoring me.

He smiles at her again. “No ma’am.”

When I glance over at her this time, no discomfort shows on her face.

“Good boy. Run along now. I need to talk to your pres here a bit longer.”

He looks at me this time. Now he wants to show me the respect I deserve.

“Fucking go already. You heard the lady.”

He scurries off, leaving me with Bailey.

“What now?” she asks as Happy shuts the door behind him.

“Now we hope the prospect found your keys so you can get your ass out of my clubhouse. If Happy finds something, I will let you know.”

“You don’t even have my phone number,” she throws back at me.

I don’t look at her as I open the door. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, take my number.” She slips her hand into my pocket for my phone.

I groan when I realize what she is about to find out.

Taking the phone from her, I type in my code before handing it over.

As she types her number in, she looks confused. Then she clicks on her name.

There in her contact is a picture of her and me at seventeen. We look so happy with our faces pressed together. We were laying in the hay out at the old Henderson house. She had brought me lunch while I was bailing hay for him. I wish I had kissed her that day. Maybe things would be different now.

“How?” she whispers.

I hear the wonder in her voice. Like she’s hopeful that it means something. Truth is, it does. It means that even when she changed her number, I went out of my way to get her new one. I never once forgot about her.

I don’t want her to know that, though.

So instead, I do what I do best. I deflect.

“Not another word. Let’s go.” My tone is harsh, no room for argument.

With that, I march her ass out of my clubhouse and hopefully out of my life, because if there is one thing I know, it’s this.

I won’t survive Bailey’s cyclone again.