Sadist sat at a small table in the main room of the Demented Souls clubhouse. The room was half full of his club-brothers, men he felt closer to than his own blood brother. Tuck sat across from him, but others had come and gone. It had been an evening of bullshit, laughter and a little whiskey, at least until Ruger put an end to it. His best friend had announced he was going up to his room. To Krissi.
It had taken Sadist a long time to understand how his best friend could trust the woman. Not only because of who she was, the daughter of one of their arch enemies, but because of the risk. It had taken Sadist even longer to trust her than most of the brothers. Possibly because of his own issues with people he’d trusted in the past.
The risk wasn’t just to Ruger. For any of the brothers to
