The body changed everything. Not because a Kings of Ruin rider ended up dead but because my name had been carved into his chest.
Nobody could ignore that. Not the club and not the town. And definitely not the police.
By sunrise two patrol cars sat outside the property entrance while detectives wandering around pretending they weren’t watching us. Every member of the club looked irritated by the attention.
I stood near the clubhouse porch drinking coffee while Casey leaned against the railing beside me.
“This is going to be a nightmare.” Casey said.
“That sounds optimistic.” I said glancing toward the detectives and Casey laughed.
“Fair.” He said.
The investigations started immediately. Questions, photographs, interviews and more questions.
The detectives spent hours walking
