I couldn't stop staring at the envelope.
It sat on the table in front of me, worn and faded, the edges curling from years of
being hidden away. My father had protected it for almost twenty years.
People had just fired bullets at a motorcycle club because of it.
And according to Silas Mercer, someone had been hurting me since the day I was
born.
It didn't make sense.
None of it.
I wrapped my hands around the mug of coffee Dani had placed in front of me, trying
to stop them from shaking. The clubhouse had settled into an uneasy silence after
Cal's announcement. Men who had probably laughed in the face of danger a
hundred times were now checking windows, locking doors, and patrolling the
property.
Nobody trusted anyone.
Not anymore.
Because if Cal was right, one of them had op
