There was something about Sheena's expression that caught my attention, and it snapped me out of my funk as I remembered the real reason I was here, and it wasn't to bitch about boys. Cupping my face in my hands, I took a deep breath to center myself. If someone here was a traitor it might help if they saw me as a weak woman, someone unsure about her relationship and vulnerable. It might make them slip up. Okay, so maybe I was unsure and vulnerable, but I could use that to my advantage. I looked up and found all the women watching me sympathetically.

"I want to trust Smoke, I do, but he...he yelled at me. Embarrassed me in front of other people. In front of the slut who was trying to shove her way into our room with her two skanky friends."

"Ohhhh," Bettie sighed as she refilled my glass. "That sucks."

Cathy frowned at me and sat back on the couch next to Alisha. "Which sluts?"

I rattled off the description of Slut #1 and Slut #2, then said the name Cyclone.

At the mention of her, all of the other women hissed with displeasure. The sound was so odd, like I was in the middle of a roomful of angry cats, that I couldn't help but laugh. It was funny, or at least what passed for funny to my alcohol-hazed brain. Realizing I was drinking on an empty stomach, I began to dig into the snack-type foods spread out before us. My hunger had returned with a drunken vengeance. The women all told me horror stories about Cyclone thinking she owned every man in the clubhouse. Alisha told me that on one of her infrequent visits to the clubhouse, she'd had the displeasure of glimpsing Cyclone in the middle of a group of bikers who were all jerking off on her face. When they came, she looked like a glazed donut.

I gagged and eyed the chocolate croissant in my hand, suddenly nauseous. I mean if that's your thing, awesome, but the germs...I'd bet she didn't screen those vile ass men for diseases before they shot one out in her face. "Fucking nasty."

"Totally," Sheena agreed. "I had to beat that bitch's ass until she got the message to stop messing with my man."

Looking back to Alisha, then Sheena, I took a bite of my cookie. "I thought the old ladies didn't come to the clubhouse? That you uh...didn't like to fight?"

"Girl," Bettie said with a husky laugh, "We don't go to the clubhouse because the sweet butts are the younger guys' problem. For the most part, they don't fuck with us and we don't fuck with them. For some, it's the thrill of bad boy cock. For others, it's what they like to do. For yet others, it's a way for them to try and get as much from a man as they can before he moves on. Or, as one bitch who tried to fuck my husband right in front of me said, 'guilt-free pussy'."

I made a little growling noise that was echoed around the room by the other women.

Huh, guess I wasn't the only woman who had a possessive streak that bordered on crazy.

Nodding at me and what I was sure was my disgusted expression, Bettie continued. "The fact that those transient women practically have the run of the place is the younger guys' fault. They need to learn to deal with their whores, not rely on other women to keep their sluts in place. I'm the fucking old lady of the Road Master. I'm not some fuckin' madam who'll keep their sluts in line, and they know better than to involve me in their shit. They do and my old man'll have a word about respect. They don't like it? That's their fuckin' problem."

"They also know better than to mess with Breaker," Cathy added in a slightly slurred voice. She'd had three drinks while I'd been here, and her lightly freckled cheeks were rosy. "And what Sheena said is true. Our guys, while scary as hell, are more than capable of taking care of themselves, don't care enough about the sluts to deal with them. They're hangers-on, bitches that just go in and out of the free-pussy-revolving-door of the clubhouse. Sad but true, these women really don't matter all that much to the men, so they don't see them as a real threat. And the older guys aren't going to waste their time babysitting skanks. So, until the younger guys man the fuck up and take care of their business, we're just staying away from the clubhouse other than for rides and family events."

"My advice to you," Alisha said while leaning forward enough to give a glimpse of her deep cleavage, "is to talk to your man about it when you're both calm."

My hands unclenched and ached as the blood rushed back into my fingers. Okay, I'd spilled my guts to them so hopefully that would get some of the other women to reveal things they shouldn't. I just had to listen carefully and try to find a pattern of behavior, or a break in one. That would be my first breadcrumb.

I hung out with the women, learning about the ins and outs of life as an old lady in the Iron Horse MC. They were surprisingly honest, telling me about the hard lessons they'd learned along the way. I found myself really liking these women and hoping none of them were betraying the club. As far as I could tell, they all seemed to be pretty legitimate, but the alcohol snuck up on me and I often forgot that I was supposed to be interrogating them.

Cathy rubbed her face after laughing until she cried as Bettie told outrageous stories about growing up in an MC out east, then set her glass down with a sigh. "Now, let's talk about the three hundred-pound gorilla in the room, your mom and sister."

All the women stared at me, and I struggled to decide how to handle this. Tension began to electrify the air, and all the good humor left their eyes. They were just as scary as their biker counterparts in an odd way. You could tell by looking at them, if you pissed them off, you would regret it. Then again, I didn't want them to see me as a threat. It really irked my pride to appear weak, but the sympathy card had worked for me so far so I let the tears come to my eyes as I whispered, "I'm so worried about them."

Just like that the uncomfortable energy dissipated. I tried not to flinch as Alisha patted my hand, her touch sending an electrical storm of misfiring nerve impulses through my muscles and skin. It took an enormous amount of effort, but I managed to keep my stomach under control while I moved my hand away from Alisha's touch.

They all made soothing murmurs and comments, each one saying nice things about Sarah. To me they all seemed sincere, but I thought Stewart had been honestly in love with me as well, so what the hell did I know? They finally settled down, and I tried to keep breathing normally while I waited to find out if they could help me or not.

Cathy spoke up first. "I met Sarah when she was here with Beach, and I've gotta say, I'd be more scared about her coming after me than some of the men."

With a laugh Bettie sat back and shook her head. "That bitch can throw a punch."

I looked around the circle of women. "What happened?"

"What happened," Alisha said with a small smirk, "Is that Tila got into it with Sarah but Tila was fuckin' Sm...ummm..."

I stiffened and tried to keep the smile on my face. "It's okay, I'm aware that Smoke had a rather...sordid sexual history before we got together."

"Right," Cathy said as she briskly rubbed her hands together. "So anyway..."

With perfectly horrible timing Smoke's voice rang through the room, "Babe?"

It took a great deal of effort to turn my head and smile at him, but I think I managed okay. "Yes?"

Tension filled his expression and he crooked his finger at me. "Come here."

I wanted to snarl at him that I wasn't his puppy to come and fetch when he called, but I once again played the role of dutiful old lady and went to his side. There had better be a big plate of brownies in my future for putting up with this shit. When he went to reach for me I stepped back, but he only took a big step forward and crowded me against the frame of the doorway. I stared up at him, loving and hating him for having shared such an intimate act with other women, while he examined my face.

"I don't know what they said to you, but I need you to focus past it for a second. Please baby girl. There is some important shit I gotta share with you."

Compared to the effort it took to let go of my anger, doing a hundred mile hike with no shoes seemed like a breeze. I'd never realized just how hard it was to control my temper, and I wondered if this was how my father felt before he flipped out. It was the memory of being on the receiving end of his anger that gave me the strength to swallow those destructive emotions down like jagged shards of glass tearing up my throat.

He cupped my face and stroked my cheeks as he whispered, "I got a text from Mimi. Now, I've gotta go, but Breaker will take you back to the clubhouse."

"Mimi?"

My heart lurched and I grasped his forearms as his hands slid to my shoulders. The child inside of me who worshiped my stepmother hoped that she'd found a way out of this mess for me even as my adult mind scolded me for thinking everything would end so easily. Smoke nodded and something dark and scary passed through his gaze.

"Yeah. Evidently Mimi has contacted your grandfather and he was not pleased with the situation. Mimi said there are a couple of your Stefano cousins either in town or on their way. She wouldn't tell me which, only that they'd remain out of sight and not contact you directly for fear of tipping the Russians off and starting a war between the two families."

I sucked in a quick breath. "Holy fucking shit."

"Yeah, just when I thought this clusterfuck couldn't get more complicated here comes the Stefano mafia." A small smirk twitched his lips. "Should I expect some of your daddy's special ops friends to be stopping by?"

"Probably, but if they do, we won't see them," I muttered. Crap, I should have known my parents weren't going to let us drive away without interfering. I prayed that my dad wouldn't show up here. With his temper, he'd be beating up bikers left and right for looking at me. "Did she say which cousins?"

"No, only that they're not 'officially' here, although they are here because your grandfather loves you and is worried. They won't be contacting us unless absolutely necessary in an effort to stay under the radar."

"So, I guess she decided there was something going on that she needs to share with you." I tried not to be upset that Mimi didn't want me to help, I mean, yes, I was a big, blonde, walking target, but it still stung like I'd been rejected somehow.

With a tender touch Smoke rubbed his thumb over my lips. "You miss her, yeah?"

"Yeah." I sighed. "Give her my love, please."

"If I see her, I will. For all I know I'll be meeting with one of your cousins."

The muscles in my jaw tightened as I considered my macho, protective, overbearing, prone-to-thuggish-behavior cousins. "Tell them if they breathe on you wrong, I'll be coming for them."

He laughed. "Damn, you're cute. Not because I don't think you couldn't kick their ass, but because you would."

The thump of boots hitting wood floors came from our right, and Breaker appeared at the end of the hallway, his curly blond hair in disarray, as he stepped over a pink toy convertible with a doll shoved haphazardly inside. "We've got confirmation of the drop-off."

All the warmth abruptly went out of Smoke, and he released me. "Gotta go. Breaker, anything happens to her and I'm coming for you."

"You go take care of your shit. I'll guard your old lady like she's my own. There's some stuff I need to square away first, then we'll head out."

Smoke went to step away, but I caught the front of his shirt and hauled him down to me for a quick, hard kiss before whispering against his lips, "You annoy the fuck out of me, but I love you, so please come back to me in one piece."

He pulled me into a tight hug then abruptly released me. "Ditto."

I took in a deep, shuddering breath as I watched Smoke walk away before I turned back to Breaker. "How long until you're ready?"

"Not too long-hour or two maybe. Go hang out with the old ladies, and I'll come get you in a few."

"Okay."

None of the women asked me what was going on, and I found it odd until I realized that this secrecy was normal for them. They were used to the cloak and dagger bullshit that came with club life and their nonchalance put me at ease. We talked about places my mom and sister could probably be, and by the time I had to leave, I felt like I wasn't any closer to finding my family than before, but I might have made some new friends who seemed to genuinely like me. We exchanged numbers, and I promised them that once things calmed down we would hang out.

Once Breaker and I were on the road he glanced over at me. "Feel better? Old ladies help you figure some shit out?"

I nodded and shifted to adjust the gun in my waistband. With my ebbing adrenaline, lack of quality sleep, and the drinks, I was pooped. Hell, it was only the middle of the afternoon, and I was ready for a nap. "Yeah. They're really nice."

"Cathy is a good judge of character, and she likes you. I'd hazard a guess she's circling the wagons around you right now, and Sheena is calling her girls to see if there's any gossip going around about Billie. Looks like you got their seal of approval. They'll move heaven and earth to help ya now."

"What do you mean?"

"Old ladies look out for each other. Alisha's husband, Donkey, had some medical problems last year, and the old ladies took care of them both, cleaned their house, made 'em food, all that shit." He sighed. "Don't get me wrong, some of the old ladies are cunts, but those women back at my house are some of the good ones."

That caught my attention, and I watched Breaker while we pulled out of his neighborhood and onto the main road leading out of his subdivision. While we'd been inside, the sky to the west had clouded up, and I was pretty sure it was going to start pouring soon. The air smelled like rain, and I could see some dark clouds piling up over the mountains.

"And who would the cunts be?"

"Just a few of the old ladies who have chips on their shoulders, nothing to worry about."

"Still, I'd feel better if I knew who they were so I can watch out for them."

He glanced at me and his brows lowered. "Don't worry about it. They wouldn't fuck with you, and if they did, they know they'd have to deal with Smoke. A few of them are going to be at our party tonight. Word is already spreading to steer clear of you, that Smoke's a little possessive."

"Party?"

Images of the drunken orgy that I'd seen yesterday when we arrived flashed through my mind and I grimaced.

"Yeah, a new brother is getting patched in and there's a big party after." He flexed is hands on the wheel and his forearms tensed. "I doubt Smoke'll allow you to go."

"What do you mean 'allow' me to go?" I actually had no desire to go, but I didn't like this whole 'allowing' me thing. "Will Smoke be there?"

"Little girl, you don't wanna be there. Trust me on that."

"Why?"

Fat raindrops began to hit the windshield as we pulled off the busy highway. "Because there's gonna be a lot of stuff going on that you don't need to see, and no fucking way Smoke's gonna expose you to that."

A hint of jealousy curled in my stomach, and I tried to ignore it, but my tipsy mouth ran away from me. "Why? So he can get a little time with Cyclone?"

Breaker whipped his head around to look at me and his glare made me shrink back in my seat. Man, he could be scary when he wanted. "You couldn't be more fuckin' wrong. Smoke doesn't want anything to do with any of the sweet butts, a fact he made abundantly clear when he had me spread the word that any club whore who touched him would deeply regret it. He's keepin' you away from the party, because with the couple hundred people jammed into the clubhouse, it'll be practically impossible to protect you."

That made me simmer down a bit, and I leaned my head against the cool window, watching the beads of water race down the glass. The truck had decent size side mirrors, and I frowned as I noticed a silver sedan about three cars back that would switch lanes every time we did in the busy suburban Denver traffic. When the sedan blew a red light to keep up with us, I knew we had problems.

He pulled off at an exit, which led to what looked like an older part of the city, leaving the silver car on the freeway behind us. "Gonna grab some lunch. You hungry?"

I nodded and fifteen minutes later in the pouring rain I was chowing down on a really good hot dog with mustard, chili, and relish almost dripping off of it. My buzz had completely faded by this point, but the post drinking hunger had kicked in, and I devoured my meal. I shoved the last few bites in my mouth then grabbed my soda and took a big drink. My gaze drifted to the passenger side rear view mirror and something caught my attention. I realized that a car had been following us since we left the drive through hot-dog place, but it wasn't the silver one anymore. This time, a burnished copper sedan kept a couple cars back, but they were for sure keeping up with us. A burst of adrenaline hit my blood stream, and I sucked in a slow breath.

"Breaker, we're being-"

"Followed? Yeah, I know."

He abruptly changed lanes again. "Don't worry, I got a couple ways to get us to the clubhouse. Unless they have wings, they ain't gonna be able to follow us."

I drained the rest of my drink for the sugar and caffeine boost, then grabbed my pack to double check my weapons and get my extra ammo ready. As my fingers brushed two very illegal guns and a couple other deadly toys, I prayed we wouldn't have to use them.

The truck abruptly shifted and I yelped, clutching my pack to my chest and bracing my arm on the dash. We'd left the road and were now driving over some rough terrain to reach the next major street ahead. "What the hell?"

"They try to climb that curb in that sedan and they'll rip their undercarriage out."

Impressed, I smiled. "Nice thinking."

He gave me a wink. "I might've had to do this a time or two. You manage to get the license plate?"

"Yep, but it was hard to see inside the car, like the windshield was extra tinted. If it was a custom tint job that might help."

"It would, but they have shit you can put on and peel off your windshield now that's like a giant sticker you can get on the Internet."

"That sucks."

Chapter Eleven.

Miguel 'Smoke' Santos Me, Hulk, and Frame, one of Hulk's Enforcers, pulled up to the warehouse on the south side of Denver and parked out front along with a white mini-van with a cleaning service logo on the side. The van belonged to Sheena, Frame's old lady, and it had been used to bring something other than cleaning supplies to this massive auto and motorcycle parts warehouse. In this case, it was a present from Mimi.

I'd hoped she or Mike would contact me with some information, but I didn't expect it this soon. In all the shit that was going on, I'd lost sight of just how deadly Swan's loved ones were, and I couldn't help but feel a little bit of hope that I could get my baby girl though this bullshit relatively unscathed-a miracle that had been appearing less and less probable as time went on. Now we had something...or someone to work with.

The clouds were gathering overhead and a brisk breeze had stirred up the dusty land in the industrial complex, throwing stinging grit into the air that pebbled my skin and skipped off my leather. Thunder rumbled across the distant mountains, and it looked like we were going to get one hell of a storm. I hoped that Breaker would get Swan back before the skies opened up.

We were all wearing protective facemasks. Mine made the lower half of my face, from just below my eyes down, look like a skull. My brothers were all wearing equally intimidating masks. Hulk's made him look like Frankenstein, and Frame's was a snarling demon face. Normally, I'd just wear my plain black face protector, but today, we were here to get some answers from a very unwilling piece of shit, so it helped to have the psychological advantage of intimidation. And it would help mask the smell if our target happened to shit, piss, and/or puke himself. That's one side effect of torture that they don't tell you about on the news, that the area will stink to high heaven until you bleach the hell out of it or burn it down.

And burning hair leaves a funk that'll never come out.

As I dismounted the Harley Davidson Road King I borrowed from Breaker, I pulled my black gloves out of my back pocket. These gloves were specially designed to keep any and all body fluids from reaching my skin and I carried them everywhere with me. As I stretched them over my fingers I had to turn my face away from the growing wind. Gonna be a hell of a storm.