“Tomorrow morning,” I promise, rising from my chair.
It’s another half hour before we leave the dining room. We stop and talk to almost everyone.
I’m full—of good food and warm feelings.
The ache of losing my sister will always be with me.
But for the first time in a long time, I feel like I belong to a different kind of sisterhood.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Rooster
“Holy moly.” Shelby whistles as she hops off the back of my bike and takes off her helmet. “This place is something else.”
She’s not kidding. Chaser and Mallory’s house can only be described as some sort of modern castle nestled way in the woods of Western New York.
Z’s boots crunch over the pale stone driveway as he approaches us.
“Has the Demons-Kings’ relationship reached a new level?” I ask. “We’ve never been invited to Chaser’s house before, have we?”
“We haven’t. Rock probably has at some point.” He shrugs. “Chaser hasn’t been president long. And this is more of a personal, family event than a club party.”
Family event or not, prospects are stationed at the front doors. I can’t imagine anyone invited to this party doesn’t know Chaser’s an MC president.
Chaser and Mallory meet us near the front door.
“Welcome,” Chaser says, greeting us in order of our rank.
Mallory hugs Lilly, taking her hands and talking to her for a few seconds. She smiles and embraces Hope, giving her the same welcoming treatment.
“Shelby!” Angelina speeds through the grand foyer to get to us. “I’m so excited you’re here.”
They squee and hug like it’s been years instead of a couple of weeks since they last saw each other.
Chaser watches them for a few seconds with a smile before extending his hand to me. “Welcome. Good to see you in New York.”
“Thank you for inviting us.”
Mallory leads the ol’ ladies somewhere for them to change into the fancier clothes they brought.
“You can come upstairs with me.” Angelina tugs on Shelby’s hand. “I’ll return her to you in a bit, Rooster.”
“Thanks.”
Chaser’s son Dylan walks us through the house to a large rectangular courtyard. Strings of lights dangle from trees. Several long tables have been set up in the middle.
Careful attention was given to the seating. Chaser’s club brothers and family are spread out at the center table. Lost Kings have an entire table to the right. On the left, the table seems to be a mix of music industry types and gangsters related to Mallory’s father.
Dylan steers us toward a corner of our table that’s closest to the family’s. “I think my sister wants you and Shelby to sit here,” he explains.
“Thanks.”
I scan the vast courtyard, my gaze landing on one of the many fountains. Z, Rock, Murphy, Chaser, and Chaser’s VP are standing in a loose circle in front of the stone angel spewing water into a basin below.
Z catches my eye and subtly tilts his head, indicating I should get my ass over there.
As I approach, I notice a lean, tattooed guy with dark hair similar to Chaser’s looming behind him.
“Rooster,” Chaser greets as I take my place next to Z. “Obviously, this party is of a personal nature but since everyone’s here, I want to introduce you to my brother.” He slaps the tall, dark-haired guy on the shoulder. “Quill.”
“Half-brother,” Quill says, his Adam’s apple moving under the detailed Lion tattoo inked into his throat.
My gaze shoots to Rock, then Z. I’ve seen that lion somewhere before but can’t place it. Rock’s utterly calm, almost indifferent, as he shakes Quill’s hand. The guy has to be closer to Z’s age than Chaser’s. Not sure what the story is or why we’re meeting him now.
I shake his hand last and he nods at me.
“Quill’s crew is taking over some aspects of my father-in-law’s action,” Chaser explains.
Rock narrows his eyes. DeLova’s action frequently ran right through our territory.
Chaser says something against his brother’s ear and gestures toward the party.
“Excuse me for a minute,” Quill says in his low baritone. “Pleasure meeting everyone.”
We all nod and respond with some polite variation of the same.
“I didn’t realize you had a brother,” Rock says, going straight for the impolite topic as soon as Quill’s out of earshot.
“Neither did I until not that long ago.” Chaser’s gaze sweeps the area. “Got three of ’em. Their father was Hector Rojas.”
He pauses to let the name sink in. It doesn’t mean anything to me, but Rock and Z seem to recognize it by the way they stare at each other.
“You’re shitting me,” Z says.
“It’s been a delight.” Chaser’s expression doesn’t change but his sarcastic tone says plenty.
His VP grunts in agreement.
“Anyway, they’re moving stuff into Quebec. Easiest route goes through your territory. Can we work something out?”
I feel for Chaser. He’s been put in a hell of an awkward position here.
Rock and Z share another look.
“You know my hard fuck-no lines,” Rock finally answers.