Chapter 1
Chapter
One
BONES
The weather had turned cold, damp, and miserable. Fitting for a funeral. Grief clung to everything, soaking into skin and bone.
Doc’s “gang” had been kids when he enlisted. Now they were older, harder—but still a mess. His girl was nearly half his age, and the fact that the rest of them were also involved with her made our job... complicated.
“Sorry,” Doc said as he stepped out into the warehouse. The others were still inside. Voodoo, Lunchbox, and I were already suited up. Funeral black. Anonymous. We'd blend in, stay watchful.
This time, we weren’t there to fight.
We were there to protect.
“You don’t have to apologize,” I told him. Didn’t matter what he thought he was apologizing for. “You need us. We came.”
End of story.
He ran a hand through his hair and gave me a tired smile. Doc had always been steady under pressure—the kind of medic who fought like hell for every life. Even under fire, he never flinched.
“You’re not happy to be here,” he said. Not a judgment. Just a fact.
“No,” I admitted. No point pretending. “But we’re here. Until it’s done. You focus on you and your girl. We’ve got your back.”
“Your girl?” It was the first time he said it out loud. Maybe he hadn’t fully processed it before. But I’d seen it—the flicker of understanding in his eyes every time he looked at Grace.
“She’s fine.” That was as much as I was going to give him. “She and Alphabet will stay behind while we’re at the service. They’ll pull out before we return.”
I’d been reviewing the security here, and I didn’t like what I saw. Doc’s people were loyal, sure—but they were also tangled up in criminal shit. Not my place to judge.
But Grace was ours.
Mine.
“Bones—” He exhaled sharply. Our eyes met, and beneath the exhaustion was a storm of grief, fury, and fear. “I should be more worried about this. And I will be. Later.”
“Noted.”
“For now... thanks for being here.”
I gave a nod. “Let us worry. You take care of your girl.”
Fifteen minutes later, we were on our way to the chapel. Alphabet had installed cameras the day before. We’d been watching the feed all night and again that morning.
No ambushes. So far.
Inside, we fanned out. One of us stayed within reach of Doc and his girl at all times. If they split, we adjusted. Doc’s crew added a buffer, but grief made poor sentries. They were coated in it—thick and oily.
I wouldn’t count on them to see danger coming.
The room was nearly full. We wouldn’t sit. Voodoo moved to the doors. Lunchbox posted up front for a wide view. Once the service began, I’d rotate Voodoo out for an exterior sweep.
“Minister says we’re starting soon,” Lunchbox said over comms. “Thinks everyone’s here. Want to confirm with Doc?”
I moved toward him, where he stood with his girl. “Doc…”
“Yeah, Bones. Thanks. Stick close to Little Bit if I get pulled away?”
I glanced at her. Pale, drawn, eyes wide. She looked like someone who’d barely survived a war.
“We’ve got her,” I said. “And you. The minister says we’re at capacity. He’s ready to start—unless you need more time.”
Delaying wouldn’t change anything, but I understood the instinct. Every second stretched out the goodbye.
“We’re good,” he said finally, reaching for her hand.
They moved to their seats. The rest followed, one by one.
I gave the room one more sweep, nodded to Lunchbox, then stepped in to relieve Voodoo.
“I’ve got all angles,” Alphabet said in our ears. “We’re covered.”
Yeah. We were.
No one was going to interrupt their mourning.
Day one after the funeral went smoothly enough. Doc and his people were locked down, and we rotated security at the warehouse where they lived. The existing setup—both perimeter and internal—was decent.
We made it better.
Alphabet combed through the surveillance feeds, flagged weak spots, and we got the upgrades in. Cameras now covered the front, back, and interior. Inside their living quarters, the system remained separate—for privacy. Alphabet left that setup alone, working within its limits.
Trip alarms were in place. If someone failed the code twice trying to access the clubhouse, we’d get pinged. That also gave them a way to signal us under duress—fail on purpose, cameras kick in, the alert goes out.
It was solid. Temporary. Once we dealt with the bigger problems, we could remove ourselves as the first failsafe.
My phone buzzed as I reached the apartment we’d taken—three blocks out, top floor of a cleared building.
Voodoo: Doc wants to take his girl to his place tomorrow. He needs a break.
Me: Understood. Just give me a time.
Voodoo: Done.
I was at the door when the next message came through.
Voodoo: You talk to Grace yet?
Me: There now.
Voodoo: Good luck.
I snorted. It wasn’t luck I needed.
The door swung open and a book came flying at my head. I barely caught it and eyed the chaos gremlin on the other end of the room. Wild blue eyes glared at me, her hair pulled up in a high ponytail, sunlight catching the dark strands like a warning flare.
“Good morning to you too, Dollface,” I said, keeping my voice even.
The color on her cheeks deepened—fury now, but it looked a hell of a lot like the flush she got when she came.
“There’s nothing good about it, Boney Boy.”
Well. That answered that. I glanced at the book. Sick Boys. Heavy. “Bad book?”
She grabbed a marble frog and hurled it at me. I caught that too. The edges bit into my palm. Good arm on her.
Setting it down, I crossed the room.
No, I didn’t need luck.
I needed body armor.
“Don’t you dare,” she growled, pressing a hand to my chest.
“Dare what?” I raised an eyebrow, then lifted her by the hips so I could sit and settle her in my lap.
She twisted, straddling me. That worked.
“This.” She waved her hands in agitation. “Sticking me here like I’m in time-out.”
“You don’t like the place?” I glanced around. It was clean, quiet, and decent. Voodoo had stocked it well—a coffee machine, her favorite beans, all the bells and whistles.
She let out a long sigh, tipping her head back. Her neck arched, breasts pressing against her cotton top. I kept my gaze on her jaw.
“It’s not about liking it,” she muttered. “It’s about being sidelined while you guys are out there.”
“We’re running security, not chasing targets,” I said. “If anything, we’re bait.”
She smacked my chest again—no heat behind it, just frustration. “Exactly. You’re out there taking hits while I’m stuck in here twiddling my thumbs.”
“Then maybe don’t throw your book,” I said. “You’ll have something to do.”
The glare she gave me sent a wave of heat through my blood.
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
I tightened my grip on her hips, ignoring the itch to tear those little shorts off and change the subject entirely.
“Dollface,” I said. “I don’t have to try. You’ve got a temper—and you like losing it.”
Her mouth formed a perfect little O, and I almost laughed. She growled, tried to push off of me. I pulled her back. A short tug-of-war ended with her throwing a punch.
I caught her fist, then the second. Hands pinned behind her back, I wrapped one arm around her.
I was careful, the last thing I wanted to do was break any of those gorgeous nails she’d just gotten manicured along with the pedicure that Voodoo took her to get.
That bit of pampering had put her in a better mood.
If only it had lasted.
“Right,” I said, voice low. “You’re in a mood. Let’s fix it—then we’ll talk.”
“Excuse me?” Warning echoed in those syllables and I just slid my free hand down into her shorts and found her soaking cunt. Her pupils dilated and her nostrils flared. “This does not mean we’re done fighting.”
“I know, Dollface,” I promised as I began to massage that swollen clit of hers. I guided the movements to the responsiveness of her reactions. The first orgasm had her crying out and riding my hand. By the time the second one hit her, I felt safe in releasing her wrists.
The third left her hanging onto me and shuddering. My cock was in hell, but I left it there. I needed to keep my head and getting her off was also the best way to curb that temper of hers, every bit as much as it helped chase away her fears.
With her breath hot against my throat, I licked my fingers clean and savored the sweetness of her. “Feel better?”
“I hate you,” she muttered.
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No,” I murmured and stroked her back. “You don’t.”
At her silence, I smiled.
“Want another orgasm?”
“I might die.”
“Well,” I said and lifted her over onto the sofa and onto her back, I peeled the shorts right off and stared down at that pink pussy of hers. “Let’s find out.”
I kept it only to my fingers, but I used both hands this time and when she surged her hips up as she cried out, some of my control frayed.
We needed to get her home and somewhere secure.
Then I could take the time to explore her the way I’d discovered I really wanted.
That night, after she’d gone to sleep—sated, warm, finally relaxed—I sat by the window, one foot braced on the ledge and my hand curled around a cooling cup of coffee. City lights blinked out across the blocks like a bad heartbeat.
Alphabet had come back with Goblin late that afternoon, but he’d left us alone until after the quiet settled over the apartment like dust.
“She’s not happy,” he reminded me as he stepped into the room, scratching behind Goblin’s ears. The mutt gave a grunt and flopped down with a groan.
“I’m aware. Her happiness is not my primary concern at the moment.”
“Bones…” Alphabet sighed and grimaced, rubbing his thigh. Goblin had dragged him for a full mile at least—he needed the break. Voodoo and Lunchbox were on perimeter. I’d relieve them in an hour. I preferred the overnights. They let me think, or at least pretend thinking did any good.
“I’m listening,” I said, not looking at him.
“You know this isn’t all on you, right?”
I didn’t answer immediately. That was the kind of thing people said when they meant well, but didn’t understand. Or did—and didn’t want to deal with what came next.
“I put Doc on that job,” I said quietly. “I put all of you out there. Told you we had your backs.”
Alphabet exhaled, slow and tired, like he’d been holding that breath too.
“You did have our backs,” he said. “We’re both alive because you had our backs.”
“He went home. Rebuilt a life and now someone took his sister. He wants us here to protect his girl, his kids, him—he’s the walking wounded in that warehouse and under guard like a civilian. That’s not who he is or was.”
“People get hit in this world. He’s alive, Bones. He’s not blaming you.” Alphabet stared at me and waited until my gaze drifted back to him. “I don’t blame you either.”
“I don’t care if either of you do,” I said, and I meant it. “I blame me.”
Alphabet rose, grimacing again as he stretched. “You’re carrying all of it. That’s not tactical. That’s emotional.”
“Everything about this is emotional,” I snapped, then lowered my voice as I glanced toward the bedroom door. No sound. No movement. Grace was still asleep. “You think I’m splitting hairs because I want to? This is personal. But Grace…”
My throat locked up for a second. I pushed on.
“She’s different. I can’t risk her being part of this, Alphabet. None of us can. It’s one thing when we’re working her job, but this one is about standing in front of the bullets. She’s not built for that.” Even if she was, I wasn’t.
“You sure about that?” he asked. Not antagonistic—just curious.
“She’s survived a lot. Doesn’t mean I want to add more to her list.” I tapped my fingers against the ceramic mug, tension ticking in time.
“Every time I see her upset, every time she glares or throws something or tries to argue her way in, I see it—she thinks I’m locking her out. I’m not. I’m keeping her alive.”
Alphabet was quiet for a long beat. Then, “You love her.”
I gave him a look.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t say it. Doesn’t mean it’s not obvious.”
“It’s not about love,” I muttered. “It’s about obligation.”
He snorted. “That’s a lie you tell yourself so you don’t have to admit how much this is fucking with you.”
I didn’t argue. Couldn’t.
“I need the lines clear,” I said instead. “She doesn’t belong in the same world as the Vandals. They’re Doc’s kids and they might not be the worst people but they’re criminals.”
They came with their own enemies. Grace had enough problems, she did not need these.
“No one’s about to let that happen to her.” Alphabet glanced down at Goblin who’d come to lean against his leg. “She matters to us too, you know.”
“I’m not blind.” It came out clipped. “This fight isn’t hers.”
His expression tightened. “I get it. You’re on edge. But if you shut everyone out trying to control the chaos, you’ll miss something. You can’t see every angle.”
“I have to.”
“You want to. But that’s different.” He leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Let us carry some of it. That’s why we’re here. And Grace? She’s smart. She’s fierce as hell. You give her a little more clarity, she might stop throwing frogs at your head.”
That drew a half-huff of a laugh out of me. “That thing hurt.”
“She’s got good aim.”
I ran a hand down my face, exhausted but still very much wired beneath the skin.
“She asked me today why I stuck her in the apartment like it was a cage,” I said. “I didn’t tell her it’s the only place I can breathe when she’s not in the room.”
Alphabet gave me a long look, then stood, joints popping.
“You going to tell her that?”
“No.”
“Maybe try it. You don’t need to give her the whole op. Just the truth.”
I didn’t answer. He didn’t wait.
“Wake me before your shift’s up,” he said, and whistled for Goblin. “And Bones?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“We’ve got your back. Always have. Don’t forget it.”
The door clicked shut behind him. I sat there, watching the lights blink and blur until my reflection stared back in the darkened glass, all sharp lines and heavier eyes.
I didn’t forget.
That was the problem.