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“You’re welcome.”

Sam took a sip a beer. “The truth is that while I might’ve been Marley’s girlfriend, I wasn’t his blood family or next of kin. That was made really clear to me when we got to the hospital. I had no say over what happened to him. The next morning his parents came down and took his body back home.”

“Where was home?”

“Michigan or Milwaukee.” She shrugged. “Marley never really said. He didn’t care for his family that much.”

I realized that he’d never told me exactly where he was from, either. I think his answer had been a cryptic “around.”

“You didn’t go back for the funeral?”

“As much as I wanted to be able to say good-bye, I really couldn’t afford to travel or be away from work.” With a sheepish expression, she added, “Besides, I really wasn’t welcome. His parents never liked me.”

“That fucking blows.”

“Yeah, it does,” she said, and then gulped down several sips of beer. “In the end, I know how I felt about him and how he felt about me. Standing over his grave and throwing roses onto his casket wouldn’t change that. You know?”

Although I nodded, I still wanted that closure. Even if there was no way in hell he could hear me, I wanted to be able to say the things to Marley that would clear my conscience. But as I glanced across the table, I realized that I still had a chance to make things right. “There’s something I really need to say to you.”

“Oh?”

I nodded and then proceeded to drain the rest of my beer. After swiping the back of my mouth with my hand, I stared into Sam’s dark eyes. All the guilt over Marley that I had been feeling the last week bubbled to the surface, and I began speaking it out loud. I talked about Preacher Man’s murder and then Case’s. When I finished, I rubbed the stubble on my chin and shook my head. “Jesus, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

“Because I’m a woman or because you’re not used to talking about your feelings to anyone outside the MC?”

“Both really. As a hang-around, Marley wasn’t supposed to know shit about club business, and as a woman, you’re sure as hell not supposed to know.”

“But how can I understand what you’re talking about unless you’re honest with me?”

I held my hands up. “Look, all you need to understand is at the end of the day, I’m so fucking sorry for what happened to Marley.”

She stared at me for a moment, unblinking and unmoving, as if she was shocked that something so sincere could have come from me. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“That day . . . the way you looked at me after you found Marley. I know you blamed me, too.”

“But I was in shock, Bishop. I might’ve thought the Raiders were at fault that day, but not you. And I still don’t think it was your fault.”

“In some ways, no, it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the one who shot him, but at the same time, it was because of bad blood between my club and another. If he’d never met up with me, he would still be alive today.”

“It was an accident, Bishop. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she argued.

“Once again, you’re being naive.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “Then explain it to me.”

“I should have realized with the direction our club was taking, things could get dangerous at the run. I should never have let him come.”

Sam’s brow lined in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘the direction of your club’?”

At that point, I didn’t see how it could hurt to explain a few things to her. “You know what a one-percent MC is, right?”

“Yeah. A little bit. Like from TV.”

I laughed at where her limited view came from. “So you know that while ninety-nine percent of the clubs out there are full of decent, law-abiding citizens, the other one percent aren’t?” When she nodded, I added, “Well, since the time it was started back in ’sixty-seven, the Raiders have been a one-percent club.”

“Your club does illegal stuff?”

“You could say that.” I motioned the waitress over for another pitcher of beer. “You could also say that because of a lot of bad shit that has gone down in the last couple of years, we’re moving to be legitimate.”

Surprise flashed in Sam’s eyes at my admission. “You are?”

I nodded. “We had it approved by the original chapter when we were in Virginia.”

Samantha appeared almost dumbfounded by my admission. “Just how are you doing that?”

“Can’t tell you that, sugar. I’m already overstepping my bounds enough as it is.”

Sam nibbled her lip before asking, “Did Marley know about you guys going legit?”

I shook my head. “As I said, he was just a hang-around. My brothers could have had me by the balls for telling him club business.” I gave her a pointed stare. “Just like they could for me telling you what I have.”

A nervous laugh escaped her. “Like I’m going to tell anyone.”

“You sure as hell better not. I’d hate to have to kill you.” As soon as I said the words, I grimaced. “Sorry. That was a badly timed joke.”

“It’s okay.” The waitress appeared with a new pitcher and refilled our beers. When we were once again alone, Sam leaned closer to me. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but I need to know for my sake . . . and for Marley’s. What were the reasons behind why he was in the wrong place at the wrong time?”