The past always comes full circle.

I stalk downstairs, past everyone in the common room, and out the door. I need air. I need to get out of here before I explode. My emotions are so raw right now that I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I haven’t felt this way since I came home, teamless and untethered. I got medals for bravery, sure, but it was little comfort. Just like now. I’m working hard to keep Quinn and Macy safe, but it is little consolation when I realize my actions and my past might be the reason she leaves.

Fuck, I’ve screwed up. I should have been honest with her from the beginning. Just like Viper said. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t have given me a chance in the first place. Either way, it’s a shit situation and I don’t know what to do.

Not only have I lost a brother, but I’m on my way to losing the woman that is my reason for living. It’s probably crazy for me to feel that way, but it is what it is. I won’t apologize for it. Every military person needs a reason to keep going, and even more so when you’re out. And Quinn is my reason. Macy is my reason.

I’m going to have to work to make her want to stay, but that’s what I’m going to do. No matter what. I’ll beg, plead, anything.

“I take it she saw the photo,” Viper says quietly as he comes to stand beside me. He doesn’t touch me, just stands next to me on the front porch, staring out at the driveway and the trees beyond. I give a curt nod, not trusting myself to speak right now. I’ve said all I wanted to say and I don’t need to rehash it. “And she’s pissed?”

“More than,” I say tightly. “I fucked up, Viper. I should have listened to you.”

He shrugs. “We’re men, we mess shit up all the time. What matters is that you’re there for her, that you make it right. Assuming you want to, that is?” He looks at me questioningly. I nod, because of course I do. “Then you work hard to fix it. Doesn’t matter what shit you have to do, you work until it’s where you’re both happy again.”

“And if I can’t? If she won’t give me a chance?” Just the thought makes my stomach cramp and my chest hurt, but I say the words anyway.

“You’re not a quitter, brother,” he says after a moment. “All of us know that when you want something, you go after it like a dog with a bone. So do the same here. If she’s worth it, if you want her as your Old Lady and that little girl as your own, then you do whatever you have to to make it happen and make her realize that you’re with her for her, not because of who she looks like.”

I wish it were so simple, but he’s right. I need to make Quinn see that I want her for her, not because of Sam. Quinn is my future, and I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life proving that to her.

The door behind us opens and I glance over my shoulder to find Sniper. “Either of you want to help me pick out something for Hammer to wear for his funeral? Bullet’s scolding Rose at the moment because she got out of bed and went up to talk to your woman.”

“Damn stubborn woman,” Viper gripes. “She shouldn’t be out of bed.”

Sniper shrugs. “She gets a plan in her head and she just does it.” He looks at me. “You good?”

“Not unless you can tell me how to keep her from leaving,” I answer tiredly.

“She’ll come around,” he says. “Rose has a way of making people see the other side. Come help me with Hammer and take your mind off it.” I sigh and nod.

“I’ll keep an eye on Macy and Syn,” Viper offers. “And see if I can coax your woman out with us.”

“Thanks, brother,” I say gruffly as I follow Sniper back inside.

“Shadow,” Macy calls excitedly, making me turn to look at her, a smile pulling at my face despite my mood. She’s standing there with both dogs at her side, hair still everywhere and her pajamas speckled with syrup, but she looks happy. “Look,” she says proudly, putting her hand on both dogs’ heads. “They’re almost as tall as me. Isn’t that crazy?”

“It is,” I agree. “You’re small enough to ride them.”

She giggles. “You don’t ride dogs, silly. You ride ponies.”

“My mistake. I need to go and help Sniper with something,” I tell her as I gesture to the other man waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs. “Until your Mom comes down, make sure you stay with the dogs and Syn okay?”

“And me, Pipsqueak,” Viper says with a big grin. “I’ll be around too.”

She stares up at Viper thoughtfully. “You’re really tall,” she remarks. “I think you’d be too big to ride a pony.”

He laughs. “I think you’re right. I might be able to ride a horse though.”

Macy nods her head, accepting that. “Come on, Loki. Come on, Ebony, let’s go play.” Both dogs turn with her and head back towards where Syn is standing, talking to King, who looks tired, but far less stressed.

I give him a nod and then follow Sniper upstairs. Hammer’s room is in the wing opposite mine, and walking down the dark hall towards his room makes my heart heavier. When we reach the door, Sniper pushes it open. I sigh at the mess. “He never was one for keeping this place clean,” I remark.

Sniper snorts. “More than one club girl refused to clean in the past when he really let things go at the other place. He was trying to be better here, I think, because I threatened to make him do it himself.” He heads over to the closet and sighs when he opens it and things fall out. Old magazines, some of them the dirty kind, and random clothes and knickknacks join their brethren on the floor. “I ain’t touching that shit,” he says as he points to the growing pile. “Dead or not. We’ll have the Prospects clean it up or something.”

I snort. “We only have three left, and one just had surgery. You sure you want to tempt fate and make it none?”

“Nah, Carson will do it and not complain. To our faces anyway. Not sure about Crypt.” He rifles through the hangers as he tries to find something that Hammer can wear.

“He’d do it,” I say absently as I move over to the desk and pick up one of the picture frames on it. Hammer never struck me as a sentimental guy, but the picture is one of him and Bullet, back when they were younger, obviously just having been patched in, from the beers in their hands and the way they proudly hold their cuts. Hammer was fifty pounds lighter then, and had a shorter beard. “How’s Bullet taking the news of Hammer?” I ask Sniper as I set the picture down.

“He’s pissed, but I don’t know that it’s sunk in yet. He hasn’t had his moment to say goodbye, and I’ve asked the funeral home to keep Hammer’s body on ice until I can get Bullet over there to see him later today. I think once he does, Bullet’s going to do one of two things. He’s going to lose his shit and go after Dmitri with everything he has, or he’s going to pretend everything is fine and go on about things as normal. Bullet isn’t an emotional guy.”

He has that right, but he’s got a big heart. If it was Rose on that slab, he would burn the world to the ground. And we would all help him. Hammer was his oldest friend, and had been through hell with him, so I have to imagine that he’s going to want to do some burning to avenge him.

“Fucker doesn’t have one thing without holes,” Sniper gripes as he yanks out a shirt from the closet and then tosses it on the bed. “Found one shirt, and it’s still got the tags on it.”

I chuckle. “I don’t think we need to find something fancy for him,” I point out. “Hammer wouldn’t want anything fancy. He always said that when he died, put him in a box and bury him. Or cremate him and scatter his ashes on the land here.” It’s not lost on me how sad it is that I know that detail. That Hammer was so clear about his wishes.

Sniper grunts his agreement as he pulls a pair of jeans from the dresser. “Yeah, you got a point. Be nice though if I could find something without stains.”

I look over when I hear the click of nails coming down the hall and frown when I see Loki coming into the room. “What are you doing up here?” I mutter. I grab my phone and text Viper.

Me: Loki is up here. Everything okay down there?

Viper: Everything’s fine. I think he got tired of Macy and just needed a break. She’s still playing with Ebony.

Me: Is Quinn with you?

Viper: She came down, but she’s staying in the kitchen for now. I’m letting her have her space.

Me: Alright. Thanks, brother. And tell Syn I have Loki.

Viper: Will do.

I look down at the dog who is sniffing at the pile of clothes on the floor in the corner. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” I warn him. “Lord knows what you’ll find in there.” Loki looks up at me and then goes back to sniffing around.

“We’ll wait a bit before we clean this place out,” Sniper announces as he turns to look at me before tossing the pants he found onto the bed with the shirt. “I’ll ask Bullet if he had any family that might want it.”

I nod in agreement. “Damn it,” I sigh, running my hand through my hair. “This fucking sucks, brother. And I still can’t figure out why Hammer. Sat up last night thinking of it, but I can only figure that they saw him riding alone and took it as an opportunity to send a message.”

“Only thing that makes sense,” Sniper agrees. “Cryos is working on tracking down the SUV, but the plates on it came back as bogus, so he’s got to work at it from another angle. I think he was up most of the night too.”

“I’m ready to take these bastards down,” I say tightly as I look back around the room. I stop on a picture on the wall and move closer to it. It’s an old picture of our old clubhouse, now turned into Torque’s garage. The building was older, and some of the faces milling around in it are different and foreign. But something, a gut feeling, makes me look at it a little closer. I reach up and take it off the wall. Nothing sticks out about it, or in it, but I don’t put it back.

“What?” Sniper asks, coming to stand beside me.

I don’t answer, just keep looking. But then I see it. There, just at the edge of the frame, is a face. I quickly turn the frame over and make quick work of opening it up and pulling the photograph out. But before I can look at it closely, Loki barks sharply, drawing my attention to him.

He’s staring at Hammer’s nightstand, eyes never leaving and his tail wagging furiously. I glance at Sniper, who’s frowning. “Get Syn up here,” he orders. “I need to know if that’s an alert of some kind.”

I shoot Viper a message.

Me: Need Syn up here. Loki has caught on to something in Hammer’s room.

Viper: On it.

Within a minute, Syn comes up the stairs and into the room, looking at Loki with interest and concern. Loki doesn’t even acknowledge her. He just barks again, laser-focused on the nightstand. “Whatever he’s smelling is inside it,” Syn says, moving to stand by him.

“He going to bite if I reach in there for it?” Sniper asks.

She shakes her head. “He won’t move until I give him the command that he can,” she assures him.

Sniper carefully moves forward and I step back, but I’m on high alert. Did Loki just smell more drugs? Is Hammer our mole after all, and Dmitri took him out because we’re too close to figuring it out? All the questions in my head stop when Sniper curses. He pulls out a couple of bags of white powder, and Loki barks again.

It’s my turn to curse. “How many are in there?” I ask.

“Only three, but it’s three too many,” Sniper answers tightly.

Loki whines and barks again, stepping forward and sniffing at the drawer again. I step forward and look in. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Condoms, lube, a couple of toys that I really hope he cleaned lately, and some papers. No more packages or anything suspicious. I reach in and grab the papers, wondering if anything is between them.

Most of them are just reminder notes or receipts, but it’s the last one that has me pausing. Because inside it is a note, and a picture. Loki whines, nudging at the paper in my hands with his nose. Then I see it, more small traces of white on it. “Good boy,” I tell the dog. “Looks like either Hammer used this paper as something to snort that with, or one of the bags he had in here had a hole in it and it got on the paper.”

“Then it would have to be very recently because we searched this room,” Syn reminds us. Sniper looks over at her sharply. Shit. I forgot he wasn’t in the know on that. Instead of answering the question on his face, I look at Syn. “And we hit in this room, but the dogs searched everywhere right?” I ask.

She nods. “The only place the dogs hit were the desk, the bottom dresser drawer, and under the mattress.”

“Someone want to explain to me what the hell is going on? And what the hell do you mean, the dogs already searched?” Sniper demands, voice tight.

I glance at him. “We had the idea that if our mole was close by, he might be hiding his product, and what better way to find him without us doing the search and possibly getting caught than to have Syn bring the dogs. Only our mole somehow discovered the plan and put drugs in every person’s room. Including yours.”

His eyes go hard. “So he’s got a bug somewhere,” he summarizes.

“We swept and found it in Bullet’s office. We’re not sure how he got it in there, but it was the only explanation for how he knew about the search when the only people present for the discussion were Me, Viper, Bullet, and Syn.”

“Motherfucker,” Sniper growls. “And you think Hammer was the mole?”

Syn holds up her hand. “I have a feeling I don’t need to hear this, so I’m going to take Loki out and reward him for the find. If you want another search, I’ll bring Ebony up.” Then she turns, gives a command to the dog, and heads out. I hear her praise him as she goes down the hall.

“Fuck, this is a mess,” Sniper growls, running a hand through his hair.

I nod, but my attention is on the note. There’s nothing of importance in it, just some dates but nothing else. Then I look at the picture and everything stops. In the picture is Hammer with Bullet and another man. A man with the patch of President and a road name of Bull.

I’ve seen some pictures of Bull, but he was older, with a thick beard, and in this one, he’s much younger, his face just covered with scruff, and a cigarette in his mouth. He’s a big man, but you can see the hard glint in his eyes. Eyes that I’ve seen before. And a face that looks far too much like someone else we know.

“Fuck,” I hiss, turning and moving quickly out of the room. Sniper is hot on my heels. I don’t know if he’s connected the dots yet, but I have.

I move quickly past everyone, past the curious faces, including Quinn whose eyes follow me with hurt, but I can’t think about that right now. I walk into Cryos’s office, and tell Sniper to shut the door. Cryos looks up at me in surprise, eyes red from being awake all night, and hair a mess from running his hands through it. “What’s up?” he asks tiredly.

“You did a run on Bull at one point?” I ask him briskly.

“Long time ago, yeah, but more out of curiosity than anything deep,” Cryos says in confusion.

“Was there anything in your findings about Bull having a kid? A son, specifically?” I ask him, and I hear Sniper take in a sharp breath.

Cryos frowns. “No, I don’t think so.” He types quickly on his keyboard and I turn to look at all the screens. An old driver’s license photo of Bull is on display, but he looks hard, angry at the world, and has a long thick beard that obscures his face. Even then, he looked like a man up to no good. “I have nothing on record about him being named as a father for anyone,” Cryos says, “but let me do a more in-depth search.”

“His legal name was Christopher Markins,” Sniper says as he stares at the photo on screen. “What was his middle name?”

“Arnold,” Cryos says absently, and then he stops. “Wait,” he says, also putting the dots together. “Isn’t Dagger’s legal name Christopher Arnold?”

Son of a bitch, we just found our mole.

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