Page 101 of Silver Fox Daddies

I think earlier today was the first time Bishop actually made some sense with what he was saying. It’s true—you don’t realize how much you care and love a person until they’ve been taken from you.

The thing about Jax and Reaper Sons is that they’ve always kept to themselves. Even before Bishop poisoned hundreds of their members, they never intervened with us. What have they been doing for all of these years, if not messing with other clubs?

All I know is that they were selling fentanyl. That’s something Grizzly would never allow us to do. Each club has their own set of rules and boundaries, things they’re comfortable with, but I never thought a group of men would set the bar that low, taking advantage of people’s addictions and profiting from them.

If they can do that, I dread to think what else they’re capable of doing.

We enter the neighborhood, and Cash takes the lead, raising his hand as we near the street. We park in front of the house next door, planning to sneak in.

My blood thickens. I’m scared, though I never thought I would admit it. We’re not just dealing with strangers anymore. Melissa’s life is at stake.

That makes things complicated for all of us, especially since Grizzly hasn’t even permitted us to ride out here. This is against our codes of conduct. We could lose our badges.

To save Melissa, it’s all worth it.

Crickets chirp. We walk silent through the night, careful not to reveal ourselves.

Cash keeps his head down, looking at his phone. “It’s this one,” he whispers, pointing.

I look up and crack my knuckles, preparing to fight.

22

BISHOP

It makes our life easier that the front door is unlocked, but I sense it will all go downhill from here.

We file inside and look at one another, concerned at how quiet the place is. I reach for the gun at my holster, making sure it’s fully loaded. Cash keeps his gun pressed up against his chest, tight hands wrapped around it.

“The basement,” he whispers, gesturing with his head to the door over in the corner.

It doesn’t look inviting, but I suppose Jax designed it that way to keep Melissa from looking. We start toward it, booted feet moving slow against the laminate flooring. We pass the office on the way, so I peer in. It’s empty, of course. She didn’t listen to Diesel.

“We should have called backup,” I whisper, the nerves starting to twist my intestines.

“What, and have the others know where we are? We can’t let this get back to Grizzly,” Diesel says.

“Seems like things still find a way to his ears, regardless of how many people know,” Cash says, eyes busy watching the door as we advance closer. It’s been shut, but there’s a key inside.

Cash takes it out, inspecting it.

“What are you doing? We don’t have time to admire the cut of a key.”

Cash turns his eyes to me. “Why has it been left in the door?” He inserts it back into the hole, the lock catching as it clicks to unlock. Turning back to us, he flashes us a perplexed face. “He wants us to come and save her.”

“If he wanted that, he would have dropped a pin with the text message,” I huff.

“No. He’s playing us. He wants us to think we’re one step ahead. That we outsmarted him.” Cash shakes his head, his pale skin illuminated in the white overhead light that’s been left on in the hallway. “He’s the prez of Reaper Sons. Has been for god knows how many years. He’s played this game before.”

“Just not with his daughter,” I side-note.

I receive a punch to the gut from Diesel. “Shut it.”

He’s upset about this. Doesn’t want to think about it more than he needs to. I watch Diesel’s face change. For once in his life, he’s not stoic and unphased by the trials and tribulations of life.

You know it’s bad when the composed one looks like he’s on the verge of crumbling.

“Okay. We ready?” After receiving a nod from Diesel and me, Cash pushes open the door, careful not to make too much noise. The hinges could do with some oiling, but I sense Jax prefersit when they’re rusty—it alerts him when somebody’s stepping inside.