CHAPTER 10
KRAIT BUSINESS AS USUAL
Breakfast was already half over by the time Kait showed up.
Eggs on plates. Coffee going stale. The low murmur of men who’d collectively decided the night before didn’t exist. Chairs scraped. Forks clinked. Somebody laughed too loud, another burped. Just another morning at the Nest.
Except for one thing.
Lane was still there.
Of course he was.
Sitting at the far end of the table. Coffee untouched. Kutte on. Watching everything like he could control the room just by moving his eyes.
Don sat at the head of the table, Dryden Pulse folded in one hand, cigarette burning down between his fingers. Klaus stood near the counter, phone pressed to his ear, voice low and clipped.
Kait didn’t announce herself.
She emerged from the double doors like the Nest was late for her.
Boots clean. Hair down. Kutte settled perfectly on her shoulders, like it was part of her body. She looked rested. Awake. Ready. Dangerous in that quiet way that made people straighten without realizing why.
A couple of heads turned.
Lane watched every move she made.
Kait crossed the room without slowing, grabbed a mug, poured herself coffee she clearly wasn’t planning to drink.
“Morning,” she said, bright and casual, like yesterday hadn’t happened.
Don looked up. Took her in. Noticed everything.
“You’re up later than usual,” he said.
Kait smiled. Not sweet. Not apologetic.
“Earlier, actually,” she said leaning back against the counter instead of sitting, one boot hooked on the lower rung like she owned the place. Took a sip, made a face at the bitter taste, set the mug down.
“I called Denmark,” she continued. “Some of Rokkstar’s inheritance finally cleared. It’s getting wired.”
Don’s cigarette paused halfway to his mouth.
“No shit?” he said.
“Yep. Should get a call at Snake Eyes by lunchtime.”
A few men reacted—nods, smiles.
“How much,” Klaus asked, phone now lowered.
“Ten grand. For now.” She let it land. “Enough to cover some of Huntsville’s expenses.”
Klaus did a low whistle.
Lane’s head turned.
Kait met his eyes immediately.
Didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.
“It’s just an emergency advance,” she added. “There’ll be more coming.”
Don smiled then, real approval. “That’s great work, Toast.”
“We sure as fuck need it,” Randy said.
“Least I can do.”
Lane’s voice cut in, flat. “After yesterday, no doubt.”
Kait tilted her head, studying him like a variable she’d already solved.
“Yesterday is done,” said Don.
“Just,” she said. “Be mindful on how you spend our money up there.”
Lane scoffed, ready to say something that would crush her, but Melanie came out of the kitchen with his food.
The way she looked at Lane belonged in a Hallmark movie—soft, hopeful, painfully out of place. She placed the plate in front of him, smiling. Then her fingers brushed down the front of his kutte like it was familiar territory.
Lane didn’t touch her.
He also didn’t stop her.
Kait noticed all of it.
Don glanced up from the table, eyes moving between faces. “Let’s see if the rest of you follow her lead,” he said mildly.
Groans. Jokes. Excuses about dues and bad timing.
Kait scanned the table, then looked back at Melanie and Lane—Melanie still smiling, Lane allowing it without engaging.
“Melanie,” Kait said evenly, “can you make me some toast to go?”
Melanie blinked, surprised. “Oh—yeah. Of course.”
She disappeared back into the kitchen.
Kait turned like the moment was already over.
“Heard that’s what you go by now? Toast?” He said making his usual sour face.
“I hate it,” said Klaus still on the phone.
“It’s stupid,” Lane said.
Kait scoffed. “Then don’t use it.”
“Ain’t got a reason to, anyway,” he said dropping his bacon back on his plate.
Kait raised one eyebrow, about to say something to piss him off but decided against it. “Well, I guess it works out for both of us.” She looked at Kode. “You coming to Snake Eyes with me?”
Kode blinked. “Yeah. Sure.” He shoveled the rest of his eggs in and chased them with coffee.
Kait grabbed her keys, still not sitting.
“Got a couple recoveries lined up,” she said. “And we’re not being gentle on collections.”
A murmur rolled through the room. Interest. Respect. A flicker of fear.
Lane lifted an eyebrow, almost amused. “Sounds like a lot of work.”
Kait looked at him.
“Nothing we can’t handle.”
Lane shifted his weight, eyes sliding to Don. “I was hoping to go over some numbers with Loraine today—”
“Loraine’s at the ranch,” Don said, cutting him off without raising his voice. “She’s with Prince.”
Kait nodded slowly. “That’s why she asked me to run things.”
She met Lane’s eyes again.
“But you’re more than welcome to come and check the books yourself.”
He didn’t respond.
Melanie returned with a small plate, two slices of white toast. Handed them to Kait, then drifted back toward Lane.
“Thanks,” Kait said.
She spread jelly on the toast, took a bite.
“Let’s go, Kode.”
Kode was already pulling on his jacket.
Kait stepped past Lane, close enough that the air shifted—charged, sharp, electric.
Lane stayed where he was. Jaw tight. Coffee still untouched.
Don watched the door a moment longer than necessary.
“What’s in that jelly today?” Ram joked, breaking the tension just enough for the room to breathe again.
snake eyes
Kait arrived at Snake Eyes already in motion, no briefing needed from Mundo. She took control of the space immediately, checking files, payment logs, and confirming outstanding recoveries without asking permission.
Collections turn aggressive but controlled. Kait and Kode enforced payment without violence where possible, using deadlines, documentation, and leverage. Where resistance appeared, she made examples just visible enough to make the client promise to pay. Others would say they were on their way.
The call with the Western Union confirmation call came in before noon. The transfer from Denmark was confirmed. Kait signs off on allocating part of it toward Huntsville repairs and earmarks the rest to stabilize short-term operating cash.
The first skip folded fast.
They caught him outside a payday loan place off Main, cigarette dangling from his mouth, eyes already darting when Kait stepped into his line of sight. Kode stayed back in the car, watching the flow of foot traffic like he was counting breaths.
Kait didn’t raise her voice.
Didn’t touch him.
She just said his name, the amount he owed, and the date stamped on the paperwork.
Then she mentioned the bench warrant he didn’t know he had for Failure to Appear.
The cigarette hit the ground and he started running.
Kait sighed then began chasing. She cut through an alley and was able to intercept the guy.
Within minutes he was handcuffed and they took him to jail.
Kode whistled softly as they got back in the car.
“That was… easy.”
Kait smiled faintly. “Would’ve been easier for him to just fucking pay us.”
“I know, these dumb motherfuckers.”
The radio crackled, then the song hit. Breathe dragged her back to a colder time, steel and breath and silence packed tight around her chest. She hadn’t meant to move, but her hand slid up to her upper ribs anyway, a reflex her body hadn’t forgotten.
“You alright?” Kode asked.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
The second one didn’t go that way.
They tracked him to a duplex on the edge of town, peeling paint, busted screen door. Kode fed Kait the last known phone number, scribbled notes from a printout he’d pulled that morning—credit application, employer, cousin’s address.
“Landline’s dead,” he muttered, flipping his little notebook closed. “But his pager pinged near here yesterday. Neighbor’s probably covering.”
Kait nodded once and went straight for the door.
The skip bolted out the back instead.
Kait was faster.
She caught him by the collar before he cleared the fence, momentum carrying them both into the dirt. He swung wild. She ducked, drove her shoulder into his chest, and took him down hard—clean, controlled, no wasted motion.
He stopped fighting the second she straddled and decked him in the jaw.
“You fucking done?” she asked, breath steady.
“Yes,” he choked. “Yes—Jesus—yes.”
They hauled the skip up, dusted him off just enough to be civil, and walked him to the car. No crowd. No noise. Just business.
As they pulled away from the jail, Kode glanced at her, impressed and a little shaken.
“You always move like that?”
Kait wiped her hands on a rag, already checking the next address.
“Sorry. Just tired.”
Kode smirked.
On her way back, she passed by the lake house again. The FOR SALE sign looked brighter this time.
By early afternoon, multiple accounts that had been dragging suddenly paid or requested extensions. Kait grants none without collateral or telling them to wait on Loraine to approve it. Snake Eyes’ phones didn’t stop ringing.
Kode notices that people respond to Kait differently than they did to Lane—less fear, more certainty. She doesn’t threaten; she decides.
Kait leaves Snake Eyes briefly to handle paperwork, returns without losing momentum, and finishes the fifth hour already planning the next round of recoveries.
THE NEST
Lane sat at the foot of the bed lacing his boot.
Melanie sat up behind him, the sheet pulled to her chest, hair loose and tangled. She watched him the way she always did—like if she memorized enough of him, it would hurt less when he ignores her again.
“So what’d I miss.”
Melanie blinked at the shift, then smiled, eager to be useful.
“A lot, I think. Well… it felt like a lot,” she said. “Things got weird.”
Lane grunted. “How.”
She adjusted the sheet higher.
“Well, Prince’s kid—Kyle—he broke his arm at daycare. But then the doctors started asking questions because he had other bruises.”
Lane’s jaw tightened slightly. “Yeah.”
“Well, Prince found out about Luis,” she went on. “LeeAnn’s boyfriend. He’d been… beating that poor baby.”
Lane rested his hands on his waist, already wondering why she was still in his bed.
“Yeah, I know.”
Melanie nodded. “Prince lost it. Went to Brews with Kait.” She hesitated. “It got bad.”
“I know all that,” he said flatly. “What else.”
Melanie nodded again, rushed to fill the space before the silence swallowed her.
“Well—Toast’s been everywhere. Like… everywhere.”
That got him.
Lane’s head turned just enough. “What do you mean.”
“She’s been doing all the stuff you used to do,” Melanie said. “Shifts at Snake Eyes, always coming and going. She even works at the Dirty Alley. Oh, and she’s been taking care of the snake,” Melanie added, softer.
“The Judge,” Lane snapped.
“Sorry. The Judge. Randy was showing her.”
He nodded slowly. Remembering the night before, how Kait did everything perfectly.
Lane didn’t speak right away. He was still picturing her leaving the chapel upset.
“Oh, yeah,” Melanie added, almost as an afterthought, “and her and Prince have been having problems.”
Lane’s voice came slow. “What problems?”
“They’ve been fighting a lot,” Melanie said carefully. “Kait didn’t even come home one night. I think they broke up.”
Lane grabbed his kutte from the chair and put it on.
“What?”
“Yeah, she spent the night somewhere else.”
“Where’d she go?”
Melanie shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe… with someone else.”
He frowned. “Who?”
She shrugged, watching him like he was something unreal. “I don’t know.”
“Then why you say that?” Lane reached for his cigarettes, paused.
Melanie only shrugged erratically.
“Okay. I got shit to do, so it’s time to go,” he said. “Make sure you change the sheets before you leave.”
Then he walked out, already gone in every way that mattered.
Melanie lay back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling, replaying the conversation like it meant more than it did.
BREWS N’ CREWS - SUNSET
The neon at Brews N’ Crews was just starting to hum when Kait pushed through the door.
It wasn’t busy yet. That in-between hour where the tables were still shiny and staff could pick the music. The jukebox was low, A Country Boy Can Survive bleeding softly through the room like a spell giving cleansing what happened the night before. She looked at the floor. No signs of Kolton’s blood.
Mitch sat on his usual stool, one boot hooked on the rung, beer already halfway gone. He squinted at the door, then let out a low whistle.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he drawled.
“Girl, you got more balls than Bill gettin’ Hillary a blue dress for Christmas.”
A couple guys snorted. Someone groaned.
Chugs didn’t even look at Mitch. He just slid Mitch’s glass a few inches farther away.
Kait didn’t react. Didn’t smile. Didn’t bristle. She crossed the room and stopped at the bar, hands resting flat on the wood like she belonged there.
Chugs was mid-conversation with some construction guys. The guy glanced over his shoulder, checked her out for a second.
Chugs raised an eyebrow at the man. “Hold that thought, chief.”
Construction guy muttered something under his breath and moved off.
Chugs turned to Kait. “Huh,” he said. “You forget something?”
“I think we all did last night,” Kait said evenly. “You got a minute?”
Chugs studied her. Not her kutte. Her posture. Her eyes. Then he nodded once and jerked his head toward the office.
Mitch leaned forward on his stool, curiosity vibrating off him.
The office door closed with a soft click.
Chugs leaned back against the desk, arms crossed. “What can I do ya for?”
Kait met his eyes.
“I wanted to apologize for pulling a gun on you. But… you had a shotgun to my brother’s head.”
“I know.” Chugs watched her a second longer, then shook his head faintly.
She took a deep breath.
“Look, there’s a good reason for all this,” Chugs went on. “I didn’t inherit this place. Didn’t wake up one day and folks just decided to listen to me.”
He tapped the desk once with two fingers.
“I worked for every inch of respect in this town. Took years of keepin’ my mouth shut, my word solid, and my doors open when everything else was burnin’.”
He met her eyes.
“Brews stays neutral because I make it neutral. Because people know if they bring all the bullshit from outside in here, then this place is just like everywhere else.”
Kait was following by nodding her as Chugs spoke.
“And if that happens,” he said, voice lower, “where the hell can you be safe in this town?”
Kait nodded slowly. “I understand.”
“Good,” Chugs said. “Because neutral ground ain’t about comfort. It’s about survival. Everyone needs a place like this at least once.”
Another pause, deliberate.
“But I get ya.”
“It won’t happen again,” Kait said.
Chugs gave a single nod. “That’s all I needed.”
He opened the door.
“Get you a shot for the road, on me,” Chugs said.
Kait stepped back into the bar. The song was still playing. She asked for a shot of vodka and downed it as soon as it was set on the counter.
“Oh, Mags said to tell ya to go over to her place if I see ya.”
Kait nodded.
“You gonna shoot her too?” said Mitch and Chugs elbowed him.
When she left, the neon was brighter, the bar louder, and Brews N’ Crews was still standing.
Neutral.
HEDRICK RANCH
Dinner was still sitting on the table when Lane arrived.
Loraine had cooked like routine could keep the walls up—full plates, familiar smells, something warm to hold onto. Chicken, potatoes, cornbread. Green beans.
Kolton sat on the couch, ribs wrapped tight, arm braced against his side. His face was cut, bruises already showing, lip split, one eye darkening. He looked wrecked, but was awake.
Blaze leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Randy moved between stove and sink, quieter than usual.
Lane stepped inside.
Loraine turned first. “Hey, baby,” she said. “You eat yet?”
Lane nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he lied. “They had sloppy joes at the Nest.”
She nodded, accepting it. “Sit anyway.”
Kolton shifted, winced. Said nothing.
Loraine set a dish down, then wiped her hands on a towel. “He’s doing better,” she said. “My poor baby. Any idea who was the asshole who did this yet?”
Lane shook his head and looked at Kolton smirked.
Blaze coughed trying to stifle his laughter.
“I still don’t know why anyone would jump him like that,” Loraine added, shaking her head. “This fucking town.”
“Mom, just… stop asking,” Kolton said from the couch.
After a few minutes of more small talk, Lane gave Randy a look and Randy cleared his throat. “Come out on the porch, darlin’. It’s a nice night. Boys got club stuff to discuss.”
Loraine looked at them and knew they were going to talk club business. “Okay. Don’t make him move too much, okay, boys?”
She glanced at the three men, lingering on Kolton, then disappeared down the hall with Randy.
The house went quiet.
Blaze exhaled slowly. “Alright.”
Kolton closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again. “You here to check if I’m still breathin’?”
Lane stayed standing. “How bad is it, bro.”
Kolton snorted softly. “You lookin’ at it.”
Lane nodded once. No apology. No justification. That part had already been paid for.
Blaze looked between them. “Luis is still out there.”
Kolton’s jaw tightened. “Yeah.”
“He was taken to the ER but was already discharged. I’ll find him, though,” Lane said.
Blaze didn’t hesitate. “I’ll help ya.”
Kolton looked at Lane sharply. “Wish I could join.”
Lane met his gaze. “We got his.”
Silence crept back in.
Kolton shifted again, pain flashing across his face. “She hasn’t been by yet.”
Lane stiffened.
“Didn’t even bother to see if I was still alive. Have y’all seen her?”
Blaze glanced between them, careful. “Yeah, she’s good. You two talking at all?”
Kolton shook his head. “No. Not after the hospital.”
Lane spoke quietly. “She’s covering for Loraine at Snake Eyes all day. Probably just busy.”
Kolton laughed once, bitter. “She hates my guts now.”
Blaze held up a hand. “Enough.”
Kolton leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “Guess I tried too hard to make it be like before.”
“Don’t worry about her right now. Just heal up,” said Lane.
“I still don’t even know what I did wrong.”
Lane crossed his arms. Didn’t matter where he was, he could not escape her.
Footsteps sounded down the hall.
Loraine’s voice floated back in. “Your inhaler was outside.”
The room reset instantly.
Blaze reached for a plate. “Shall we?”
Lane nodded and stepped back toward the door.
Kolton watched them leave, eyes dark, expression unreadable.
Outside, the night pressed in.
LATER
Kait left Brews as the sky slid deeper into blue, Chugs’ words followed her down the block.
Go see Mags.
Mag’s Alterations was still lit. Same cluttered window. Same bell tied to the door, jingling once when Kait stepped inside.
Mags was behind the counter, glasses perched low, sorting thread into neat little piles. She looked up, smiled faintly.
“Evenin’,” she said. “You look like someone who’s had a day.”
Kait huffed quietly. “That obvious?”
Mags chuckled and waved a hand.
“Heard you made quite the first impression,” she said. “Most folks take longer.”
Kait shook her head, amused despite herself. “That’s me, talk of the town.”
“This town whispers,” Mags reached under the counter and pulled out a small cloth bundle, folded careful, deliberate. She set it down between them but didn’t open it yet.
“I had put it away since it’s been so long,” Mags said. “But I did some digging and I found it. An old special order, by your dad.”
Kait’s expression stilled.
Inside was a small patch—clean, simple. Red field. White cross.
The Danish flag.
Mag handed it to her.
Kait stared at it, chest tightening. Greg wore his on the seam of his kutte. Lower right side.
“He never picked it up,” Mags said. “Next thing I knew, he had moved back home taking his little girl with him.”
Kait picked it up carefully, like it might cut.
“I love this.”
Mags smiled a little. “Thought so. Let me stick it on.”
Mags studied her—not measuring this time. Just seeing.
She reached for the kutte without ceremony. Kait slipped it off and handed it over, careful but relaxed now. Mags laid it flat on the counter, smoothing the leather from habit.
Without asking, she positioned the patch exactly where Rokkstar had worn his. She pinned it, stepped back, then nudged it a fraction to the right.
“There,” she said. “That’s better.”
“As if you read my mind,” Kait said smiling.
The machine whirred to life. Steady. Familiar.
Kait leaned against the counter and watched. The sound filled the shop, even and sure, like something that had done this a thousand times and would do it a thousand more.
“Your dad was very proud of being a Viking,” Mags said over the hum.
Kait smiled faintly. “Oh yeah.”
“He wore that little hammer necklace too.”
“Yep, Got buried with it too.”
“Aww… that’s nice.” The machine slowed, stopped. Mags clipped the thread and turned the kutte back over, pressing the patch flat with her palm.
“Done.”
She handed it back.
Kait slid it on, reached inside, fingers brushing the stitching. Solid. Hidden. Exactly right.
“Looks good,” Mags said. “And before you ask—no charge. That one’s been sittin’ on my shelf long enough.”
Kait nodded. “Thank you.”
Mags waved it off. “No worries, just don’t make me redo it.”
Kait smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She headed for the door, bell jingling once more. Kait turned. “Really. Thank you for being so kind, Mags. Have a good night.”
“Don’t mention it,” Mags called after her.
The Nest was quieter than usual.
Most of the bikes were gone—only Papi, Ram’s ride, and Override, Kode’s bike, sat cooling in the lot.
Kait came in through the back, kutte still on, boots leaving faint dust on the concrete. She headed straight for her room, peeled off her clothes, and stepped into a hot shower.
She didn’t stick around.
By the time she came back downstairs, hair damp, wearing the new black tank Loraine had gotten her, the Nest had dropped another notch in volume. She still didn’t see Ram or Kode.
She was halfway to the kitchen, looking for a snack, when voices carried.
Alejandra’s first.
Low. Flat. No patience left in it.
“I’m tellin’ you, Mel. Don’t do this to yourself again.”
Kait slowed.
She stayed where she was, just out of sight.
Melanie laughed softly—nervous, hopeful. “You don’t know. It felt different.”
Alejandra snorted. “It always does when he needs somethin’.”
“No, listen,” Melanie said quickly. “He was talking to me way more than usual. I know he missed me. He—”
“He fucked you and then had you give him a report,” Alejandra cut in. “That’s not the same thing.”
Kait squinted. She really didn’t like hearing that.
Her thumb brushed the stitching of her brand-new Danish flag patch without her realizing it.
There was a pause.
Melanie’s voice dropped. “He didn’t kick me out right away this time.”
Alejandra sighed, tired. “’Right away’? Ay, mija… that’s how low your bar is now? He took longer to kick you out?”
Kait leaned her shoulder lightly against the wall, steadied herself. Forced her grip to loosen.
Melanie pushed on. “I just— I don’t know. It feels like things are changin’. Like he’s… softer.”
Alejandra laughed once, sharp. “Softer? Tonta.”
“He seemed really curious,” Melanie insisted. “About what’s been goin’ on. About everyone… Especially Toast.”
Kait’s jaw set hard.
Alejandra didn’t answer right away.
Then, quieter: “He asked about her?” She remembered Diablo saying he thinks Lane likes Kait.
A flicker—fast, unwanted—cut through Kait’s chest.
Melanie hesitated. “Yeah. He wanted to know what she’s been up to. Where she’s been.”
That did it.
The nerve.
Heat climbed up Kait’s spine, sharp and hot, but she didn’t move. Didn’t breathe any louder.
Alejandra scoffed. “But did he ask you about you? How you’re doing?”
Melanie didn’t answer right away.
“Mel,” Alejandra said, gentler now, “he’s never been good to you. And I hate how he’s got you wrapped around his finger.”
Silence stretched.
Then Melanie, smaller: “I love him.”
Alejandra didn’t argue that part. “I know. But he doesn’t —”
“Don’t say that. He’s just always stressed,” Melanie added. “You can tell. I just wanna be there for him.”
Kait closed her eyes for a brief second.
Not because it hurt.
Because it pissed her off that it mattered at all.
Alejandra’s voice hardened again. “Yeah. Just make sure you change the sheets before you leave, right? Who says that?”
Another pause.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part,” Melanie said quietly.
Alejandra exhaled. “You need to have a little more dignity. He’s gonna leave you cryin’ again. Everytime he comes into a room, you leave crying.”
That’s not true.
Kait pushed off the wall before either of them could turn.
She moved down the hallway without a sound, grabbed her gloves, slid them on, and headed for the door.
The Dirty Alley was winding down.
Marilyn Manson’s Dopeshow thumped low. Girls were scattered through the room—barefoot now, heels abandoned under tables or kicked beneath the stage. A couple sat cross-legged on the floor counting tips, bills spread like poker hands. Someone laughed too loud. Someone else argued with Ernie near the bar about closing tabs and no, you can’t have one more.
Two guys lingered near the rail, drunk and sticky-eyed, pretending they hadn’t been told twice already to leave.
Kait stood near the office door, watching the room with practiced patience.
“Last call means last call,” Kait snapped from where she was. Some guy begging Sunshine for one more private dance.
Sunshine felt more confident knowing Kait was watching. “You need to fuck off already.”
He slurred something romantic and tragic.
Ernie barked, “Out. Now.”
That’s when Blaze came in.
“Ya’ll need a hand with the rest?” he said. Not loud. Not announcing himself. Just there—boots steady, hat on point and eyes already finding Kait.
Sunshine noticed him first, because Sunshine always noticed Blaze.
“Shit,” Kait said, more observation than greeting. “Déjà vu. Did Chugs change his mind?”
Blaze nodded once. “Yeah right. What you up to?”
“Wrapping up,” said Kait going behind the bar and pouring Blaze a shot. “What’s up, Kowboy?”
Sunshine approached and sat next to Blaze. “The rooms are still available if you wanted a private dance.”
“I’m here for her, sweetheart. Next time”
Sunshine shrugged, accepting it. “Figures.”
She turned back to the girls. “It’s not gonna multiply if you keep counting, Jojo. Go change and let’s get the fuck out.”
Blaze took his vodka shot and handed Kait hers. “You gotta start drinking whiskey, Toast. Fuckin’ aye,” he said making a face.
Kait took her shot. “I don’t know about that.”
She glanced at the room one last time—at Sunshine corralling dancers, at Ernie locking the register, at the girls coming out wearing sweats and jean jackets like they were costumes.
“Church’s at the ranch, tonight so I just came to grab ya. We got about an hour.”
“Oh, okay. Shit, can’t remember last time I was there.”
“You should spend the night, we can ride horses in the morning like when we were kids.”
“That sounds nice.” She came around the bar and said bye to some of the girls and they went outside.
She swung a leg over her bike. “Kolton okay?”
“Hangin’ in there,” Blaze said. “Randy’s there watching him.”
Engines came on and they were on their way.
The Hedrick Ranch sat farther out than Kait remembered.
Or maybe it just felt that way at night.
Blaze cut his engine first. Kait followed parking next to him. All the bikes that were missing at the Nest were now there. Even the Hardline.
Ugh.
Outside was dark and quiet, but the house lights were on.
Soft. Yellow. Not the floodlit chaos of a compound — just a lived-in place trying to pretend it was just another night.
Kait swung off her bike and pulled her gloves free.
She’d been here a hundred times growing up. Summers spent running half-wild across this land, dust in her hair, sunburnt shoulders, Kolton and Blaze not much bigger than her then. Horses in the distance. Randy and Tammy yelling for them to stay out of the irrigation ditch. Phil’s funeral by the creek.
Back then, the ranch felt endless.
Now it felt… contained.
Blaze watched her take it in. “Been a while.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Feels smaller.”
He nodded. “It don’t just feel like it. We sold a big chunk of it.”
They walked toward the house.
“That sucks.”
The porch light hummed faintly. A screen door creaked in the breeze. Somewhere off to the side, a dog barked once, then settled.
Kait slowed.
Through the front window, she caught sight of Kolton. “Jesus…” she said looking at the bruises on his face. He wasn’t standing.
He sat back in a chair pulled near the table, posture stiff, he winced when he adjusted. His face was turned slightly away, but even from here she could see the damage — the bruising, the way he held himself like everything hurt all the time now.
The door opened.
Randy nodded once at Blaze, then at Kait. “Glad you made it.”
She nodded back. “It’s nice to be here again.”
“It’s nice to have you here again,” he said, stepping aside.
Inside, the house smelled like cigarettes and dinner.
Lane was already there.
Leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, kutte on. Watching nothing and everything at the same time.
His eyes found hers immediately.
Didn’t soften.
Didn’t harden.
Just acknowledged.
Kait broke the look first.
She stepped fully inside, the door closing behind her with a quiet finality.
Church hadn’t started yet.
But everyone knew it was coming.
And the ranch — the place that once held summers and dust and laughter — held its breath.
Kait turned her head and spotted Kolton.
The kitchen was lit but subdued. One overhead light, dimmed low. Coffee sat untouched on the counter. A half-empty ashtray by the sink.
Kolton was at the table.
Not slouched. Not sprawled. Sitting upright, shoulders squared despite the obvious pain, one arm braced against the edge like it was the only thing keeping him steady. His face was a roadmap of reds and purples now, swelling mostly gone but the damage still loud.
She crossed the room without hesitation.
“Hey,” she said quietly.
Kolton looked up. His jaw tightened. “You took your time.”
She ignored the tone and leaned in just enough to keep it between them. “How you doin’?”
He shrugged.
She nodded once. “Kyle okay?”
Kolton’s expression shifted—just a notch. “Loraine’s got him. CPS is circlin’ around. Wouldn’t let LeeAnn take him home after the hospital.”
Kait exhaled slowly through her nose. “Jesus, but he’s okay, his arm?”
Kolton watched her closely. “That all you wanna talk about?”
She straightened, voice firm but low. “For now, yes.”
That stopped him.
Kolton’s fingers curled against the tabletop. “Kait—”
She stepped back before he could answer.
Across the room, the rest of them were already set.
Ram leaned against the counter near the fridge, arms and boots crossed. Watching, quiet.
Mack stood near the window, half-turned toward the yard like he’d rather be outside, hands in his pockets, jaw tight.
Klaus sat at the far end of the table, posture straight, hands folded, eyes sharp. He gave Kait a single nod—acknowledgment.
Don came into the kitchen from living room, coffee cup in hand, presence filling the space without him having to say a word. He nodded at Kait and Blaze and knew they were ready.
Lane followed and stood near the hall. Just far enough back to have a full view.
Kait felt his eyes on her but didn’t turn.
Randy cleared his throat softly. “Alright.”
The room settled. Some pulled out chairs or shifted into place. Kode came out of the bathroom and sat next to Kait. “Sup, Toast?”
Kait gave him a quick wink.
“Alright,” he said, setting his coffee down on the counter. “Let’s get to it.”
The room settled.
Blaze pushed off the wall first. “Me and Lane were out earlier lookin’ for Luis. Couldn’t snatch him—but we found where he’s at.”
Lane nodded once. “Apartment complex in Mathis. Reyes turf.”
Mack shifted near the window. “Why is that idiot with Reyes?”
“Cause he’s Mexican,” said Ram.
Kode snorted. Kait cleared her throat not to laugh.
Randy grunted. “That makes no sense.”
Lane shot a glance at Kolton. Kait noticed.
Randy grunted. “Why would they hide him? He’s a nobody.”
Silence stretched.
Lane deflated. “You wanna tell ’em,” Lane said evenly, “or you want me to?”
Every head turned.
Kolton’s jaw worked once. He didn’t look at Lane. Didn’t look at Kait either.
“He sold me blow,” Kolton said.
A murmur rippled through the room.
“Goddamn it, Kolton.” Don asked calmly.
Kait’s eyes locked on Kolton.
Everything makes sense now.
Kolton nodded once. “Yeah, I didn’t know.”
“Well, that’s why,” said Klaus looking at Kait. “Talamantes moves blow in all of southern Texas.”
She nodded slowly appreciating the info.
Ram swore under his breath. Mack went still.
“I guess Luis is worth protecting now. Must be useful to them somehow,” Blaze said.
“Selling blow to a Krait MC patched member. Yeah, I’m sure he’s pretty fucking useful to them,” Don said.
“I’m sorry, dad—”
Don hit the table. “Don’t fucking ‘dad’ me at table,” he said through teeth.
“Sorry, King.”
Don didn’t raise his voice. “You brought Reyes closer than they already were.”
Kolton met his eyes. “Wasn’t my intention, Prez.”
Don held his gaze. “Don’t matter.”
The room went quiet again.
Kolton shifted in his chair, pain flashing across his face. “I didn’t think it’d follow me back here.”
Don’s voice was flat. “It always does.”
Lane straightened. “I can stay,” he said. Flat. Final. “Till we find Luis.”
A few heads turned.
“Huntsville’s covered,” he added. “Diablo’s runnin’ point.”
Kait didn’t miss a beat.
“We can handle it.”
Lane looked at her, eyebrows lifting slowly. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” she said evenly. “We can handle finding Luis. You should be in Huntsville. You’re doing so well over there.”
Lane’s jaw tightened. He glanced around the table. No one wanted to touch whatever they just set up.
“I’ve been after Talamantes longer than you’ve had your patch,” he said. “If there’s anyone here who knows how they operate—”
“Three years…,” Kait cut in. “So for over three years you’ve been doing what? Allowing them to sell their garbage in our town? I wouldn’t brag.”
The room went still.
Don didn’t interrupt.
Lane stared at her, then stepped forward, closing the distance. He planted both palms flat on the table, leaning in.
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talkin’ to?”
Ram let out a low whistle. Mack dropped his gaze. Blaze didn’t move an inch.
Kait pushed back her chair and stood. She stepped in close, placed both hands on the table, and met him head-on.
“We’ve managed just fine without you,” she said quietly. “Huntsville needs you more than Dryden.”
That pissed him off.
Lane scoffed. “You been here what—two days? And you think you know what this town needs?”
Kait didn’t blink. “I know it doesn’t need cocaine dealers.”
Don finally spoke. “All right. Enough.”
No one sat back down right away.
Lane didn’t look away. And then he caught it—the faintest lift at the corner of her mouth. Not a smile. A challenge.
Something in his expression shifted.
“We’re not doin’ this halfway,” Don continued. “Luis hurt Kyle. That puts him on the wrong side of every line we got.”
Kolton’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak.
“We will find him,” Don said. “And we will all work together.”
He looked around the room. One by one. Letting it land.
Ram nodded once. Mack shifted his weight, already thinking through angles. Klaus folded his hands, calm but focused. Blaze crossed his arms, solid.
Kait gracefully sat back down, switching to Perfect Krait Mode.
“This is about Kyle,” Don finished. “And about keepin’ this town ours.”
He straightened, signaling the end.
“That’s church.”
Church broke apart without ceremony.
Boots shifted. Conversations splintered into half-starts and stops that never quite found their footing.
Kait reached in her pockets for her gloves.
Kolton watched her from the table, jaw tight. “You don’t gotta leave right away.”
She paused, just long enough to acknowledge it.
“Oh yes, I do,” she said.
Blaze stepped up beside her, easy but searching. “You sure you don’t wanna stay? Ride horses in the morning. Like old times.”
For a split second, something crossed her face.
Then it was gone.
“Snake Eyes is too busy,” she said.
Blaze nodded. Didn’t push.
“I was hoping we could talk,” said Kolton in a low voice.
Kait pulled on her gloves, shouldered her kutte. “Not here.”
“I don’t want you riding alone,” said Don behind her.
“I’ll come with,” said Mack and the Kode put up his hand saying he will also come with.
“Okay. Well, later y’all,” she said.
Lane stood across the room, silent. Caught the new Danish flag on her kutte as she said bye to everyone but him.
Outside, the night was wide and quiet. The ranch lights glowed behind her, warm and unreachable.
Lane walked out on the porch and lit up a cigarette. He watched her nod at something Mack said and put her helmet on. She swung onto her bike and fired it up.
The engine cut clean through the stillness.
She rode out without looking back.
The tension didn’t ease.
It sank in.
