Everyone stares at me, but no one dares oppose me. Not unless they want to get run over on this war path I’m on. I’ll do whatever, kill whoever I need to in order to get this done. I just need to be organized, have a clear plan. They started this, but I’m sure as hell going to finish it.

“That’s your solution?” Chopper demands. “Throw money at it and hope it works out?”

“Pop –”

“No. They messed with one of ours. We shouldn’t be sitting around this table talking about shit. We should be getting shit done. You’re the president of this club, that’s your woman, and the best you can come up with is a reward for information?”

“You’d rather I go around killing people, hoping I got the right one? I need to make sure. I need to have a solid plan.”

“I’ve sat at this table and been quiet for a long time. I did that because you made good decisions. I trusted you to do what’s best for everyone, for the club. I can’t keep quiet on this.”

“What do you want me to do?” I ask in exasperation. “What would you do?”

“I’d send a clear message that no one fucks with the Dealers—not the members, not their families. You bust enough heads, you’re sure to flush out a rat.”

“And where do you suggest I start, huh? We’re in a pretty good place with everyone right now. I go on a killing spree, I start wars with people who have nothing to do with this. I don’t need that on top of everything. That’s only going to take attention away from this. Finding Raven’s attacker is more important than an unnecessary war.”

“Fine,” he relents. “But do you know how many low-lifes you’re going to attract with that money?”

“We just have to weed out the useful stuff. The prospects can help with that.”

“Okay. We’ll do this your way.”

“Anyone else have anything to say?” I look around the table but no one speaks up, so I continue. “Good. Now, next order of business.”

Chopper is still sneering at me. He’s my father, but he’s not the president of this club anymore. I allowed him to have his say, but now he needs to step back in line. I convey that message in my stare, but I know I’m my father’s son. He stares back unwaveringly, and I can sense the tension coming from the other men at the table. I begin to think he won’t back down, but he nods in concession and leans back in his chair. Thank God. I wouldn’t have enjoyed teaching my father a lesson in obedience.

***Raven***

My eyes snap open and I stare into the darkness of the room. My pulse is racing and my breathing is ragged. Sweat is trickling down my face and my hands are clammy. I reach for Gage, but he’s not in bed. Sitting up, I try to calm my breathing. It’s not working.

I throw off the covers and head for the door. In the bar, I find Ron and Booker. They notice my panicked state and jump to their feet.

“You okay, Raven?” Ron asks.

“Where’s Gage?”

“He’s in the chapel.”

I eye the big double doors for a second before I head in that direction. Ron grabs me before I can reach them.

“You can’t go in there. I can’t let you go in there.”

“Why?”

“It’s not allowed. I’m sorry.”

“Let me go.”

“Raven –”

I pull my hand from his, plant it in his chest, and push him away. He falls back, grabbing at air to find something to hold onto. I don’t wait to see what happens. I take off running and burst through the doors. Everyone in the room turns to me in surprise. I survey the table before my gaze lands on Gage. Our eyes meet and he immediately leaves his chair. I run to him and he sweeps me up in his arms.

“Get the fuck out,” he growls at the men in the room.

As he sits with me on his lap, I listen to the shuffling sounds of everyone leaving. I tighten my good arm around him, nestling my face into his neck.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“I...I had a dream.”

“What was it about?”

“I saw it.”

“I don’t understand,” he says. “Saw what?”

“I was tied to my bed.”

His body becomes rigid and he pulls me closer. I feel the tears beginning as I remember the fear I felt in the dream.

“What else did you see?”

“Not much. It was like I was in and out of consciousness. Just glimpses of the room. I...I remember being scared.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here.”

“Do you think it’s a memory?” I ask. “Or just a bad dream?”

“It could be a memory. Your lab tests show you didn’t have much of the drugs in your system.”

“So, I could remember more then?”

“I don’t know, doll. Don’t worry about it. Let’s get you back to bed.”

“’Kay. I’m sorry I interrupted church.”

“Don’t be. You need me, you call me or come get me. I don’t care what I’m doing. Got it?”

“Got it.” He strokes my cheek, and that’s when I see the bandage on the knuckles of his right hand. “What happened to your hand?”

“New tat,” he says as he unwraps the bandage.

I take his hand and inspect it once it’s removed. Each knuckle is inked with a single, bold letter – R-A-V-E-N.

“You tattooed my name on your hand?” I ask in shock.

“When I find the fucker who hurt you, I want him to see your name every time my fist connects with his face.”

His jaw begins to twitch and I see a fire burning in his eyes. No, not fire. More like ice—icy, blue orbs of death. I swallow hard, thinking about what he’s going to do when he finds his mark.

He takes me back to his room and places me on my side of the bed. I watch him as he undresses then turns off the lamp and climbs in next to me. Preparing for our nightly ritual, I roll onto my side and he pulls me into his arms, my back to him. He doesn’t know that I know, but he doesn’t sleep well. Every night, he lies there until exhaustion wins out and sleep finally claims him.

I know because I do the same. I lie here every night, thinking about what happened, where my attacker is, and if he’s coming back for me. I think about Gage and the things he’ll have to do to find him and what he’ll do when he finally does. I think about my father. I think about Laurelyn. We’re both trying to mend fences, but I don’t think I’ll ever trust her. Then I think about Dani and start to feel better. It’s with her on my mind that I’m finally able to fall asleep. Always before Gage, though, and it makes me feel so guilty for being the cause.

“Gage?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you sorry?”

“Sorry for what, babe?”

“Me. Getting involved with me.”

“Raven,” he says quietly. “Turn around.”

I move carefully onto my back, favoring my shoulder, and lower my gaze as he flips the light back on. He positions himself on top of me, cupping my cheek.

“Look at me.”

My eyes meet his reluctantly as he strokes my cheek with his thumb.

“There are a lot of things that I’m sorry about. You are not one of them. You hear me?”

“You should be. Look what I’ve caused.”

“You want to know what you’ve caused? Since I met you, I’m not a miserable motherfucker anymore, moving from one woman to the next and not giving a fuck. I didn’t even realize I was miserable until you came along. You made me want more...better.”

His eyes wander over my face and the adoration in his gaze is almost too much for me to bear. He can’t feel that way. He’s just saying it all to make me feel better. If this hadn’t happened, he probably would have had his fill of me by now and moved on to the next. He’s a good man. Despite all he’s done and what he thinks of himself, there’s a lot of good in him. For him to stick by me through all this, he’s better than most men. This whole situation is just going to push him farther into the darkness that he’s always tried to protect me from – that place where he becomes Reaper, and Gage no longer exists.

“You’re more,” he continues. “You’re better...and you’re mine. No matter what.”

“But –”

“But nothing. The answer to your question is ‘no’. I’m not sorry, and I would do it all again. I would still make you mine. I know it’s rough now, but we’ll get through this...together. Okay?”