Kane (Redline Kings MC #1)

Chapter 1

SAVANNAH

M y back ached, and my hair smelled like espresso, but at least I drank more than my fair share of coffee during my shift. Even better, the tips were actually decent today. A double win, as far as I was concerned.

“You probably should’ve skipped that last triple-shot latte,” Dory murmured as she flipped the Closed sign on the front door of Bean There Brewed That.

Our shift ended forty minutes ago, but we’d stayed late scrubbing the milk steamer because the new hire left a trail of destruction in her wake.

I shook my head. “Nah, I need the caffeine if I’m going to get any studying done tonight.”

“I don’t know how you manage to get anything done after a day like today.” Dory patted me on the back. “But I have no doubt you’ll ace that exam. You’re too determined for anything else.”

“I hope you’re right,” I mumbled as she locked the door behind us.

Summer was already halfway over, and I still didn’t feel even remotely prepared for my paralegal certification exam.

Working full-time at the café ate up too much of my time, but bills didn’t pay themselves.

And my parents were firm believers that their job was done once their children graduated from high school, so I was on my own.

Just like my older brother had been when he joined the police academy more than a decade ago.

Except Devon had been lucky enough to live in our childhood home until he could afford a small house.

Unfortunately for me, our parents were antsy to get away once I turned eighteen.

With the twelve-year gap between my brother and me, they could barely wait to be empty nesters.

So they sold the house a few months after my high school graduation and used that money to purchase a cabin on a fifteen-year, residential cruise to just about every port in the world.

Which meant that I needed to earn enough to pay for somewhere to live while studying as much as I could.

I waved goodbye to Dory, trudged across the lot to my beat-up sedan, and slumped into the driver’s seat. I’d parked under a tree and left the windows cracked, but it still felt like an oven. Cranking the AC, I pulled my hair into a messy bun and drove home.

My apartment was only five minutes away, a tiny upstairs unit above a florist shop on the main road in downtown Wedgewood, my hometown.

The walk up the narrow outdoor staircase wasn’t fun after a long shift, but the second I got inside, I kicked off my shoes, chugged a glass of water, and collapsed onto the couch.

All I wanted to do was stretch out and take a nap, but I couldn’t afford to skip my studying.

Snagging my study guide, I flipped to the civil procedures section and grabbed a highlighter. Quickly getting lost in the intricacies of the service of pleadings, motions, and discovery, it was almost midnight before I got up again.

I decided to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I couldn’t help but think about my brother as I took the first bite because he used to make them for me as an afternoon snack when I was in middle school.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. We hadn’t talked much lately, and I hated how that gnawed at me. Devon used to be the first person I called when things got tough. But he’d been distant lately, and I had no idea why.

A knock on the door made me jump, peanut butter smearing across my cheek as I fumbled with the sandwich.

It was almost midnight. Nobody ever visited this late…

unless something was wrong. My pulse leaped as I considered all the things that could’ve happened to Devon as a patrol officer.

Dropping my plate on the counter, I raced over to the front window, trying to peer through the blinds.

Relief flooded me when I saw the figure standing under the porch light.

I yanked the door open. “What the heck, Dev? You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry, Sis.” My brother raked his fingers through his hair. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” I stepped aside to let him in, noticing how bad he looked. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, as if he’d gotten even less sleep than me. His uniform was wrinkled instead of perfectly pressed like usual. And his shoes looked as though they hadn’t been polished in weeks.

“You look like hell,” I muttered.

His mouth curved into a tired smile. “Gee, thanks.”

He perched on the arm of the couch.

“Okay.” I shut the door and leaned against it. “You wanna tell me what’s going on, or should I start guessing?”

“I’m fine. Just realized it’s been a while and wanted to check in.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Try again.”

Devon dragged a hand down his face and let out a rough sigh. “I’m under internal review.”

My eyes widened, my brows drawing together over them. “For what?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Procedural misstep.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything at all.”

“It’s not a big deal.” He didn’t look me in the eye as he added, “Just IA poking around because they don’t have anything better to do.”

“Dev—”

“I’m serious,” he cut in. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

I might’ve bought that, except he was clearly worried. Devon had always been cool under pressure. But tonight, his bouncing leg told a different story. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“I’m telling you what I can.” He stood suddenly, pacing to the window to peek through the blinds. “I just wanted to let you know I’ll be off the grid for a bit.”

“Off the grid?” I echoed. “What does that even mean?”

“I need a break.”

My pulse leaped for real now. “Is someone after you?”

“It’s safer if you don’t know.”

“You’re scaring me,” I whispered. “Talk to me, Dev. Please.”

He hesitated before shaking his head. “I’m handling it. I promise.”

I didn’t believe him—not for a second. But I also knew the look in his eyes. He wasn’t going to tell me more, no matter how hard I pushed.

So I didn’t. “Is there anything you need? I haven’t shopped in a while, but I have a box of those chocolate-dipped granola bars that you love in the pantry.”

“That’d be great.” As I headed toward the kitchen area, he asked, “Can I use your bathroom before I head out?”

“Sure.”

After I grabbed the granola bars and a few other things he liked, I noticed he set his jacket on the couch.

A rolled-up folder stuck out from the inside pocket, and my curiosity got the better of me.

Setting the bag of supplies down next to it, I shifted the folder enough to see a name on the tab—Bayfront Logistics.

It wasn’t a company I’d ever heard of before, but the bathroom door opened before I could see what was inside.

I didn’t ask about it as he gave me a hug, but the second the door shut behind him, I grabbed my laptop and typed “Bayfront Logistics” into the search bar, hoping for something that would tell me what the heck my brother had gotten himself into.

The first result that popped up was the company website, but that didn’t give me much to go on. The site was generic, with stock images and vague promises about freight efficiency. There were no executive bios or press releases. Just a Contact Us form in place of a phone number or address.

Frustrated by how little information their site provided, I ran a business search through the state’s registry.

The company was based in Crossbend, which wasn’t far from here, but there were zero employee names listed.

Just a registered agent and a holding corporation that led to another shell company.

I refined my search by adding “Crossbend” and finally found something buried two pages down in the results. A brief mention in the city’s zoning board minutes of someone named Kane Beckett in connection with the company.

I clicked faster, fingers flying over the keyboard as results started popping up left and right when I did a search on him.

The guy was a billionaire who dominated just about every car racing report.

It wasn’t until I dug through racing forums that I found whispers of an underground circuit.

Every thread that mentioned Kane had the same tone—vague but respectful.

And fearful, especially the posts that talked about how he formed the Redline Kings MC. Which didn’t bode well for my brother.

I grabbed my phone and called him.

He answered on the second ring. “Savannah?”

The sound of his voice made my chest ache. “What is Bayfront Logistics?”

Silence.

“You left a folder in your jacket. I saw the name,” I explained. “And I looked it up. It’s based in Crossbend, and there’s barely anything on it, except maybe a link to someone named Kane Beckett. Who is he? What’s going on?”

“Dammit,” he muttered, low and sharp. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

I shot to my feet. “Then tell me why you’re looking into a company whose online footprint is suspicious.”

“I can’t explain it, not right now. But you need to stay out of this. Do you hear me?” His voice rose with urgency. “You don’t know who these people are. They’re not regular bad guys. If you poke the wrong way, they’ll come for you.”

My hands shook. “Devon?—”

“I’m serious. Stay away from Crossbend. Stay away from Beckett. I’ll contact you when it’s safe.”

The line went dead, and I stared at my phone in stunned silence.

There was no mistaking it after that call—my brother was in trouble. And with the IA investigation, there probably wasn't a lot he could do to get himself out of this mess without risking more questions. But nobody was watching my every step.

Crossbend was only a few towns over.

If Devon wouldn’t tell me the truth, I’d find it myself.

And if Kane Beckett was the key to clearing my brother’s name, then I’d just have to find him too.