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take a lot of fucking getting used to. I shook it off, and everyone came down, no one saying anything to me, instead moving over to where Ryder was standing.

“Oh, fuck! Holy shit!” Prez said from upstairs before running down and trying to get to me. Ryder grabbed him with his free hand, stopping him from his approach.

“Clean, get Wire.”

Clean took off and ran into church. Seconds later, Wire rushed out, still putting his black t-shirt on and over his head.

Wire turned his head and looked at me.

Relief.

It was only there for a brief second, but I saw the expression on his face.

Wire, the man I once called president. The one I knew would find me, the man I was so willing to give my life for strolled forward, his hand on the gun that was tucked securely into his jeans. “So far, you have tried to kill Storm, and you have put your hands on the VP of this club. You should be in the ground right now. You know the rules, Ink.”

I rolled my eyes and looked around, who the fuck was he talking to, “You are out of your mind. After all the shit, you really think I give a fuck about your bullshit rules?” I shook my head at the audacity.

“Then what the fuck are you here for?” Wire asked, stepping closer to me.

The nerve, “Answers!” I shouted at him, “I want motherfucking answers.” I stepped to the side, looking up at the signs above the bar, the one that had been burned down so many times. It was simple and just three short words.

Family. Brothers. Club.

Those words had meant everything to me because, at one time, they were all the same. This club, these raw misfit bikers, all of them were my family. My family left me to die. I pointed up to the sign, “You spout all this shit about being brothers, about laying your life down for the patch. Loyalty. Fucking lies!” I roared at him.

He was shaking his head, “What the fuck are you talking about. None of that was lies. It’s never been.”

“Yeah? Well then, let me ask you a motherfucking question. When I was strung up and tortured because I wouldn’t snitch on my brothers, where the fuck were you? Every time I was dragged across oceans back to the same fucking pier we left from, where the fuck were my brothers?” I shook my head and walked closer to him, “No, no, that shit only matters when it’s convenient for you.”

“How the fuck can you say that shit?” Wire spoke his voice void of any anger, just disbelief. It pissed me off.

“How?” I grabbed him by the collar of his black shirt. All the patched members and the prospects, rushing in to pull me off, but Wire raised his hand to stop them. Bad choice. “You abandoned me. I gave up my life, my freedom, my sanity, everything I am to stay loyal to this fucking club because I knew you’d come. You never showed. You forgot about me.”

Wire just looked at me, his hands relaxed and holding onto my arms. “No.” Wire shook his head. Sorrow.

“We never forgot about you.” Prez chimed in from the side. “We never stopped searching.”

“Finding you has been our top priority since you were taken. We did everything we could to find you. There’s been a gaping hole in the very soul of this club, but you’re home now. Brother.” Wire pushed at my arms and wrapped his around me. He was hugging me.

What the fuck? What… the… fuck?

“Look!” Clean said from the side of me, he was huffing and puffing as he dropped four boxes. I had no idea where he’d come from or when he left. I turned from Wire, still in disbelief. I opened the top of the first box and pulled out a stack of papers, location reports. Weekly, dated back to four years ago. Missing person sketches. Still pictures. Copies of text messages, emails. Flight records. Correspondence with the mob. All of it dated back to when we were kidnapped until last week; boxes of it.

“We pulled every fucking resource we had, FBI, local police, other MCs, gangs, everyone.” Prez dug in the box and picked up a picture of Angel and I walking along a pier. “We had people watching piers and flights, but your movements were so erratic we couldn’t lock you down. All of us would have gone to hell and back for you; we just couldn’t find you.”

I looked at the proof in my hand. I looked at these men in front of me; I’d been wrong. At least, in the end, I’d been wrong; in the beginning, I was right. I knew they would come for me, and they had. They searched the globe for me for years.

My head felt like it would explode with all the information, and my throat got thick with emotion. I put my hands on my thighs and bent at the waist. I couldn’t believe it.

There was movement above me, but I didn’t even bother to look up.

“Ink,” Wire spoke, my head lifting so I could see his face, “We may never be able to repay you for the sacrifices you have made for this club and your brother’s, but you’ve never lost your place here. Come home. We won’t be whole until you do.” He put his hand out, and someone I didn’t know put a jacket in his hand. He opened it up and showed it to me.

My kutte.

I grabbed it and hugged it in my hands. I put my face into the familiar worn leather, and all the emotions I’d been burying so deep inside of me burst through. My body shuddered with my sobs. I cried for the anger I felt, for the years I’d lost, for the pain and anguish both Angel and I had been through. I cried for it all, and my brothers rallied around me, their arms holding me up.

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