Dee Pierce. Decker Pierce. Dean Pierce.

Ember.

Deeds.

Pappy.

Disbelief surges through me and my pulse starts to race. There’s air everywhere around me, but I can’t seem to pull any of it into my lungs. The similarities are eerily similar.

Too similar . . .

My heart’s screaming NO! Fuck no! This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. And my head’s a tornado of images. Her freckled nose. Pappy’s white and dotted skin, at least from what’s visible under his assortment of Irish pride tattoos. Her red hair fanned across my chest. The same fiery red hair that Deed’s always has spiked in some kamikaze style, and that identifies Pappy from a hundred yard away. I think back on Ember asleep on my pillow looking like an angel. And then I see her father looking like Satan incarnate, the entire right side of his cut covered with the names of his fallen brother, but none of the names of all the brothers he’s dispatched himself.

Griz says what I can’t. He shakes his head and shoves the photos down the table. “No. There’s got to be another explanation.” Then something must occur to him, because he swipes up her birth certificate and examines it. I watch and cling to the hope that this is all one big practical fucking joke. But Griz tarnishes that spark of hope when his shoulders deflate, and he whispers, “Tessa Owens” under his breath like it means something to him.

That hollow feeling in my gut grows wider and deep like a damn abyss.

“Awe . . . fuck, Telly Girl, what did you do?”

“What?” I steal it from his hand. “Who’s Telly?”

“Tessa Owens.”

He vigorously rubs his forehead, as if he’s fighting some internal battle. When his gaze finally meets mine, it’s guarded. “I think after you hear what I’m gotta say you need to push pause, and think on this. No matter what these fuckers”—he points at Whiz and Taz—“say, you know this girl better than anyone.”

Heat climbs up my body. “Just tell me!” I shoot to my feet and start pacing the room. Run my hand over my face.

“I knew Tessa way back. Back before Cap and I split from the Greenbacks. Knew her real good because she was a brother’s old lady.”

My throat begins to close up. I stop pacing for a second and look at him. “Pappy’s?”

He shakes his head. “No. Pappy’s been with Vaughn since they were kids.”

“Then how can this make sense?”

“She was Smoke’s old lady.”

I open my mouth, but he keeps talking. “Smoke did a couple years for assault. While he was in lock up, some of the brothers talked some shit. Said Pappy was takin’ real good care of Telly, if you know what I mean.”

I grip the back of Cap’s chair so hard with both hands that my fingers dig deep into the leather. “So it’s true?” A shot of pain awakens in my chest and pulses outward.

“It’s possible,” Griz replies.

I throw the chair across the room. Shove the heavy table forward. Then panting with rapid breaths, I lean on the table. “She told me she didn’t know who her father was.”

“She lied,” Taz growls.

A thick silence descends as I shake with a kaleidoscope of emotion—doubt, shock, and so many others. Rage, because if this is true then every moment I shared with Doll, every happy memory she’s given me will vanish like smoke, mean nothing, and she’ll have fixed me, healed me, only to cut me open all over again. Faith, because as I replay every second with her, the good, the bad, and the incredibly perfect, I pray she has an explanation for the unexplainable. A reason I should believe the unbelievable. Everything I’ve come to know about her battles the doubt circling through my head and my heart, like they’re fighting an epic war.

I ask Griz, “Is this what it looks like?”

Say no.

Throwing his hands up, Taz hisses, “What the fuck more proof do you need? She’s one of them!”

My entire body strings tight. I keep my gaze on Griz and wait for his answer.

“God’s honest truth, I don’t think that girl’s got a rotten bone in her body. Maybe Pappy’s got something on her, and he’s forcin’ her to do this.”

“His own daughter?” Edge says with doubt.

“Wouldn’t put it past him,” Griz replies. “Killed a man point blank in front of Deed’s when the boy was no more than eight years old. Had a gun in that kid’s hand since he was a teen. Had him killin’ for the club before he was even out of high school.”

“And yet you all think he had nothin’ to do with Cap.” This from Taz.

“Totally different,” Griz replies. To me, he says, “Gotta be another explanation.”

Taz comes toward me, lowers his voice, but I can hear the restrained animal behind it. “She shows up here and latches on to D. The second she figures out he’s not the one in charge, she sets her sights on you. Not a fuckin’ coincidence.”

I turn away and stare into the wood of the table, focus on the swirl patterns in it, instead of his words.

“I know your head’s spinnin’ ‘cause, yeah, she makes your dick rock solid. But brother . . . someone is spillin’ info to the GBs and she was standin’ right the fuck behind you when you told us about the witness.”

“So that makes her the snitch?”

“No, her DNA does. And the fact that she showed up here days after Cap got shot desperate for a place to stay. I guarantee if Dozer hadn’t stepped up, it would have been him all up in her pussy right now and not you.”

A hurricane of fury crashes into me and I launch myself at him. Grabbing his cut, my right hook connects. Fire spreads across my knuckles. The punch sends Taz staggering back a step.

Edge and Griz grab hold of me and yank me back.

Edge shouts at Taz, “Been back a day and already sick of hearin’ you run your mouth.” I throw their arms off me, and pace with my hands around my head fighting not to see every minute with Doll in a different light. Warped and distorted, with her as a fucking spy for another club and not the girl who’s acted like she’s fallen for me just as hard as I have for her.

“You’ve said your bit. Now, shut the fuck up and let’s figure out what to do with what we know,” Edge spits at Taz. Then he stops me, grabs the back of my neck, and makes me meet his gaze. “Not gonna lie to you, it looks bad, brother, but one thing I know for sure is one side of the story isn’t all there ever is. Go get her and we’ll see what she knows.”

Taz wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. Blood smears down his arm. He spits more of it on the floor. “You’re too close to her to see her for what she is.” He gestures toward Edge. “Just like the last piece of pussy you were wrapped up in. The one that sent him to fuckin’ rot.”

Boisterous laughter and rock music follows me up the stairwell, the party below hitting its peak. Every single guitar cord and jovial voice that rings out grates on my nerves like nails screaming down a chalkboard.

Each one a reminder that the world as I know it hasn’t changed, only my view of it has.

When I get to the second floor, my gaze immediately lands on the wall where less than an hour ago, Ember and I attacked each other. Both of us feverish and impatient for the kind of release we know only the other can give. Like two sex addicts falling off the wagon.

My dick comes to life as I recall the firestorm of lust we were both lost in. The kiss that flamed hot enough to scorch the walls. The hitch of her warm breath as I slid just the tip inside her, and the way her tight heat gripped me when I buried myself in deep.

Fuck . . . What I wouldn’t give to go back to that moment. Take my time with her, get rid of Taz and Whiz when they came to drag me away, and live in ignorance for another hour or two.

Instead, I have to face the fact that Ember may not be what she seems. I have to haul her to Church like she’s on trial, where she’ll be treated like she’s guilty until proven innocent, and not the other way around.