ALPHA BIKER WHO CLAIMED HIS BROTHER'S MATE

11

RAFE’S POV:

The adrenaline was still burning through my veins as I pulled back into the driveway. The cool night air hadn't done a damn thing to settle the storm inside me. I kicked the kickstand down, the metal scraping against the pavement, then headed inside.

I went straight for the kitchen sink.

It was a ritual—a grim, obsessive habit I’d formed over the years. Whenever I took a life, I would feel it in my skin unless I washed my hands. I turned the tap on full blast, the water scalding hot, and scrubbed. I lathered my hands until the soap turned into a thick, white foam, digging my nails into my palms to get every imaginary trace of Hart’s essence off me. He was gone. The world was a cleaner place, but my hands felt like they would never be light again.

I dried them roughly, my eyes landing on the dent I’d made in the counter earlier. It was f****d up.

I grabbed a fresh pack of cigars and a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. I didn't bother with a glass. I headed upstairs, my boots heavy on the wood. I knew what was coming. The Iron Fang MC didn't just let a high-ranking member drop without questions, even if I was the one who pulled the trigger. Tomorrow was going to be a goddamn circus, and I wasn’t sure if I was prepared for it.

I sat by the window in my room, the liquid burning a trail down my throat as I watched the moon. I smoked through half the pack, the room turning into a gray haze that matched the fog in my brain. I killed him for the club, I told myself. I killed him because he was a liability.

But the way Maya’s voice had broken when she called me a monster… that was the only thing that wouldn't stop echoing. I knew this road I was trailing down wasn’t the best path, but, goddess, I have not been able to get this woman out of my head for years. Now my brother has f****d up and she could be mine, but… I just cannot.

I finally passed out in a chair, the half-empty bottle still gripped in my hand.

**

BANG. BANG. BANG.

The sound rattled my skull like a pinball. I surged forward, a headache blooming through my head.

"I’m coming, goddammit!" I roared, my voice a gravelly mess.

I threw on a pair of jeans and stomped toward the stairs, but when I reached the landing, I froze. Maya was already at the door.

She looked small, wearing nothing but one of my oversized black tees that hung halfway down her thighs. Her hair was a mess of sleep-tossed waves, and her legs were bare, glowing in the morning light. She looked sexy, and I hated it because she was standing in front of two bikers. They could see her, and I didn’t like it.

Red-hot anger flared in my gut.

"Maya," I growled.

She didn't even look back at me as I reached the bottom of the stairs. She greeted Jax, my beta, and Stone, a gamma who looked like he had been carved out of granite.

Their eyes immediately traveled past me, landing on Maya. I could tell that the bastards were undressing her in their minds.

"Go inside," I snapped, my eyes fixed on the men. "Now."

Maya didn't utter a word. She didn't argue or scoff like she had last night. She just turned and vanished into the hallway. I felt Jax’s gaze linger a second too long for my liking before I stepped out and partially closed the door behind me. If he weren’t my beta, I might have punched him in the face, but I had respect for him.

"Talk," I commanded.

"The club’s in an uproar, Rafe," Jax said, keeping a serious face to conceal the fact he had been eye-f*****g my woman. "Hart’s death is all over the place. The brothers are pissed. He was a top earner and a solid hand on the team. You can't just delete him, and you know that, Rafe. He wasn’t just any member of the club."

"He was a goddamn womanizer who couldn't keep his hands to himself," I spat.

Stone let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Rafe, look around. We’re a biker club, not a monastery. Aren’t we all womanizers?"

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose, the pressure in my head intensifying.

"This is different. This one… she’s off-limits. He touched her. And then I caught the bastard cornering another girl not ten minutes later. He was a f*****g predator. You have a daughter, Stone. Imagine Hart going after her."

Stone grated his jaw for a second.

"We know we have to protect our women, Rafe. Truly. But Hart had a lead on Axel Rourke. He was the only one getting close to finding where that snake is hiding."

My eyes narrowed into slits. I leaned in, my shadow falling over Stone.

"And how the hell do you know that?"

I’d been hunting a mole for weeks. Someone was leaking our routes to Axel, and last night I’d threatened to burn the whole clubhouse down to find the rat. No one had breathed a word.

Stone stuttered, his bravado slipping.

"He… he talks a lot when he’s drunk, Rafe. Everyone heard him bragging. People believed Hart was the only link we had to Axel. Now that he’s dead, the Iron Fang looks porous and weak."

"He was a loudmouth and a liar," I said, poking Stone hard in the chest, backing him up a step. "Now let me tell you something. Never wake my ass up in the morning for this s**t again. Rafe never makes mistakes, you hear me? The man is dead. Schmuck’s smacked. End of story."

I held out my hand. "You got a smoke?"

Stone quickly fished a pack from his leather vest and handed it over. I took one, lit it, and blew a thick cloud of smoke into the morning air.

"Jax," I turned to my beta, "send a few thousand to his family for condolences. Keep the widow quiet. As for her… she’s yours now. Take care of her. I’ll provide a monthly stipend to keep her comfortable, but she’s your responsibility."

Jax nodded.

"Now get off my porch," I muttered, and before they could respond, I slammed the door in their faces.