It's closing on midnight when we finally get to the Clubhouse. The iron rooted gates open and all the brothers file in, stopping in their parking spaces. I'm last to get in, Falon nice and snug to my back.

I park my V-Rod next to Killer's red Dyna just as the man jogs down the porch steps.

The cold creeps in on my back when Falon gets off and rushes past Killer without a word.

Most probably to go lay down.

Her stomach has been cramping since the morning. And my guilt ...