Evelyn's dream of securing a scholarship to America's top ballet school shattered when her mother was brutally murdered during her teenage years. Determined to make a difference, she became a detective, ready to take on the world. Assigned to invest...
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The bar reeked of beer and smoke, the air heavy with sweat and tension. It had been days since Emma and Evelyn stumbled into the MC all bloody. A young biker leaned forward on the bar, his elbows on the sticky wood of the counter, and glared across the room at Jax, the president as if he was looking for answers.
"We need to do something," The young biker said, his voice cutting through the low hum of conversation around the bar.
"It's been days since they came here, and they're still off in some other world. Not lifting a finger for the club." Jeremiah's jaw tightened. The words stung, not because they were entirely wrong- Emma and Evelyn did disappear for hours into their shared room, but because they dripped with disrespect. He'd seen the way the others looked at them, like they didn't belong, like their grief was an inconvenience. Rumors about the police and how this was some kind of trick had been spread as Jax wanted their reasons to be hidden until Evelyn or Emma was ready for the truth to come out.
"They're not even members," the biker slurred, his beer-slick fingers gesturing wildly.
"Why should they get to stay here for free?" The words hit Jeremiah's chest like a hammer. Heat rose in his blood until it was a living, breathing thing, clawing its way up his throat, begging to be unleashed. His fist itched to connect with the man's jaw, to silence him with one perfect blow. Even in the low, flickering light, Jeremiah could picture the exact spot he'd land it. He was just starting to rise from his chair when Jax stood. The room went still. Jax didn't speak often about what had happen, but when he did, every man in the room listened. The music cut off, leaving behind the faint hum of neon and the distant clink of glass in the bar.
"I know not everyone understands why the two women are here," Jax's voice rolled over them, deep and rough, shaking loose the tension like thunder cracking through storm clouds. A ripple of whispers swept through the room.
"Emma," Jax said, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, pinning each man where he sat.
"Lost her husband to a hitman. Someone sent to make it look like wewere behind murders we never committed." The words settled over the room like ash. Jax looked exhausted, and Jeremiah hated it. Jax hadn't plan to tell the bikers until he had a plan or Evelyn was strong enough to explain herself, but this movement against them was getting to much for the inner circle. Jeremiah had never seen his president so worn down, shoulders bent under the weight of weeks of chaos.
"The man who was killed was James," Jax went on, his tone sharpening.
"Evelyn's partner in the force, together, they'd been digging into the police and found enough proof to show just how desperate they are to bury us." Jax paused, letting the truth hang in the air until the silence felt heavy enough to break.
"He was caught getting that proof. And killed right in front of Evelyn." His voice darkened remembering the eyes of Evelyn, the hunting memories in her eyes. She had been having nightmares, Jeremiah had told them all how she woke up every night screaming in fear.
