At least that wasn’t a lie.

Not really.

“You should come down,” he said.

I should.

And stay.

Far, far away from all this insanity.

But then who would give treats to Essence’s cats?

And how would I possibly run into Rush Allen again in Phoenix?

Right.

Reminder.

Not thinking about Rush Allen.

“I am. For the ceremony,” I reminded my brother.

“Earlier.”

“I got work.”

“Yeah?”

Ugh.

“Yeah.”

“You got a guy?”

He sounded like that hurt to say.

“Dude, I heard Maddox going at you and Molly. Do not sound like you’re about to hurl at the thought your sister might be getting some.”

“Okay, forget I brought it up.”

Another grin then I gave him a quiet, “I’m fine, Diesel.”

“Molly worries.”

Bullshit.

I was sure she did.

But that was also him.

“I’m good,” I promised (lie). “Essence is crazy. And crazy lovable. I got work that’s interesting. The cats are all getting fat and they have her wonderland of a house and garden to hang in, but they all want to be here, so I got company most of the time, even if it’s feline. But cats kick ass. So I’m happy.”

Except for Essence and her cats, that was all a lie.

I was going to hell.

“All right,” he gave in.

“And tell Molly no worries about the bridesmaid gig. I’d rather not stand in front of a yard full of people and bawl with happiness. I can do that sitting next to Erin.”

“I’ll tell her.”

“And give her a hug from me. Maddox too.”

“I’ll hug Molly. But I don’t hug Mad. I fuck him.”

I could hear that big brother tease.

I also had never got that openness from Diesel, until recently. The love he had for Maddox (and all the rest) had always been shrouded in Dude.

It was not a secret that they fucked.

It just was not out there that they fucked.

But now, he gave that love to Mad openly.

And the love he had for Mad to everybody.

So I didn’t want my brother teasing me about his sex life. If I didn’t mind it, it wouldn’t be a tease.

I was still happy he was finally at one with it.

And really, you got down to it, I didn’t mind it.

So I teased back on a cried, “Oh my God! Just shoot me!”

“I fuck Molly too.”

“Stop!”

“Need to get you a man,” he paused, “and another man.”

“I can’t even take care of a cat, D. You’re the one with the big heart. I’m the one with the desire for a kickass wardrobe.”

“My baby sister is so full of shit.”

Totally teasing.

“Go away. I need to meditate.”

“Say what?”

“Meditate.”

“When’d you start doing that?”

Around about the time my best friend was murdered.

“It clears the mind. Centers you.”

“Did you move to Boulder and not tell us?”

More grinning. “No.”

“Christ, don’t let Essence get into your head.”

“She’s the bomb diggity.”

“She’s a nut. Give her our love. I gotta go. Mad’s home. And Mol’s got dinner ready.”

“Okay, bro. Love you. Love to them. And can’t wait for the celebration.”

“Me either, baby doll. Love you back.”

“Yeah!” I heard Molly shout through D’s phone. “Love you, Rebel.”

Then I heard jostling and Maddox’s deep, rough voice came at me. “Hey, babe. You good?”

I plopped back on the bed and looked to the ceiling.

I also smiled.

“Yeah, Mad. I’m good.”

“Work good?”

I started laughing.

Nope.

Not a beach and mai tais.

I was moving to Phoenix when this was done.

I needed love, the functional kind, and theirs was the only kind of that I had.

And there was a lot of it.

“Yes, Maddox. Work is good. You?”

His voice rumbled at me.

Diesel and Maddox and Molly, they’ll lose their shit.

Hank didn’t get in there.

Eddie didn’t either.

Neither had Jimmy.

But Rush Allen, his hair, eyes and the smell of leather and fresh air and tang . . .

Damn.

I stared at my bedroom ceiling and listened to my brother’s man share his love for me.

I needed it.

So I absorbed it.

But somehow, after I’d been hijacked by a biker, I realized I needed more.

And I’d probably have to be alive in order to get it.

So yeah.

Damn.

Chew

The cunt was dead.

Dead.

Chew watched Harrietta watching Millie walking out of LeLane’s with her cart full of groceries.

The bitch was playing him with Valenzuela, with that porn director snatch, and now she was watching Millie.

Her trashy eyes did not get to watch Millie.

Oh no.

Fuck no.

The cunt was dead.

He’d only kept her around because she cooked and cleaned and didn’t mind taking his cock however he gave it.

She didn’t think he knew she was pissed at him Cammy got her throat slit?

Was she stupid?

Yeah. She was stupid.

He knew she was making moves.

Passed out after sucking back her vodka, it was all in her fucking phone.

And he was good at a follow, rarely got made, but he didn’t think she even looked to see if she had a tail.

Dumb cunt.

She was gone.

But he’d find someone else.

Women liked doing that shit for a man who provided for them.

So, his resources were running low.

He’d bounce back.

He just had to get his shit together.

He would.

He’d find a way.

It’d all be golden again once he got those bones and got Tack out of the way.

Chaos would pay big for those bones.

Huge.

And he had plans.

Crank knew where it was at.

He’d just been stupid enough to get snatch involved.

Snatch fucked everything up.

Snatch got Crank dead.

Or Tack did it, and Crank’s own brothers.

Mutiny.

It made Chew sick.

It had been near-on two decades, and if he let himself think long on it, he still could barely stop himself from hurling.

Now Chew would use Crank’s way, do it smart, all him, no snatch, tear that Club apart, fuck them up, send them reeling.

He knew just the way.

So . . .

Yeah.

Soon, it’d all be golden.

But that bitch was gone.

Millie?

No one followed Millie.

No one, but him.

Cats Sensed Her as Their Queen

Rush

That same night . . .

Rush pulled his bike up across the street from the house that shared a number with the house where Rebel Stapleton lived.

Except Rebel’s number had an added “¾.”

He’d never seen an address like that.

Now he was getting a feeling he understood it.

The house was about five blocks from the huge pad where his brother High and his woman Millie lived.

This house was like theirs, huge and on a massive lot.

It was also Pepto Bismol pink with white trim, and the entire lot looked overgrown with masses of greenery like it belonged in Florida, not the arid climate of the Mile High City.

He swung off his bike, moved across the street and jogged up the steps to a porch suffocatingly decked out in planted pots and a variety of furniture, some of that (the tables) covered in more pots or candlesticks, lanterns or other knickknacks, some of it (the chairs and lounges and swings) swathed in scarves or blankets or bright-colored pads.

He hit the bell and his body automatically jerked in surprise when he heard the loud, long, slow succession of different notes sounding like they were banged on gongs coming from inside.

He stared at the window in the door that was covered in something printed in paisley.