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I sucked in a ragged breath, biting back tears as I thought of him cruising on that motorcycle in that vest that boasts about his disregard for the law. His father had died in the line of duty, and he was out here shamelessly spitting on all that Patrick had stood for and taught our boys.

I shook my head, swiped my tears, and flung the remnants of the coffee over the flowers Patrick had helped me plant.

I just needed a shower, and a few minutes to collect my thoughts and cool off. An ember deep inside me smoldered at the thought of C.C. encouraging my Victor into embracing that life. Had he vouched for my boy?

I headed for the sink to drop my coffee mug off before the shower, that ember igniting into a flame the more I thought about it.

One thought came rushing to me, causing me to drop the coffee cup rather than sit it in the sink. The handle busted, and that ember exploded inside me.

Were the Steel Disciples the reason my son had killed someone? Was that some kind of initiation or something?

The throbbing in my head was unbearable, and my temper was past the point of reason. I flew toward the bedroom and threw clothes on without giving a damn about my appearance. I shoved my feet into my shoes, and grabbed Patrick’s nine-millimeter from his nightstand, then threw it in my purse.

I didn’t know what was real anymore, but I knew one thing for sure; I’d put a bullet in Cole Henshaw if I found out he had anything to do with my son’s conviction.

I was breathing heavily, and gripping the purse strap so hard the leather seam was biting into my hand as I stepped out onto the porch.

The empty driveway brought another dose of reality.

I’d have to drive.

I shakily grabbed the handle of the screen door and went back inside. Near the hallway entrance, hung a key rack. I eventually decided on a set, and started back outside. My hands trembled as I turned on the ignition and gripped the wheel.

“You can do this, Bren,” I coached myself, as I shifted it into reverse and moved like a turtle toward the street.

I doubt I moved any faster than forty on the highway, but I got there.

The front of the place was littered in bikes, but it wasn’t like I could tell one from the other. I’d just been staring at Victor’s while he worked on it, but even those details escaped me. I had no way of knowing if he was there or not, and there was only way to find out.

Rocks skidded a little when I finally chose a place to park. I hadn’t meant to be so obvious, but my nerves got the best of me. I tried to press the brake and ended up punching it instead. When I finally got the thing shifted into park, I took the gun out of my bag, switched the safety button, and pulled back the slide. I’d never been overly fond of firearms, but the sound it made when I pulled the slide back suddenly filled me with confidence. I shut the engine off and ignored the squeak of the door when I threw it open. I placed the gun in my purse and ran my hand over the strap, allowing the texture of the seam to sooth me while I approached the front door.

I knew if I went inside hysterically, I probably wouldn’t get very far.

The door pushed open like all were welcome, the dark, smokey interior of the place told a different story. It was supposed to be Miller’s Trucking, but the receptionist seat was empty. I followed the stale cigarette stench toward a set of double doors. With my hand flat on the door, I pushed it open as well, only to flinch at the sound of the music that greeted me. I hadn’t heard it out there, but it was deafening and the lighting was worse than the entry.

“You lost, sweetheart?” a straggly-looking bastard behind the bar asked.

“No.” I simply answered him, as I started toward the sound of voices.

“Hey.” The man laughed.

When I didn’t acknowledge his call, he began to trot after me. The end of the bar had a piece that flipped up and down to permit the bartender entry. It was lifted open, the floor glistening in the proof of his mopping efforts. I knew he’d reach me before I managed to get to those voices, but I surprised myself a little, when I responded to his rushed steps and low throaty growl, by flinging the countertop back down just as he grabbed the edge to round it. I barely heard the sound of metal on bone over his howling.

“Save me the time of hunting him, good man.” I patted the top of the counter, causing him to roar and swipe at me.

“What the hell?” Cole yelled, as he emerged from the back room with two other men.

I knew one was his brother. The other one I’d seen before, but I don’t think I ever caught his name. Not that it mattered, his name was as irrelevant to me as he was.

All I could see was a parasite that had led my baby down a path he couldn’t come back from. Victor would carry that manslaughter charge for the rest of his life.

Cole wrapped his arm around my shoulder, drawing me into him, just as I shoved the nose of the nine-millimeter against the center of his chest.

He must have been familiar with the sensation; he froze despite the confusion in his soulful eyes.

“Why?” I heaved.

My jaw tensed, my teeth ground, but I didn’t pull the trigger.