Not after she’d all but sided with his mother.

Fifteen years on and Lorna was still ruining his fucking life. Billie had looked at him like he was the monster and Lorna some misunderstood, slightly frail, middle-aged woman. She’d looked at him in the same way she’d looked at Blade and the Ministry guys last night—with disgust and contempt. And that hurt. He didn’t want to be an animal anymore, but he’d been lying to himself and those around him for years. He was an animal, not much better than the scum who’d tried to rape his mother. Billie was too good to ever understand where he came from and she’d be better off if he stayed the fuck away.

He could retreat into some sleazy club and lose himself inside some faceless stranger, but he got the feeling that wouldn’t work anymore. It wouldn’t be enough. Not after last night. So alcohol would have to do. He’d numb his feelings, numb the shock, the anger and the pain.

The door to The Priory was perpetually open—rain, hail or shine—so he stepped inside the familiar building and glanced around, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dimly lit interior. He marched up to the bar, brushing past a couple of obvious tourists nursing Hurricanes and giggling as if they were already half drunk after a few sips.

“Well, if it isn’t the sly dog, Cash,” Sophie said from behind the bar as he parked himself on a stool. “I heard you had a late one last night. Can I get you a drink?”

“Double shot of bourbon.” He reached for a cardboard coaster that had a fleur-de-lis cross on it (The Priory’s logo) and ripped it in half, but the action did nothing to cool his mood.

“Didn’t they teach you any manners in business school?” Sophie raised an eyebrow at him.

“Please,” he growled, ignoring her reference to his MBA. They might find it amusing that he’d gone back to school, but he’d worked damn hard to afford to and he was proud of what he’d achieved. On his own. Without anyone’s help.

She grinned. “That’s better.” And turned to get his drink. Her chirpiness grated on his nerves—he guessed it was a result of being Ajax’s new property, and he wondered whether Priest would have been happy or furious about that situation.

As she placed the glass down in front of him, he felt a presence behind him and then two bodies landed on the stools on either side of him. Ajax and Blue. He didn’t bother acknowledging them, instead downing his drink in one long gulp. “Please, can I have another?” he asked Sophie.

To her credit she didn’t say a word, but filled his glass again and handed it back.

“Isn’t it a bit early to be tossing those back?” asked Ajax by way of a greeting.

Travis turned his head just enough to glare at his old friend. “Since when did you care?”

Ajax shrugged. “True. Any progress on the Priest issue?”

“Fuck off.” He lifted his glass to his mouth, in no mood to talk business with his so-called brothers. He should have chosen another bar. What the hell had he been thinking? Truth was, he hadn’t been. For years, The Priory and the Deacons had been his safe haven, the place he went when he needed to let off steam, and it was hard to kick a habit so deeply ingrained in you.

“That’s not very nice,” Ajax said, and both he and Blue chuckled.

Travis’s grip tightened around his glass.

“Maybe the little pussy next door is refusing to put out.” Blue glanced past Travis and smirked at Ajax.

Travis slammed his glass down on the bar, his rage uncoiling even more at the way Blue spoke about Billie. After how she’d just sided with his mother, she wasn’t exactly his favorite person, but that was his grudge and it didn’t mean anyone else had a right to degrade her.

“Shut your fucking face.” He narrowed his eyes as he leaned into Blue, his fist clenching, ready to swing. “Leave her out of this.”

Ajax caught his arm as he lifted it to throw a punch. “Whatever the fuck has riled you, how about you use that anger to help us find Priest’s murderer rather than waste it on a brother.”

Blue was now on his feet, his eyebrows raised and his chin jutted out. Travis knew that stance well. If he wanted to fight, Blue would happily oblige, and likely one of them would leave The Priory on a stretcher or in a box. He sighed, shook his arm free of Ajax’s grip and pushed the heel of his hand against his forehead.

“Lorna just showed up at the gallery.”

“Jesus.” Ajax sat back on his stool and Leon relaxed, then leaned against the bar. Sophie stopped wiping the bar and stared at him. These people knew his past; they understood him more than anyone did.

“I thought she’d be six feet under by now,” Ajax added.

“No wonder you’re in a fucking mood,” Blue mused.

Hah, a mood. If that’s what this was, he’d been in it for a long time. Ever since Lorna’s actions had thrown him in jail with no one to bail him out. Yeah, he was still bitter about that.

If he hadn’t met a Deacon inside, found an ally in the most unlikely place possible, who knew what would have become of him? He’d cut all ties with his so-called mother, imagined she was dead and found a new family in the Deacons of Bourbon Street. So many things he’d done with the MC could have gotten him tossed right back in the slammer, but everything had been worth the risk because being part of the Deacons was the first time in his life he’d ever truly felt like he belonged.

“What did you do?” Ajax wanted to know.

“Told her to get the fuck out of my building or I’d make her.”

The others chuckled.

“Good to see you haven’t changed too much,” Blue said.

No, not deep inside, Travis thought. He was still a loose cannon, liable to snap the moment someone aggravated him.

“You don’t need to talk about it or anything, do you?” Ajax asked, a pained expression on his face.

Travis gave him a look like he was the one who was crazy. Had hooking up with Sophie turned him all fucking touchy-feely?

“Fuck no.” He lifted his glass and took another sip. “She’s not worth it. She’s never been worth it. We have bigger things to focus on.” Right now anything was preferable to thinking about his mother, or the fact that he’d probably just blown any chance he ever had of fucking Billie again.

“Good.” Ajax patted his jeans pocket. “Because I was going to give you my phone and tell you to call someone who cared.”

Travis couldn’t help but smile. Deep down he knew Ajax and Blue did care. Whether they wanted to or not, they cared about each other, about the Deacons and about Priest, or they wouldn’t fucking be there.

“Why don’t we go for a ride?” Blue suggested. “Clear our heads and then work out our next step.”

“You know I’m always up for that.” Ajax pushed off the stool. “You coming, Cash?”

Travis didn’t even flinch at the name he’d discarded when he left ten years ago. Instead he put down his half-full glass and pushed it back toward Sophie. “Okay.” Maybe a ride was just what the doctor ordered. It had to be better than drinking himself stupid.

Without saying much, he followed his two old friends out into the secure alley behind The Priory where they’d all been keeping their bikes. Blue and Ajax were already in their leathers, their Deacons cuts in pride of place. They climbed atop their machines and Travis realized they looked like bikers, ready to rule the road, and he looked like a nobody. No longer a businessman in his scruffy jeans and black T-shirt, yet no longer a biker. It was like he was in limbo—stuck between the only two worlds that had ever meant anything to him.

“What’s wrong?” Leon asked, glaring at him as he stood beside his bike.

“I haven’t got my leather.”

“What?” Ajax screwed up his hard face. “How the fuck did you ride into town?”

Travis shook his head. “I meant it’s next door. With the rest of my stuff. At the gallery.”