After my shower, I’d dressed in black jeans and a black shirt, then slumped down in my chair. I must’ve fallen asleep. I turned my attention to Jane Doe.

Still the same.

“You okay, Styx.” Beauty’s voice pulled me ’round, her brows drawn down tight.

I nodded and signed, You good with cleaning her up? Tank explain?

Beauty edged closer, blond hair down, dressed in tight black jeans and a black Hangmen tank, her leather vest reading Property of Tank on the back.

She stopped at the side of the bed and caressed the bitch’s head. My body froze, my stomach churning with possessiveness. Didn’t like anyone but me touching her. Suddenly felt like ripping Beauty’s arm out of its socket.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I had to stop myself from tackling Beauty outta the way.

What the f**k, man? Get it the f**k together! I told myself.

Beauty fixed her blue eyes on me. She saw the conflict in my f**kin’ psycho glare. I was sure of it. “She’s beautiful.” Her forehead lined. “She just turned up outta nowhere, injured?”

Jerking my chin, I ordered Tank to split. He nodded, pulled the door shut, and I stood against the wall and signed, She turned up bleeding, dying and covered in dirt. She needs cleaning. Not gonna do it. I only trust you. That’s why you’re here. She can’t leave yet. Too many Feds on our backs. Need to find out who the f**k she is and why she’s here.

I could see the questions swirling in her blue eyes, but she knew not to dig. Beauty: best of all the old ladies. Knew when to shut her f**kin’ mouth, unlike most of the sluts who littered the bar.

“I’ll clean her, change the sheets, and get her some clothes. I’ll call you when I’m done if you’d like.”

Tipping my chin in agreement, I left Beauty with Jane Doe, her eyes burning holes in my back. I headed to the lounge, signaling to Ky to join me.

Ky tore himself away from Tiff and Jules sucking on each other’s tits, giving the boys a  p**n  floorshow, and he followed me into my office.

“S’up, Styx? The bitch good?” Ky asked, shutting the door.

Shrugging, I sat down behind my desk. “St-still not s-sure. B-b-beauty’s cl-cl-cleaning.”

He slapped a hand on my shoulder without saying a word and sat down. “You wanna talk?”

“St-stays between us, r-r-right?”

“Right.”

I paused, gathering my suspicions. “W-w-we have a r-r-rat.”

Ky froze and spoke through gritted teeth. “You certain?”

I threw him a single nod. “Th-that or a c-covert agent maybe?”

“Shit.” Nothing a brother hates more than a rat. “You’re always right over shit like this, just like your old man was, f**kin’ born intuition. Any guess who?”

“N-n-not yet. S-s-some f-fucker told the f-f-fuckin’ m-m-mystery supplier about the C-commi deal, n-n-no two ways ’b-b-bout it.” I took a deep breath, loosening my throat, but the more pissed I became, the tighter that rope pulled. Giving up, I decided to sign. Just have to work out who and why and then send them to the boatman.

“Plan?”

Not yet. Gonna see how it plays out. But I’m watching.

Ky stood, pacing. “Who’d do it? I trust every one of these brothers, every f**kin’ single one. It’s gotta be a groupie or a nomad. Shit!”

I stared out the small window and shrugged. He could be right. Something just didn’t feel right. Something big was going down.

Ky swiveled his chair away from my desk and sat on it backward, arms resting on the backrest. “You and me never would rat. Tank, Viking, AK and Rider—in for life, no question.”

Rider? You certain? I signed.

Ky shook his head. “Not a chance he’s the rat. He’s got no family but us. Best damn rider we got. Does anything asked, always stitching us up after fights, works next to me in deals, goes on any run given, never questions shit. He doesn’t deserve our doubt just ’cause he’s young or that he’s quiet. You’re only twenty-six, brother, twenty-five when you got Prez. No one questioned your age or the fact that you don’t talk. Brother may only be twenty-four but was recruited just before twenty and been a f**kin’ golden asset ever since.”

I jerked my chin.

Point made.

Ky kept going. “Smiler—lifer. Bull—loyal as f**k. That only leaves Flame, who we both know is f**kin’ psycho. The only thing keeping him from murdering a packed mall on a Saturday is his love for this club. Only leaves Pit or the new hang arounds. They got no intel. Never get word on details. Brothers are good with Pit, wanna patch him in soon.” He shook his head and hit the back of the chair in frustration. “FUCK! Who could it be? Gotta be Feds or some cunt—tapping cells or using hidden surveillance.”

For once, I didn’t give a f**k about any of it. My mind was back in my room with Jane Doe.

A hand slammed on my desktop. “Styx! Christ, man. Get it the f**k together!” Ky was scowling right in my face.

My eyes narrowed and he tried to hide his flinch. Don’t. First and only f**kin’ warning, I signed.

He pushed out his palms and backed the hell off. “Fine. Look, your head’s not straight with the bitch here. Let me do some groundwork, set some feelers out under the radar. Keep it just between us.”

I exhaled. Yeah. Need to know who’s new to running guns in Texas.

Standing up, I walked to the door, turning back to sign, Going back to my place. Beauty should be done by now. Not waiting all f**kin’ night.

Heading through the lounge, around the back of the compound, I climbed the stairs and knocked at my door. Pushing it open, I saw Beauty was in my bathroom, washing her hands. She looked up as I walked in.

You done? I signed.

“She’s clean. I’ll bring clothes tomorrow after my shift at the store, she’s got on a robe for now.” Walking beside the bed, she looked up at me, shaking her head. “She’s slim, Styx. Too friggin’ slim if you ask me. The girl don’t eat shit by the looks of her.”

I finally let myself check out the bitch on the bed. Damn. She knocked the breath right outta me: smooth complexion, freshly washed and dried black hair free of blood and dirt.

Hell. It had to be her…

Beauty gathered her things. With a small smile, she paused to say, “She looks like Snow White, Styx. Dark hair, pale skin, red lips. She’s f**kin’ stunning, not a scratch of makeup, but still looks like that. Shit! Not fair! No wonder the club sluts are bitching ’bout you keeping her back here to yourself. They’ve got f**k all on her.”