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that the notion had just been wishful thinking. Dammit.

Where the hell was Ricky? What was taking him so long? Was something, or someone, preventing him from getting back to me? Was he in trouble? Or, had Slade been right? Had he turned?

No, I wouldn’t believe that. Rick Vale had always been an ally to me. He’d proven himself time and time again. Moreover, I knew that he wouldn’t do anything to put me in danger, to hurt me like that, or screw me over. Although I didn’t feel the same way, I knew that he had an affinity for me. He was aware of where I stood on the matter and he’d taken the rejection like a champ. But the feelings were still there on his end nevertheless.

At least I’d gotten confirmation from my other contact. Clay Wallis, the remaining former Strikers MC member outside of Blake Freeman had taken the job offer, and he’d already relocated to start his new life away from his problematic and pitiful former one and anybody connected to it. It meant that Freeman hadn’t been able to recruit a single surviving former member of the Strikers MC to his cause. And I wouldn’t believe that Ricky had been the exception to that.

I was just about to stow my phone back in my pocket when it started ringing. I took note of the caller ID.

Rick Vale.

Finally.

Hoping it was good news and that I’d been right about his loyalties, I swiped to answer and spoke cautiously, “Shadow.”

His voice came harsh and rushed down the line, demanding, “Did Slade go after Nolan?”

I stilled, then responded evasively, “Why do you ask?”

“Adrian Nolan has made contact with Blake. The only thing the two of them have got in common is a dangerous enemy. Slade. Nolan was keeping quiet, not actively going up against Titans, because he knows the price of starting a war like that. He’s a businessman and war ain’t good for profits and all that. The only thing that could’ve shifted his priorities is if Slade made a move.”

Okay, the jig was up. Time to lay it out there and get down to it. “There was an attempt on Nolan’s life, yes.”

“Shame it was just an attempt. Jesus.”

“Where are they now?”

“Nolan’s come down to him at the abandoned Strikers MC compound.”

“You’re absolutely sure about this, that Blake Freeman is at that compound, and that he and Nolan are together?”

“Of course. You want proof? How about the fact that I saw it with my own eyes? Saw Nolan and his army of suited bodyguards walk in here. Saw Blake shake his hand—well, the one that weren’t fucked up and bandaged—and lead him into Nik’s old office that the kid’s commandeered as his own now.”

I frowned. “You’re telling me that you’re with Freeman?”

“Yeah. How else do you think I have this intel? As soon as I got wind about the kid trying to bring the club back to life, I made him believe I was on board. I’m a goddamn double agent.”

“That’s incredibly risky. We could’ve found another way.”

“It woulda taken too long and we never woulda known about Blake’s activities. This early, we still got a shot of stopping it before it gets too far.”

Shit. “You’ve done enough, pull out now, I’ll take it from here.”

“I can’t be doing that, sweetheart. We need more details to be able to act in a way that ain’t gonna get us all nabbed by the law, or fucking well killed.”

“You’re on borrowed time.”

“Well aware. It is what it is.”

“Ricky—”

“Willa, I shoulda got out long ago, but I didn’t. Missed my window. It means there’s only one way shit’s gonna end for me. At least I can do some good before I go out.”

“No. It’s never too late,” I countered. “Get out and come to me. I’ll protect you.”

He chuckled down the line, but it lacked humor. “I’m willing to bet you’ve already got your hands full with Slade. He don’t exactly take well to being under somebody’s protection. Lisa tried and it didn’t go down well.”

“What do you mean?”

“She gave herself over to Nik to protect Slade. Of course, Slade wouldn’t stand for that, so he went after her. Nik lost it, thinking he’d finally got the woman he’d wanted for so long, only to have it about to be ripped away by Slade. He couldn’t have her, so he wasn’t willing to let anybody else have her. When Slade got there, he killed her, right in front of him.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

“Yeah, that old bastard was pretty fucking dark. It got worse as he got older and more bitter.”

“I’m aware.”

“Believe it, or not, his son is another level of that.”

The sound of footsteps crunching nearby had me spinning around sharply.

I was more than a little caught off guard—a sensation I absolutely abhorred—to see that Slade had managed to approach me so quietly that he was only a couple of feet out. Jeez, the guy was good.

He held out his hand demandingly. “Hand me the phone.”

“Slade—”

“Don’t start, woman. Just hand me the goddamn phone. Let me talk to him.”

I hesitated for a couple of moments, then Ricky spoke down the line, obviously hearing our exchange in the background. “Hand it over, sweetheart. He’s a stubborn ass. He ain’t gonna let it go. Do yourself a favor, yeah?”

“Devil spawn,” I muttered as I closed the distance between us and shoved the phone into Slade’s hand.

He smirked. “Hell bitch.”

He shifted the phone in his hand, then surprised me by putting it on speakerphone mode and holding it between us. He was sharing, not trying to cut me out of it like I’d thought.

“Rick?” he spoke, that deep, gravelly voice of his so commanding and forceful in just that one word.

“Yeah, Prez.”

The sarcasm in Ricky’s response wasn’t lost on Slade. But he merely rolled his eyes, then blew right past it, keeping his focus on the situation at hand. “Shut down all that bullshit of yours and open your ears, fucker.”

“I’m listening,”

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