ASHES & PAIN
Chapter 17
MARKED
April sunlight baked the Dryden fairgrounds hard enough to make the dirt shimmer.
Dust hung low over the parking field, kicked up by pickup trucks, horse trailers, kids running where they weren’t supposed to. The air smelled like hay, barbecue smoke, beer, manure, and cotton candy.
Over the loudspeakers, Boot Scootin’ Boogie. came alive.
Near the vendor tents, Kyle tore across the grass with a pinwheel in one hand and powdered sugar on his chin.
“Kyle Westfall,” Loraine called after him, holding his hat in one hand and a lemonade in the other. “You keep running like that, you’re gonna eat dirt.”
Kyle laughed and kept going.
Loraine sighed, but she was smiling when she followed him.
Kait watched them from the fence line, one boot hooked on the bottom rail, sunglasses low on her nose.
Kolton stood beside her, arms folded over his kutte, eyes flicking between his son and the arena.
“He’s gonna fall,” Kait said.
Kolton took a sip from his beer. “Really hard.”
Kyle cut around a man carrying nachos, nearly took out a little girl with a balloon, then spun back toward Loraine like the whole fairground belonged to him.
Kait glanced at Kolton. “Father of the year.”
Kolton shrugged. “He’s learning balance.”
“He’s learning your survival method.”
“Still alive, ain’t I?”
Kait opened her mouth to answer but Kolton kissed her and shut her up.
Kait looked at his black cowboy hat.
“I like that hat. Maybe I can borrow it later?”
“For what?”
Kait raised a quick eyebrow.
“Can we go now?”
Kait laughed.
The announcer’s voice cracked over the speakers, talking up the next event, and the crowd around the arena shifted with a new kind of attention.
Blaze was somewhere behind the chutes.
That was why they were all here.
Not for the beer. Not for the music.
Blaze…
And business.
Randy stood near the gate with Don, they were watching the stock pens.
Randy had his thumbs hooked in his belt, hat low, looking more like he belonged there than any of them. Don stood beside him in a black shirt and his kutte, calm as ever, eyes moving over everything.
Not just the arena.
Everything.
The trucks.
The exits.
The men leaning against trailers.
The hands exchanging folded bills near the concession stand.
“You gamble, I’ll put two in your head,” Don said to Randy.
“Yeah, right. With as long as it’s taking me to pay off my fuck up. I don’t think so.”
“Just letting you know.”
“I’m almost done, though. Thanks to our Mondragón business.”
Don smirked.
“What did I tell ya?”A man in a blue Houston Livestock Show cap passed behind the bleachers once, then again. This time he didn’t keep walking. He stopped near the shade beneath the stands and looked toward Don.
Don didn’t move right away.
He waited until Randy said something that made him smile faintly, then tapped Kolton once on the arm.
Kolton pushed off the fence.
“There’s our guy.”
He leaned close enough that nobody else would hear. “Let me get this done so we can go home already.”
“What are you talking about? We gotta watch Blaze.”
“Do we though?”
“Of course.”
Kolton groaned and walked off after Don.
Kait watched them cross behind the bleachers, casual, unhurried, like they were only getting out of the sun.
The man in the blue cap disappeared into the shade.
So did another one, broader through the shoulders, with a silver belt buckle and boots too clean for the fairgrounds.
Kait stayed where she was.
She didn’t follow.
Not her deal.
Not yet.
Amber stepped up beside her, chewing on a piece of pink cotton candy. “You see Blaze? Can’t find him.”
“No. He’s probably getting ready to come out.”
“He’s been kinda quiet.”
“Yeah?”
Amber nodded. “Like he’s bored lately. Has he said anything about me?”
Kait looked over. “No. Not that I’ve heard.”
“Yeah. Hey, would you talk to him for me?”
“Oh, no… that’s between you two.”
The crowd suddenly lifted in volume.
Behind the chutes, Blaze came into view.
The joking thinned out.
Even Ram shut up.
Blaze wore his vest over a long-sleeve shirt, hat pulled low, gloves in one hand. No grin. Just his game face.
He looked different here.
Still Blaze.
But focused.
Grounded.
He stepped onto the lower rail of the chute and looked over the bull beneath him like he was reading weather. The animal slammed once against the metal, muscle rolling under hide, rope swinging loose.
Randy’s jaw tightened.
Don was still gone.
Kolton too.
Kait kept her eyes on Blaze.
Blaze lowered himself down.
The bull moved under him, hard and angry, and the chute men closed in. One handed him the rope. Blaze wrapped it once, twice, flexed his fingers, then settled his free hand against his thigh.
The announcer’s voice rose.
Heartland’s chorus on the speakers.
The fairground noise narrowed.
Loraine came back with Kyle pressed against her hip now, one arm locked around him to keep him still. His little hat sat crooked on his head.
“Is Uncle Kowboy gonna win?” Kyle asked.
Kait didn’t look away from the chute.
“Hell yeah,” she said.
Ram leaned forward. “Don’t say that out loud. You’ll jinx him.”
Kait glanced at him.
Ram crossed himself.
At the chute, Blaze nodded once.
The gate flew open.
The bull exploded into the arena.
For a second, there was only dust, muscle, and motion.
Blaze snapped back hard, then forward, his free arm cutting the air as the bull kicked, twisted, and tried to throw him into next week. The crowd surged to its feet.
Krait didn’t cheer.
Not yet.
They watched.
Four seconds.
The bull spun left.
Blaze stayed with him.
Five.
The animal dropped low, kicked high, and Blaze’s hat flew off into the dirt.
Six.
Ram’s hand clamped around the fence rail.
Seven.
Kait held her breath without meaning to.
Eight.
The horn blew.
The Krait side of the fence erupted.
Ram yelled loud enough to startle the woman standing in front of him. Sunshine jumped once, laughing despite herself. Kyle screamed like he had personally won the rodeo.
Blaze let go and hit the dirt running.
The bullfighter moved in fast, drawing the animal away, and Blaze cleared the fence with one hand on the rail like he’d been born doing it.
Only then did he grin.
Wide.
Bright.
Almost boyish.
Randy slapped the fence so hard it rattled. “That’s my boy.”
Kait smiled before she could stop herself.
For a few seconds, it was just that.
Noise.
Dust.
Sun.
Blaze laughing while the announcer shouted his score.
Kyle yelling his name.
Ram claiming he had never doubted him.
Krait looking, for once, like a family that had come out to watch one of their own ride a bull instead of men who moved drugs, guns, and blood through South Texas.
Then Don came back from beneath the bleachers.
Kolton walked half a step behind him.
Neither of them looked rushed.
Neither of them looked worried.
Don’s eyes found Randy first, then Blaze, then the scoreboard.
He smiled.
Just a little.
Kolton returned to the fence by Kait, he hugged her from behind.
“Well?” Kait asked.
Kolton watched Blaze tip his hat to the crowd.
“All set.”
Then he looked at the board. “Nice score.”
Kait turned her head slowly.
Across the fairgrounds, the man in the Houston cap was already walking toward the parking field with his friend beside him.
Another deal done.
The club had not stopped working.
Not even on rodeo weekend.
the nest
The sun had long disappeared behind the mesquite trees by the time the celebration spilled across the Nest.
Stranglehold drifted from the old speakers, empty beer bottles already littered the picnic tables, and the smell of charcoal mixed with fresh-cut grass and gasoline from the bikes lined up outside.
For once…
Nobody had somewhere else to be.
Blaze’s silver championship buckle had already made three laps around the party.
Every member wanted to hold it.
Every member had another version of how the ride looked.
“You damn near kissed that bull,” Klik laughed.
Blaze accepted another beer. “I won, didn’t I?”
“Barely.”
“Scoreboard says otherwise.”
Kode picked up the buckle, turning it over in his hands like it was made of gold.
“I’ve never actually held one.”
Blaze plucked it back before he could drop it.
Kloud grinned as he exhaled his cigarette smoke. “He’s gonna sleep wearing that thing.”
“Damn right I am.”
“No, you’re not,” said the blonde she had picked up at the rodeo.
Laughter rolled through the courtyard.
Even Don chuckled into his beer.
It had been almost a year since Blaze got thrown twenty feet in the air at this same tournament, leaving the arena with cracked ribs, a concussion, and a bruised ego. He’d spent weeks pretending he wasn’t hurt, months pretending he wasn’t angry, and nearly a year waiting for another chance.
Tonight, nobody was talking about last year.
Only the buckle.
Only the win.
Kyle raced circles around the picnic tables with Josh and Alan chasing him until Loraine threatened every one of them with a spatula.
The new girls, Mandy and Toni were already moving like pros. Mandy was Daylate’s girl and Toni was an old friend of Tracy’s.
Near the church steps, Don stood with Randy, beers in hand, talking quietly while they watched the party unfold.
For the first time in months…
Nobody was discussing shootings.
Or warehouses.
Or retaliation.
Money was finally coming in.
The Arizona runs had become routine.
The Houston buyers had shaken hands that afternoon.
Snake Eyes was busier than ever.
Business was good.
No one cared about the drive-by from last year.
Krait was growing.
Don watched his family spread across the yard.
There was laughter, food, music. Patched members mingling with prospects, wives, girlfriends, and children…
He allowed himself the smallest smile.
Moments like these were why he’d built the club in the first place.
Blaze tossed back the last of his beer.
The blonde buckle bunny whispered something in his ear.
He smirked.
Without a word to anyone, he hooked a thumb toward the back rooms.
She giggled.
Ram groaned loud enough for everyone to hear.
“You ain’t even gonna finish dinner.”
Blaze looked over his shoulder.
“Priorities.”
Blaze draped an arm around the girl’s shoulders as they disappeared into one of the rooms downstairs.
Ram watched them go.
“I respect that.”
Kait shook her head, smiling despite herself, before lifting her beer to her lips.
Beside her, Kolton quietly reached for her hand.
She let him take it.
His fingers laced through hers with an ease that had become second nature over the past few months.
“You wanna go upstairs?” he asked.
Kait looked back at Kolton.
“Is the room still empty?”
“Yeah, no one has claimed it since you moved out.”
“Okay.”
A crooked smile spread across his face.
He squeezed her hand once before leading her upstairs.
Neither of them announced they were leaving.
Nobody cared.
At the Nest, people disappeared into the rooms all the time.
Ram caught a glimpse of them anyway.
He nudged Mack with his elbow.
“Twenty bucks on who lasts longer.”
Mack put his hand out. “Alright. I say Prince.”
“Shit, alright, but he’s got Kait… you really think he’s gonna last long?”
Kode chimed it. “Well, they have both been drinking heavily. Kowboy is with someone he doesn’t know so he may want to impress her. Kolton and Kait are familiar with each other but I mean…
It’s Toast… imagine…” He looked toward the stairs.
“I wouldn’t last two seconds,” Ram said.
“I’d probably last three. You’re on.”
They shook on it and Kode made it official.
The music downstairs faded as they climbed the steps.
Kolton pushed open his bedroom door and let Kait walk in first before closing it behind them.
The muffled bass from the party drifted through the floorboards.
Someone downstairs whooped loud enough to make them both laugh.
Kolton set his beer on the dresser.
“So…”
He stepped closer.
“…you gonna congratulate me?”
Kait raised an eyebrow.
“Congratulate you?”
“I negotiated half the Houston deal.”
“Oh.”
She nodded thoughtfully.
“Well, good job.”
His hands settled against her hips.
“…I think I deserve more than that.”
Kait took his hat off and put it on.
Kolton smiled at her.
“You’re so fucking hot.”
Kait slipped her arms around his neck.
“Well, what do you want?”
“You, to ride me with that hat on.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I can do that.”
“I know you can, baby.”
He kissed her before she could answer.
She kissed him back just as naturally, her fingers slipping into the hair at the back of his neck.
Another kiss.
Longer this time.
His hands slid from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her closer so she could feel he was more than ready for her.
His back found the mattress.
And Kait climbed on him still dressed.
They didn’t need to rush.
The laughter downstairs became nothing more than distant noise.
Kolton finally pulled back just enough to catch his breath.
He smiled.
“I love you.”
The words came easily.
Without hesitation.
Without embarrassment.
Like he’d said them a hundred times before.
She didn’t answer.
Kolton waited.
The silence stretched just a little too long.
His smile softened.
“Did you hear me?”
She nodded.
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
He searched her face.
“You ain’t gonna say it back?”
Kait’s eyes drifted away for the briefest second.
“Kolt…”
He propped himself up.
Not angry.
Just… confused.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about this.”
She frowned.
“About what?”
“You never say it back. Or at all.”
She blinked.
“Every time I say I love you…”
His voice stayed calm.
“…you never say it back.”
“Oh, come on…”
“No, seriously. I figured maybe you just needed time.”
His eyes met hers again.
“But it’s been a year.”
The room suddenly felt quieter.
Downstairs, Ram’s laugh echoed through the floor, followed by someone yelling for another beer.
Kolton looked at her carefully.
“So, you stay with me. You sleep next to me. But every single time I tell you I love you…”
His expression faltered.
“…nothing.”
Kait swallowed.
“Kolton, it’s not…”
She sighed.
“…I’m just not good at saying stuff like that.”
He studied her for a long moment.
Kolton let out a slow breath.
“Well, I mean it. I fucking love you.”
She looked at the floor.
“I know.”
“What’s the matter, baby? Everything is great.”
Silence.
Kait took the hat off and tossed it to the side.
“Ever since my accident. Things have been fucking awesome between us. More than ever.”
Kolton reached for her hand again.
She let him.
He squeezed it gently.
“I’m not trying to argue.”
“I know. I just… I’m not that type… I—”
“You used to tell me you loved me all the time back then.”
He managed a small smile.
“I was different back then, we were young and things were easier.” Kait looked up at him. “I just rather show it now, I guess.”
He smiled bigger.
“You’re right. You have shown me. You’ve been there for me… We’ve been through some shit these past few months.”Kait nodded. “Yeah. So that should be enough. Now let’s stop talking already.”
Kolton laughed maliciously and rolled her over.
Don lingered on the terrace a bit longer, watching the celebration take on the slower rhythm that came after midnight.
The grill had gone quiet.
Most of the steaks were gone.
Beer bottles covered the picnic tables, and someone had turned the music down enough that conversations no longer competed with it.
Randy sat back in his chair with a satisfied look on his face, one boot propped against the table while Loraine carried a sleeping Kyle inside, his little cowboy hat still crooked on his head.
Ram was halfway through another beer, arguing with Mack over something neither of them actually cared about.
“I’m telling you,” Ram said. “He’ll be back in ten.”
Mack shook his head.
“No chance.”
“She’s a buckle bunny.”
“So?”
“So she ain’t interested in conversation.”
Mack laughed.
“I’ll take thirty.”
“Twenty.”
“Done.”
They shook on it.
Don smirked to himself and came downstairs.
“…Son of a bitch,” Ram said as they saw Blaze come out of the room.
Mack held out his hand without saying a word.
Ram stared at it for a second before digging into his pocket.
“You robbed me.”
Ram peeled off a twenty and slapped it into Mack’s palm.
“I gave him ten minutes.”
“You gave him twenty.”
“I was being generous.”
Blaze looked between them.
“What’re y’all crying about?”
Ram pointed at him.
“You.”
“What’d I do?”
“You cost me twenty dollars.”
Blaze clipped the silver buckle onto his belt.
“How?” He asked lighting up a cigarette.
Mack grinned.
“He bet you wouldn’t last twenty minutes.”
Blaze looked at Ram.
“…Why.”
“You lasted longer with the bull.”
The courtyard erupted.
Randy nearly spit out his beer.
Even Don let out a quiet chuckle as he passed by.
Blaze shook his head.
“Difference is…”
He adjusted the buckle until it sat square against his belt.
“…I was trying to stay on the bull.”
Ram pointed toward the clubhouse. “Oh, one of those. I hate it when they don’t put their money where their mouth is.”
“Well, if it wasn’t for her mouth, I would’ve been done sooner.”
Don shook his head, catching the last of that conversation and went to the office.
The laughter faded behind him.
Inside, the room was cool and quiet.
He shut the door, sat at his desk, and unlocked the top drawer.
The black Motorola StarTAC always in that drawer.
He flipped the phone open and dialed the number from memory.
It rang twice.
“Bueno.”
“Buenas noches, Néstor.”
A warm laugh answered.
“Donovan.”
“How are things south of the river?”
“Very profitable.”
“I like hearing that.”
“As do I.”
Don leaned back in his chair. “Our end’s running smooth.”
“No complications?”
“Nothing worth mentioning.”
It had taken a few months, but the transportation routes had settled into a rhythm.
Drivers knew their schedules.
Safe houses had proven reliable.
Money was flowing steadily.
“The deal your boy made in Louisiana was brilliant.”
“Yeah, he’s a great strategist.”
Nobody stepped on anyone else’s territory.
Mondragón chuckled.
“The Louisiana arrangement… You raised a smart man.”
Don smiled to himself.
“Yeah. Damn proud.”
A rough cough interrupted the conversation.
Longer this time.
Harsher.
Don frowned.
“You alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
“It’s nothing.”
Another cough.
“I’ve had it all winter.”
Don wasn’t convinced.
Néstor had never been one to complain.
If he admitted to being sick, it meant it had gotten bad enough that he couldn’t hide it anymore.
Still…
The old man changed the subject before Don could press him.
“I have another job for you.”
“I’m listening.”
“Need you to find someone for me.”
Don’s expression hardened.
“And make him disappear.”
Don reached for the notepad beside the phone.
“What are we talking?”
“Thirty-five.”
The pen stopped.
Not bad.
Especially for a single target.
“I’ll send photographs, names, known associates.”
“You got a last location?”
“Near Corpus Christi, has business at the Port.”
That made things easier.
Don nodded to himself.
“I’ll take it.”
“I thought you would.”
“I already know who I’m sending… We’ll handle it.”
“Está bueno pues.”
The line went quiet for a moment.
“Take care of yourself, get that shit checked out.”
“Yeah—” he wanted to add something else but another coughing fit made it impossible.
The phone clicked.
Don slowly closed the StarTAC and stared at it for a moment before slipping it back into the drawer.
lafayette, louisiana
Rain tapped softly against the tall windows of Lazare Manor.
Not the hurried Texas downpour Lane was used to.
A slow Louisiana rain.
The kind that settled over the bayou and seemed content to stay until morning.
The library smelled of old leather, cigar smoke, polished mahogany and bourbon older than most motorcycle clubs.
Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined the walls, interrupted only by oil portraits of long-dead Lazares dressed in military uniforms and powdered wigs. A marble fireplace crackled despite the humid night, more for tradition than warmth.
Marcel Lazare eased a crystal decanter across the table.
“Louis XIII.”
Diablo looked at the bottle.
“That the liquor’s name?”
Marcel smiled politely.
“Bourbon.”
Diablo blinked once.
“…I don’t even wanna know what that costs.”
Across the room, Thorne Lazare chuckled into his own glass.
“My brother insists one should never discuss the price of good liquor.”
Marcel glanced at him.
“I insist one should never ask.“
Lane accepted the crystal tumbler with a nod.
“Appreciate the hospitality.”
“It is not hospitality, my friend.”
Marcel settled back into the leather armchair.
“It is gratitude.”
Lane raised an eyebrow.
“The arrangement has exceeded every projection.”
Thorne nodded slowly.
“Krait Huntsville has proven remarkably… efficient.”
Lane took a slow sip.
The bourbon was smooth enough that it barely burned.
“Both of our clubs are making money.”
“Precisely.”
Marcel smiled.
“The finest business relationships are those in which everyone leaves convinced they have profited more than the other.”
Diablo looked between the brothers feeling completely out of place. He glanced at Lane.
“I miss Texas.”
Lane hid the corner of a smile behind his glass.
Marcel stood and wandered toward one of the rain-speckled windows.
“The routes have become wonderfully predictable.”
“No law enforcement complications?”
“Nothing beyond the expected, but it is under control.”
“Half the force is indebted to us anyway,” Thorne, the VP said.
“That’s good.”
Outside, lightning flickered over the cypress trees, briefly illuminating Spanish moss hanging like curtains over the bayou.
Marcel watched it without really seeing it.
“There is something deeply satisfying about watching two organizations prosper together.”
Lane joined him at the window.
“Krait’s been looking for partners, not customers.”
Marcel nodded.
“That distinction is precisely why we accepted your proposal.”
Thorne swirled the bourbon in his glass.
“And we also find it refreshing to do business with a partner who’s not the product of five generations of inbreeding.”
Diablo laughed.
“Like the Chrome Union.”
Marcel pointed at him while still holding his glass.
Lane chuckled.
“Well, I can’t trace my ancestry as far back as you two can, but I sure hope there was none of that happening.”
“There wasn’t,” Marcel said. “It would be obvious.”
They chuckled.
“You’ve never researched your ancestry?” Thorne asked.
Lane shook his head. “Not much to research. My father and Don grew up in the system. They knew their last name only because there was a note with them when they were given up.”
“Still, the last name… Westfall, could be of German origin. North Rhine-Westphalia comes to mind,” Marcel said looking at Thorne.
Thorne shrugged. “Probably Dutch?”
“I have no idea,” Lane said.
“I’m sure we can trace it back to Europe somehow. Like everything else in America.”
“I’m just Mexican,” Diablo said drinking the rest of his expensive bourbon.
Marcel nodded once.
“Yes, you most certainly are.”
Diablo wasn’t sure what that meant.
He shrugged it off.
A comfortable silence settled over the room.
Rain.
Fire.
Crystal.
Old wood.
The sort of quiet only very old houses seemed capable of producing.
Finally, Marcel let out a discreet chuckle.
“I must confess, Kount…”
Lane looked over.
“…when we heard Barry had been discharged, we assumed whoever replaced him would prove just as incompetent.”
Lane took another sip of bourbon.
“I’m glad to disappoint you.”
A faint smile tugged at Thorne’s lips.
“You’ve made that charter far more interesting than it was.”
Lane didn’t answer.
He preferred letting people finish their thoughts.
Marcel noticed.
“You should know by now…” He smiled. “Lazares despise boredom.”
Lane gave a single nod.
“Speaking of…” Thorne said, reaching for a small silver bell resting on the coffee table. “Let’s bring in the entertainment.”
He rang it once.
Within moments, three beautiful women descended the grand staircase, each making their way toward one of the men.
A handsome young man appeared behind them, slim, soft features.
He went straight to Marcel.
Diablo looked at Lane as the girl next to him grabbed his hand.
“Don’t tell Alejandra.”
Lane smirked and gesturing toward the exit.
“Different rocker, man.”
Diablo disappeared upstairs with one of the women without another word.
Marcel stood, and the young man set his glass on the table and held on to his arm.
“I’ll be retiring for the evening. Gentlemen, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
“Good night,” Lane said.
Marcel bowed his head and quietly left the library.
The girl assigned to Lane settled onto his lap, brushing her lips against his ear.
Lane gently stopped her.
“I’m alright. Thank you.”
She immediately withdrew without protest.
Thorne noticed.
“You’d prefer this one instead?”
He motioned toward another girl.
Lane shook his head.
“Nah.”
The woman looked to Thorne, who dismissed her with a nod.
Once they were alone, Thorne smiled knowingly.
“I understand.”
He patted the thigh of the woman sitting beside him.
“Leave.”
She got up and left the room without saying a word.
Thorne stood.
“Come with me. I have something far more interesting to show you.”
Lane followed him through the rear doors of the manor.
The rain had stopped.
The swamp glistened beneath the moonlight, Spanish moss swaying from tall cypress trees.
A narrow wooden boardwalk stretched away from the house into the darkness.
“Watch for gators, Kount,” Thorne said casually as they walked.
“They’re faster than people think…”
Lane glanced toward the black water.
Ten feet away, a massive alligator floated almost motionless, only its eyes and the ridges of its back breaking the surface.
“Jesus.”
Thorne chuckled.
“They’re always watching.”
The boardwalk ended at a weathered barn tucked among the trees.
Before Lane saw anything…
He heard it.
A low, guttural growl.
Another answered it from somewhere deeper inside.
Thorne opened the heavy wooden door.
Silver eyes reflected the lantern light.
Then another pair.
Lane stepped closer.
Two enormous black wolves paced behind a reinforced steel enclosure, muscles rolling beneath their coats as they bared their teeth.
One of the wolves was trying to bite off the iron bars
Thorne looked back over his shoulder.
He could tell Lane was impressed.
Lane stopped in front of the enclosure, eyebrows raised.
“Holy shit…”
He couldn’t take his eyes off them.
“You’ve got… wolves.”
Thorne laughed.
“Meet Noctis…”
He gestured toward the larger male.
“…and Tenebris.”
He slowly dragged his hand across the bars.
Both wolves lunged at the cage with explosive force, snarling and snapping at the steel.
Thorne laughed louder.
“Magnificent, aren’t they?”
Lane let out a low whistle.
“They’re incredible. How’d you get them?”
“Pure accident.”
Thorne rested a hand on the enclosure.
“A client once requested a tiger.”
Lane looked over.
“I happened to find a man who could procure virtually any animal imaginable.”
He smiled.
“So… I asked for two black wolves.”
Lane looked back at the animals.
“I’m guessing they weren’t exactly eager to cooperate.”
“Oh, they fought.”
Thorne’s grin widened.
“They still do.”
He picked up a heavy bucket resting beside the cage.
“Want to feed them?”
Lane grinned for the first time that evening.
“Fuck yeah.”
Thorne laughed.
dryden - next morning
Don waited until everyone had settled before closing the chapel door.
The usual Sunday chatter died down as patched members took their seats around the table. Blaze’s new buckle caught the overhead light every time he shifted, earning another grin from Ram across the room.
“You gonna polish that thing every meeting?” Ram asked.
Blaze looked down at it.
“Probably.”
“You sleep with it on?”
“No.”
Ram nodded.
“The blonde probably appreciated that.”
A few laughs circled the table.
Blaze smirked without looking up.
“Can’t believe you made me lose forty bucks.”
“Next time don’t bet against me.”
Don cleared his throat. “Y’all done?”
The room quieted.
Don rested both hands on the table.
“Business first.”
He glanced around the room.
“Arizona runs are still moving on schedule. Houston buyers are officially on board.”
The room was now listening.
“Huntsville had become a well-oiled machine since Kount took over. He just met with the Lazare brothers last night, and they are happy with the partnership.”
Kait didn’t react.
Don continued.
“Everybody’s making money.”
A few satisfied nods traveled around the table.
“So let’s keep it that way.”
He opened a manila folder.
“Now. Something interesting. Last night I got a call from Mondragón.”
That got everyone’s attention.
“He’s offering thirty-five thousand for a contract.”
Ram let out a low whistle.
“Been a while.”
Don nodded.
“It has.”
He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table.
“Name’s Emilio Vargas.”
The picture made its way around the room.
“Former logistics coordinator. He stole from Mondragón and disappeared.”
He looked around the table.
“The last few sightings place him in Corpus Christi.”
Don tapped another page in the folder.
“Seems like he has business Corpus. At the port”
Kait’s eyes lifted from the photograph.
The port.
Don noticed.
“He still has people there. He’s careful. Moves around constantly but the port is the one place he keeps coming back to.”
Kloud leaned forward.
“King, I would like to do it.”
A few heads turned toward him.
Don looked at the young Koil for a moment.
“I appreciate the initiative.”
Kloud nodded.
“But not this one. This assignment needs someone who’s hunted before.”
Don closed the folder.
“Toast.”
Kait looked up.
“That’s you.”
A smile flickered across her face before she could hide it.
“Yes, sir.”
Don slid the folder toward her.
“As soon as I heard ‘port,’ I figured you’d be interested.”
Kait opened it immediately.
Shipping manifests.
Photographs.
Vehicle registrations.
Her mind was already working.
Don watched her for a second.
“It’ll also give you an opportunity…”
He paused just long enough for her to meet his eyes.
“…to resume your investigation from a few months back.”
Kait gave a single nod.
“That’s great. Thank you.”
“Just don’t lose sight of the contract.”
“I won’t. I’ll get on this right away.”
Don looked around the table once more.
“Anything else?”
Nobody spoke.
He closed the folder in front of him.
“Alright.”
He stood.
“Krait dismissed.”
Ram clapped Kloud on the shoulder as everyone began filing out.
“You’ll get your turn.”
Kloud shrugged.
“I know.”
Don looked up.
“Toast.”
Kait stopped at the chapel door and looked back.
Don waited until the last person stepped outside before closing the door behind them.
The chapel fell silent.
He walked around the table to meet her.
“What’s up, King?”
“How’ve you been?”
Kait looked almost surprised by the question.
“I’m alright.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, sir.”
Don studied her face.
“You’ve had a few months.”
She waited.
“If you had anything you wanted to say…”
He shrugged lightly.
“…about my decision back then.”
Another quiet settled between them.
Kait shook her head.
“No, sir.”
“You don’t?”
“No. My job is to follow my president’s orders.”
“Alright then. Get going.”
“Yeah.”
He watched her leave. She was different now. Serious, focused. She didn’t laugh or talk as much as she had when she first arrived.
She reminded him of Lane.
They’d both lost the same thing.
They’d both buried it the same way.
They’d become exactly the kind of leaders he’d hoped they would.
It came at a high cost for both, but sacrifices had to be made for the good of the club…
And to keep Loraine’s mouth shut.
Don took a deep breath.
He pushed the thought aside as he gathered the remaining papers from the table.
outside
Kolton met her at the bottom of the step when she walked out.
“Everything alright?”
Kait nodded and kept walking. “Yeah.”
“What did he want?”
“Just talk about the assignment.”
Kolton nodded.
“Cool. You hungry?”
She looked at it, then back at him.
“I was actually thinking about heading to Corpus.”
He frowned.
“Right now?”
She nodded.
“I wanna get eyes on the port before I start making any moves.”
“We can leave after breakfast.”
She smiled faintly.
“I’m just casing it. I wanna see where he works, who’s around him, what the routine looks like.”
Kolton watched her for a second.
“You shouldn’t go by yourself.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Kait.”
“I’m not hitting him today. It’s cool.”
She slipped a glove on.
“I’m just gonna look around. That’s it.”
He was quiet.
She could almost see him deciding whether to argue.
Finally, he sighed.
“I still don’t like it.”
“Tough shit.”
She kissed him.
“You could at least let me ride with you.”
“And do what?”
He shrugged. “Stand there.”
She laughed softly. “Exactly.”
He reached out, hooking a finger through one of her belt loops before she could walk away.
She stopped.
“What?”
He pulled her a little closer and kissed her.
Not desperate.
Not possessive.
Just enough to make himself feel better.
“Be careful.”
“I will. I’ll call you.”
He searched her face another moment.
Then let go.
“I’ll see you at the house.”
Kait nodded.
“Yep.”
She climbed onto the Kriger and thumbed the starter.
The familiar rumble filled the courtyard.
Kolton watched her pull through the gate and disappear down the county road until the sound of the motorcycle faded into the distance.
DRYDEN POLICE DEPARTMENT
Kait killed the engine in front of the Dryden Police Department and pulled off her sunglasses before walking inside.
The dispatcher looked up from behind the front counter.
“Morning.”
“Morning. I’m looking for Richter.”
“He just got in.”
The dispatcher picked up the phone.
“Hang on.”
She pressed one of the extensions.
“Mike, you got a visitor.”
A pause.
“Yeah.”
She smiled faintly before hanging up.
“He’ll be right out.”
Kait leaned against the counter while the dispatcher returned to typing.
About a minute later, the door leading to the back offices swung open.
Richter stepped out carrying a Styrofoam cup of coffee. He spotted Kait and gave her a nod.
“Morning, Ms. Lokken.”
“Morning.”
He studied her for a second.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m checking on Dulce Solis’ investigation.”
His expression tightened.
“Anything new?”
Richter exhaled through his nose.
“Walk with me.”
He tipped his coffee toward the parking lot.
“I was headed out anyway.”
They stepped outside together.
The morning sun was already beginning to warm the asphalt.
“I wish I had something for you,” Richter said.
Kait looked over at him.
“Really? Nothing?”
He shook his head.
“It’s been months now.”
“I know.”
“So tell me.”
Richter took another sip of coffee before answering.
“They recovered dozens of fingerprints… Too many.”
“Okay…”
“They also recovered semen.”
Kait stopped walking.
“You ran the DNA?”
Richter looked away for a moment.
“No. I couldn’t get authorization. They wouldn’t approve it.”
Her face hardened.
“Why?”
Silence.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“They’re calling it resource management.”
Kait let out a humorless laugh.
“Of course they are.”
“They’re looking at her lifestyle. They figure any DNA profile would probably come back with multiple… contributors.”
Kait folded her arms.
“So they just gave up.”
Richter leaned against the hood of his patrol car.
“The case is cold.”
Kait scoffed.
“I tried, Kait. I pushed it as far as I could but the sheriff said it was a dead end.”
“Bullshit.”
Richter sighed.
“It’s the same everywhere. Dallas, Houston, here. Women like Dulce don’t get the same attention.”
He hated saying it.
“They’re seen as… disposable.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Well, she was more than that.”
Richter nodded slowly.
“I know.”
She stared at him another second before turning away.
“Thanks.”
“Kait…”
She kept walking.
“I tried.”
She stopped beside the Kriger without turning around.
“Yeah.”
The bike roared to life.
Richter stood in the parking lot watching her disappear down the street, knowing exactly where she was headed.
And knowing there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop her.
The Port of Corpus Christi seemed bigger this time around.
Cargo cranes towered over the waterfront like steel skeletons, lifting containers from massive freighters while eighteen-wheelers crawled through the maze of warehouses and loading yards.
She parked the Kriger across the street from the terminals and spent the next four hours watching.
Waiting.
Emilio Vargas arrived just after ten.
Clean white pickup.
Pressed blue button-up.
Khakis.
He looked more like an accountant than a man with a thirty-five-thousand-dollar bounty on his head.
He greeted dockworkers by name.
Checked manifests.
Walked warehouse floors.
Left.
Returned.
Nothing.
No bodyguards.
No obvious criminal activity.
If Don hadn’t handed her the file himself, she’d have sworn the man was legitimate.
Kait made another mental note.
Routine. Predictable. Comfortable.
He would be there the next day, and the day after that.
That was going to be the easy part.
The real work was with the Bosnians, so she went over to their area.
She kept watching.
Shortly after lunch, one of the warehouse doors rolled open.
A dozen young women stepped outside.
Some laughed.
One lit a cigarette.
Another adjusted her top making sure her breasts spilled out more.
None of them looked frightened.
None looked like prisoners.
A couple of them spoke Russian.
Black Suburbans rolled up to the curb.
The women climbed inside without hesitation.
The SUVs pulled away together.
Kait followed this time. She already knew the port was their center of operations.
She made sure to keep a safe distance and followed the Suburbans all the way to Paradise Gentlemen’s Club.
She already knew how she was going to get closer, and she needed Amber for that.
The ride back to Dryden felt twice as short.
She barely remembered taking the highway.
By the time the Kriger rolled to a stop in front of Amber’s apartment, the sun had already begun slipping toward the horizon.
Kait killed the engine and climbed off the bike.
Amber opened the door as soon as she saw Kait through the peephole.
“I need your help.”
