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***Trigger Warning -- Drug References***

Marissa

Males are so easy to manipulate. I love the influence I have at the MC, especially when I can use my wiles to get into the heads of the brothers.

I’ve always relied on my looks to get what I want, but here, I can coerce these powerful males into giving me exactly what I need.

Right now, all I need is revenge on Paisley.

Sure, other females have come between me and males before, but Paisley has crossed a line by interfering with my relationship with Miles.

He’s off-limits to any female, especially one who thinks she can take him from me permanently.

Even with things the way they ended with Miles this last time, I know it’s never really over. He. Is. Mine.

Ironically, these tough brothers, who pride themselves on protecting the vulnerable, are also the perfect pawns in my plan. I’ve whispered my schemes into the ears of several of them. I’ve learned how to speak their language and use it to my advantage.

Any day now, I expect my plan to come to fruition, and I can almost taste the satisfaction. Sure, it’s all lies, but if it gets rid of Paisley, I don’t care to stretch the truth a little.

Lynsey

I’m a rarity in motorcycle clubs for two reasons: First, I’m part of the “brotherhood,” even though I’m a female. Second, I’m Drágon’s sister, which means I’m a dragon shifter, too.

They call me and my ol’ man, Que, the “relocation specialists.” Let me explain.

The club operates several successful, legitimate businesses under Talons they’re pretty incriminating. They show a young female exchanging a small baggie of white powder for cash. Not just one photo, but several, all involving teens.

“So, I’m assuming you want us to go pick up this female?

” I snap the last word. Nothing makes me angrier than someone targeting our young like this.

One of the reasons Drágon and I started this club was to stop the exploitation of the vulnerable.

We had a younger sister who was taken by traffickers, and by the time we found her, she’d been mentally broken.

Since then, we’ve dedicated our lives to caring for her and protecting those who are defenseless.

“Simple removal,” he says. “Bring her to the clubhouse basement, and the brothers will handle information gathering to shut down her operation. Since she seems to be a low-level player, it’ll probably just be a rough interrogation and then a relocation.”

“We’ll get right on that, Snake,” I growl. I take out my cell and text Que on my way out.

“Nathan, let’s go!” I call as I stride from Snake’s office toward my bike.

“See you later, girls.” Nathan jumps from Mel’s lap and follows me as fast as his little stubby legs will allow.

I suit Nathan up in his headgear and secure him in the carrier.

Then, mounting my bike, I secure the chinstrap of my helmet and head toward Que, who I know is now loading up the “cage”—that’s what we call our cars—so we can pick up this miscreant and bring her to justice.

Byte has already punched into the surveillance camera feeds at the Wind Howl Pack and is currently tracking the suspect, Paisley Woods.

Most of the packs now have all their pack members’ records and medical files digitized, so it’s incredibly easy to access her information.

By infiltrating the pack database, we discovered that Paisley meets with a mental health therapist, Dr. Robert Bishop.

Her next appointment is conveniently scheduled with him later this afternoon, and Dr. Bishop’s office is located on the boundaries of the pack property. It’ll be a simple operation for us.

As we head north along the Can-Am Supernatural Highway, we’ll turn west, passing between the Bloody Paws Pack and Little Silver Creek Pack lands.

After crossing the canal, we’ll reach the Wind Howl Pack.

Throughout the journey, Byte will have us under surveillance, shutting down the internet and cameras to prevent us from being tracked as we pass.

Thanks to his expertise, we’ve successfully completed numerous covert missions, and we’re grateful for the safety his skills provide.

The end goal here is to return safely with Ms. Paisley Woods so that she can pay for her misdeeds—courtesy of me.