Jagger was innocent. And justice wasn’t being served.
Which was why Slider was attending Church for the first time in a long damn time. And why, even though he was midshift and therefore driving the tow truck, he was doing it wearing his cut.
It was time he stood with his brothers again.
At the clubhouse, he parked the truck at the end of a row of Harleys, proof that a number of guys had beat him there. He’d been a member of the Ravens for sixteen years, so walking up the steps and crossing the wide front porch of the old two-story inn should’ve felt like coming home. But since he’d been lost for so fucking long, he was still figuring out what, where, and who home exactly was.
Which, of course, had him thinking about Cora.
The only person who now knew the secret he’d kept for so damn long.
He hadn’t been able to hold it in for one more second. Not after nearly taking her head off for doing something he’d planned to do anyway, and not when the bleak look of hurt on her beautiful face had nearly gutted him. It was just that seeing Kim’s things on display in the living room had been a sucker punch. He hadn’t been ready for it. And it’d hurt like hell. So Slider had lashed out.
But Cora hadn’t deserved it. Not one bit.
Coming clean had seemed like the only way to truly set things right, even though a part of him worried that she’d think less of him. He already had a hard time believing that she thought all that highly of him to begin with.
Then again, she’d called him a hero . . .
He didn’t believe it. Not for one fucking second.
Inside the clubhouse, Slider stepped into the main lobby. The old inn’s long reception desk remained, but otherwise, the room now resembled a giant lounge with big brown leather couches. Framed pictures of club members dominated one wall, and the Ravens’ motto was carved into the woodwork above the desk: Ride. Fight. Defend.
Exactly what Jagger needed from them now.
To the right sat the big mess hall and to the left, their bar and rec room, but both of those rooms were quiet. Voices filtered from the back of the clubhouse, though, from the direction of the big room they used for Church—the club’s official business meetings, open only to fully patched members of the Raven Riders.
Slider tried to ignore the way those voices died down when he walked into the room, where about twenty guys were already congregated. And then the surprise ratcheted up even more when he chose a seat at the table instead of one of those against the wall at the back of the room.
“Anyone sitting here?” he asked, grabbing a chair.
“Just you, my brother. Just you,” Meat said, clasping his hand.
Feeling a little bit like a science experiment gone wrong, Slider sat his ass down.
And then his brothers included him in run-of-the-mill conversation that made the weirdness go away.
“Anything new at the shop?” Meat asked. Feeling like he was testing the waters of their reaction to him, Slider detailed the same-shit, different-day problems around Frederick Auto Body and Repair.
“How are the boys doing? Ben making out okay with his cast?” Bear asked, when Slider had answered Meat.
“You’d never know he had a broken bone,” Slider said. “He’s doing great. Both of them are.”
Doc chuckled, his deep laugh part of the reason that he made a perfect Santa at Christmastime. Well, that and the white beard and mustache. “If we could bottle up the way kids bounce back from things—and their energy—our old asses would be A-OK.” Nods and laughter all around.
More brothers filtered in until there were nearly thirty men taking up every seat in the joint. Proof of just how well respected Jagger was.
“Cora still liking her new ride?” Phoenix wanted to know as the newcomers got settled.
Slider did a bit of a double take at that one. When had Phoenix seen the Camry? “Yeah, she calls it her baby.”
Phoenix grinned, which he’d always done easily and readily, even in the worst of times. Slider admired that about the guy. “She looked good behind the wheel.”
Slider wasn’t able to restrain an arched eyebrow or the come again? glare.
“I mean, you know, she looked happy,” Phoenix said, apparently catching the vibe Slider was throwing off even though he had no damn right to be throwing it. For fuck’s sake.
Thankfully, that was the moment Dare banged the gavel and called the meeting to order. “Thanks for coming,” Dare said, his gaze snagging on Slider long enough to be an acknowledgment. “Got some news I wanted to share, and I wanted to do it in person.”
Tension hung thick in the air, because Slider wasn’t the only man who’d deduced enough about Jagger’s fate to be unhappy.