"All the leaves are brown. And the sky is grey. I've been for a walk. On a winter's day." -The Mamas & The Papas, California Dreamin'

Jacko

3 Months Prior

Whiskey. Because no great story ever started with someone eating a salad... Chuckling softly to myself at that random thought, I strategically picked at the chicken on top of Sarin's colorful salad—a mix of greens, yellows, and vibrant reds—as her delicate footsteps padded down the hall carpet of the small apartment while she went to check on the boys. Maybe it was alcohol that the sign was referring to instead of whiskey. Fuck it, who the hell cares about hipster culture or that new pretentious shit stain bar that just opened up over in Southside Ramport? Who fuckin' cares if someone orders a salad or a drink, it's all just excuses to get people in the door and spendin' money on bullshit they don't need.

Popping another chunk of perfectly grilled meat into my mouth, I eyed the clock above the stove and grumbled under my breath, "Levi should've checked in by now... At least with a text message—even if it's some kind of ball bustin' shit that he enjoys sendin' when bored." This run was easy and there was no excuse for him missing a standard check-in. As my impatience grew, I drummed my fingers on the hardtop counter as I absentmindedly popped another piece of meat into my greedy mouth.

Sarin's soft footsteps amplified as she inched towards the small kitchen, and the closer she got to where I sat, the larger the snarl became that formed on her face. Her eyes swiftly gravitated between my chewing and the destruction I had done to her plate in her absence.

A low growl sprung from her sweet peach lips. "You hungry? I can whip you up something of your own before you head over to the clubhouse," she asked with an air of sarcasm as she violently loaded her fork up with a heaping pile of leafy greens. She's prolly envisionin' my face as she stabs that organic material over and over.

"Not really. I think I'm just in a pickin' mood." I eyed the clock again as my drumming escalated in tempo.

The frown on her face settled ever so slightly.. There was never any hiding how I truly felt when in Sarin's presence. "Is it nerves?" she cautiously asked, causing me to halt the drumming of my fingertips on the grey tiled countertop again. How the hell do i say what I'm feelin' without worryin' her? Sarin always worried when Levi took on gun runs.

"Prolly just stupid shit. Nothin' neither of us should pay much attention to..." I stood abruptly. "I'm gonna head out. I'll catch you tomorrow." I hesitated for a second when she looked up with those gorgeous honey-dipped brown eyes.

Stilling my quickening pulse, I leaned in to gently kiss her forehead. Softly grazing her skin, I held back the sigh that desperately wanted to spring forth from deep in my chest—from the same place where the million other sighs lay secret as they waited for me to get my shit together and really tell her how I felt.

Mentally chastising myself a little bit more, I adopted my signature cold façade and didn't give it a second mind. However, she saw through each little movement and her inked hand reached up to run along the side of my face. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the way the black shading of the rose softened in the fluorescent lights of the kitchen. Mesmerized by the way her eyes sharpened as my face inched closer, my lips parted, but the scrape of the barstool against the tile quickly snapped me back to reality. With a sharp clear of my throat, she retracted her hand swiftly and busied herself with her late dinner.

"I need to leave," I said as I strengthened my resolve and gave her shoulder a squeeze. I let the front door slam a little too loud on my exit and I cringed as I let out a heavy breath.

Outside, the crisp night air bounced all around and carried on it the thick scent of the first bits of the settling mountain snow nearby. Eyeing the dim light above the apartment door, I reached up and tapped the warm bulb that flickered relentlessly—almost as if it was taunting me for once again not making a move when the opportunity arose. The flickering persisted, so with a carefully executed sharp twist, the bulb sprang to action and soothed my worries about Sarin stepping outside in the darkness.

I leaned over the front railing and stared out at the thick line of pine trees in the distance, as I listened intently for the hints of a motorcycle. I wouldn't leave to attend to business without at least a prospect around. You learned your lesson a few years back that precious cargo always needs to be finely guarded—and Sarin is the most precious of things.

The scent of tobacco wafted upwards to the second floor and the faint hint of the red end of a cigarette illuminated in the dark evening. "You done being a pussy and not giving her what you want to give her?" TinTin's sarcastic voice trailed up over the railing, and further slapped me in the face for my persistent cowardice.

"You done tuggin' your dick down there so I can get shit done?" I mocked back. A sharp laugh was his only response, as he made his way up the concrete steps. Eyeing the cigarette in his mouth I frowned. "You better put that shit out. You know how she feels about smokin' around the babes."

His nose curled in disgust as he reluctantly handed it off to me. "I think sometimes it's just you trying to snag my smokes."

Savoring the taste of the butt between my lips, I inhaled sharply before brushing past him with only a nod. "Works out well for me then."

Right before I hit the bottom step, he judgmentally added, "You know, one of these days you're going to have to admit that you love her."

I scowled over my shoulder. "She already knows how I feel," I snapped back.

TinTin laughed sharply as he ran his tongue over his teeth. "I didn't mean to her."

As he shook his head, I sighed because I got the meaning without needing to hear another word. Everyone important knew how I felt—my brother, my best friend, and her—but for some fucked up reason, I still couldn't really come to terms with it myself. Before I could respond, he turned and knocked twice on the old cream colored door before entering.

Standing frozen for a moment longer, I listened to the sweet sounds of the stereo streaming Sarin's favorite The Mamas & The Papas song. Her soft singing ceased when TinTin entered the room and with the abrupt closure of the door, my heart ached once more.

I stomped down the walkway towards my custom Harley Fat Boy. The moonlight bounced off the polished chrome of her ape hangers, before it settled across the candy burgundy and intermingling brandy wine colors of her intricate paint job—the beautiful bike was my greatest possession in life, next to my President's patch. Swinging my leg over her polished leather seat, I settled and adjusted myself for the short ride back to the clubhouse.

Sarin's sweet scent of green apples and that God-awful jasmine and lilac perfume she insisted on buying still clung to my leather from her closeness, and all it served to do was irritate me further, ready to be a constant reminder on the ride back that I still hadn't pulled the trigger.

"God, you're a stupid asshole," I chastised myself. "Fuck!" I slammed my foot down on my starter and the chopper roared to life like thunder across the city. The street lamp next to where I was parked trembled as the sound reverberated off the metal and a few prying eyes peeked out from the safety of their curtains.

She roared as I gunned her engine, overpowering the sound of any cars that dared to be on the long stretch of road that led to the Devil's Henchmen's clubhouse. Logan tossed open the side of the large iron gates when he heard me approach and I sped through, vibrating the barbed wire on top of the fence surrounding our storage shed. It jiggled in unison with the beats of the music that spilled from the open front door.

The grey trim around the black concrete stood out, as the rest of the imposing building blended expertly with the dark evening and when I came to a stop, I tucked my bike into the garage next to Levi's. Killing the engine, I let the lingering scent of motor oil invade my senses, hoping it would drown out any remnants of jasmine that I could almost taste on my tongue.

Once the gate was secure, Logan headed towards the garages as he puffed on the small remnants of an almost pitiful joint. "Everything gravy, Prez?" He inquired as he clenched the joint between the tips of his fingernails and took a careful drag.

"As gravy as Thanksgivin'... You should find Tabby and give her a smile for a refill." I nodded to his joint and he chuckled.

"Who do you think took pity on me for this one?"

"Then you must be on her bad side if she only gave you scraps," I teased. "You headed on rounds?" When Logan nodded, I added, "Check the dogs while back on the forty and make sure the heater is on in the kennel."

"Sure thing," he reassured as he took the last drag off his roach and snubbed the rest out on the stucco of the garage wall.

A few sharp laughs and the clanging of glass caught my attention as a couple members spilled from the back door. Stumbling, they headed to the small fire pit that Sarin had insisted we put in recently. The hard plastic chairs creaked under their imposing body weight causing me to shake my head as I picked up and drew a rag over my bike to wipe off the condensation. If any of them breaks one of Sarin's purple patio chairs, they'll sure have hell to pay. That girl loved to "pretty" up the clubhouse with her strategic pops of color.

Reluctantly shaking the thought of her from my crowded mind, I tossed the rag on the wooden work bench and headed past the drunken merriment. A flash of exposed breasts whirled by as one of the club girls was being hoisted over a shoulder, and her giggles prickled at my skin, causing my annoyance level to peak severely. My temperament was souring quickly. Normally, I would hang out and have a round of drinks, but the lingering worry about my brother hung in the air around.

Catching Tabby by the arm as she darted by carrying a handful of beers, her warm smile slightly cooled my bubbling inferno of unpleasantness.

"Hey, Prez!" She flipped her long, soft peony pink hair over her shoulder. "Can I get you something? A drink, a smoke, a friend? Or the trifecta of Friday night fun?" she joked with a smile.

I shook my head. "Find Reap and send him to my office. ASAP!" I barked out the order a little too forcefully and instantly regretted it when she shied away in fear. Dialing down my annoyance I sighed and calmly said, "As soon as you can, Okay?" Tabby quietly nodded as I let go of her arm and headed in the direction of my office. Stopping before I reached the hall I looked back at her. "Hey, we're good, Tabs."

She nodded but didn't smile like normal. "Always good, Jacko." She turned to serve a few more outlaws that were congregated in the bar room with her special brand of Tabatha sunshine.

The desk lamp was the only light in the dark office, and for a moment, if I inhaled sharply I could still smell the blood that lingered in the cracks of the wooden floor; like my father's life had seeped into the concrete foundation as a constant reminder of the horrible things that had happened in that office. It'll always be a place where blood has been spilled and tears have been shed all because of jealousy and vengeance.

Rounding the desk in the dark, I sat down in the new leather seat and propped my elbows up on the ornate armrests as I rested my chin on my hands. The dark wooden walls thumped gently from the party in the main room, but the stillness of the room caused a shiver to descend up my spine.

"Something isn't right," I said to the silence. "I can feel it in my bones..." Yet I couldn't put my finger on exactly what was out of place.

What was that sayin' about shit and a fan? I racked my brain for the exact words that my father used to use when he was talking about trouble, but for the life of me, I couldn't put my finger on them. I could hear his voice in my head chastising my every decision, but I couldn't hear him give that one piece of advice.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I waited for Reaper or whatever it was to hit whatever fan it was going to hit. I closed my eyes just as the door to the office pushed open and Reaper's grumpy expression filled the darkness.

"Didn't realize I was being called to a pity party?" he growled out in a deep, raspy voice. "We plan on hanging out in the dark and telling all our hopes and dreams? Maybe some ghost stories?"

"You're late," I snapped; unamused with his teasing, I switched on the desk light allowing my glare to speak measures to my disagreement.

"Yeah, I know!" he bit back in challenge. "The baby's fussy as all hell and Belle was at her wits end." Not long before Sarin had her twins, Reaper Ramirez's lady had given birth to their son, aptly named Benny Junior. Reaper had adjusted to father life a little too slowly for Belle's tastes and it showed sometimes, especially when she put him through the daddy ringer.

"Well, he is your son," I commented with a slight air of amusement as my annoyance began to settle. "If ever there was a fussy man for a child to take after, it's you." What I didn't let on was that I couldn't wait to see what kind of man Benny Jr. grew up to be. If he's half the man his father is, I'll gladly patch him over without thought and slap an Enforcer title on him. "Still can't believe you named him Benny Jr. though," I teased, as Reaper flicked on the wall light and settled into the seat on the other side of the desk.

"A man's got to have a namesake. Especially in this world."

"Yeah, well I'll be sure to have the perfect nickname picked out for him when he prospects. I'm thinkin'..." I tapped my chin as a glare formed on Reaper's face.

A low growl rumbled in his chest. "If you start this BJ shit again!" he warned, but with a playfulness to his angry tone.

"Nah. You're the one what went and did that shit all on your own." I laughed. Clapping my hands down on the desktop, I grinned mischievously. "I know just the name... His road name'll be Blowjob. You know, to keep with your whole love of a good BJ!"

We both burst out into laughter, and he dabbed his eyes with the corner of his hand. "Fuck's sake, Belle will absolutely kill us!" he warned.

"I'm sure of that shit but anyone who names their kid BJ while in a club deserves every bit of shit they get," I teased back but then sighed. "I snapped at Tabs earlier," I admitted.

"I wondered why she looked like someone let the air out of her sails but she's used to grumpy, living here all her life."

"True... But still. I should—" The door burst open and interrupted my thought.

Rigs stepped inside in a mild panic and extreme concern lined his Italian features. "We've got a problem." He took a couple sharp breaths and I could imagine that his heart was beating a million miles a minute.

"There's always a problem. What's it now?" Reaper prodded forcefully.

"The shipment... We lost the shipment," Rigs admitted, as he stepped inside the office and swiftly closed the door.

"God dammit!" I slammed my hands down on the desk as I stood and kicked my chair against the wall with a sharp thud. "Where the fuck is our crew?"

Rigs's expression dropped and for a moment, my heart figuratively sunk to my stomach. "The Feds hit the convoy outside Vegas. Don't know how the fuck they got the intel cause I made sure that shit was as clean as a washed baby's butt," he chastised himself.

"Focus!" I snapped my fingers to get him back on track.

He sighed, struggling to regain his composure. "A few guys avoided the roadblock but the rest were taken down."

"What about Levi?" I prodded as the concern brewed.

Rigs shook his head. "That's the thing, Jacko... One casualty was reported and one injury. One of those is Phantom, I just don't know which."

My stomach further dropped to the floor, and in that moment of panic and unsurety, there was only one place I desperately needed to be. "Get the fuck on it and find out!" I ordered as I pushed past him and the rest of the bustling party.

I bypassed my bike in favor of my truck and slammed down the gas pedal. The back tires spun across the gravel and vaulted me forward towards the steel gates.

"Get that shit open!" I hollered, as I swiftly approached, and a prospect rushed out and yanked the side open. "You're fuckin' lucky you're quick or someone's ass is gettin' kicked if I had to ram those," I told myself as I barreled down the road.

The whole drive to Sarin's, all I could see was her face—her tears and her life without my brother in it. How will those boys grow up if he's dead? How could something like this happen?

I took the concrete steps two at a time, not even sure if I put the truck in park when I went up over the small curb. I tried to compose myself and not bust her door down, and when I opened it, she was standing at the small counter as she stirred honey into a mug of tea. She softly blew on the steam as she looked over her shoulder, and her eyes widened in shock to see me standing there.

"Jackson?" She froze in apprehension. "What's wrong?"

"Sarin." I tried to push the words out, but what could I even tell her? I didn't even know everything myself. "It's Levi..."

The sound of her mug shattering against the tiles of the floor rang out all around, followed by the shrill cries of two small babies.

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A/N: Welcome Back All!

Welcome to book 3. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please don't forget to click the vote button.

Things are still very much in sexual tension territory for our two favorites. Looks like Jacko has some internal issues he needs to deal with and no where better to do that than a whole novel! 

Before anyone screams, Levi isn't dead (we know this thanks to the epilogue in book 1). Someone's dead, but is Levi injured and pinched by the feds, or did he make it out of the takedown? We will see...

Get ready for one hell of a ride!

<3 Amina

***Updates are as I finish them in CampNano, so please don't bombard me with messages or comments to update. I promise I am slowly working through this to get it back on track.