Chapter 15
TYRE
Ifound Kane in his office in the clubhouse, leaning back in his oversized leather chair, his eyes locked on his monitor with a scowl deep enough to carve granite. He glanced up when I knocked once and stepped inside, closing the door behind me with a firm click.
“You look like someone just kicked your bike over,” he observed dryly, easing away from the screen and folding his arms over his broad chest. “What’s got you twisted up, brother?”
I took the chair across from him and stretched out my legs, exhaling slowly as I met his gaze. “It’s Cecily.”
Kane rarely reacted visibly, but I’d known him long enough to catch the subtle shifts of his mood, the way his attention narrowed at her name.
“Go on,” he suggested, giving me his unwavering focus.
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees, choosing my words carefully but leaving no doubt about their meaning. “She’s close, Kane. If the call comes—and it probably will—she’ll have to move to California for Olympic training.”
Kane’s expression didn’t change, his eyes steady and unreadable as he waited patiently, just listening.
“Not gonna let her go alone,” I told him bluntly. “Cecily moves to California, there’s no fucking question—I’ll be going with her.”
Kane would never hold me back from following my woman, but I still wasn’t sure how he was gonna react to this. We’d worked together a long time, made a fuck ton of money, and were brothers in every way but blood.
For a moment, he studied me quietly, assessing the weight of my words and the intensity behind my tone. Then surprisingly, his mouth curved slightly in something dangerously close to a smile.
“Figured this conversation was coming sooner rather than later.” He leaned back again, running his thumb slowly along his jaw. “Knew you were all-in on her the second I saw you at the pool that day. Which meant if Cecily was heading for the Olympics, you’d follow wherever she went.”
His acknowledgment eased the tension in my chest just slightly. Then he shocked the shit out of me.
“I’ve actually been considering options,” he admitted. “Not just about supporting your decision. I already knew that was a given. But about how we can work this to our advantage.”
I straightened in my chair, genuinely startled. “You’ve been thinking about options?”
He raised a brow, amusement flickering faintly in his eyes. “You’re surprised?”
“Maybe a little.” I shook my head, my mouth quirking slightly. “Didn’t expect you to let me go without giving me shit about all the money you were gonna lose but…”
Kane rolled his eyes. “I have no intention of losing a damn cent. You think I’m gonna let some other asshole exploit your Midas touch?
” He leaned forward again, his powerful frame radiating steady authority.
“You’ve helped me build every track and racing team in our empire, Tyre.
I have no intention of letting you walk away completely.
I knew we’d figure something out if it came down to this. ”
My chest tightened fiercely with gratitude at his unspoken loyalty. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
He braced his forearms on the desk. “I’m thinking it’s time to expand west. We’ve got Florida and the surrounding states locked down, and the East Coast presence is in the works.
But California—that’s new territory, untapped for us.
If Cecily’s going there anyway, it’s the perfect opportunity to set up a new track and pro racing team out in LA. ”
Excitement started to kindle in my chest. “A new track and pro team?”
“Yeah.” The corner of his mouth kicked up again.
“I want you heading it up—managing operations, hiring staff, coaches, and recruiting drivers. You’ve had a hand in every damn track and team we’ve built, and your fingerprints should be all over this one too.
But it’ll be pretty much all on you this time, brother.
I can’t be there for the amount of time it’s going to take to get this off the ground. ”
My mind was already spinning through the logistics.
The challenge, potential, and idea of building something fresh from the ground up again.
But beneath all of that exhilaration was something else, deeper and far more personal.
Kane wasn’t just giving me a task. He was giving me a way to follow Cecily without losing what I’d helped build.
My throat tightened as I leaned back in my chair, my eyes locked onto his steady gaze. “You really think this is the right move?”
“Do you?” Kane tossed back, arching a brow. “Because this isn’t about whether we can pull it off. We can. This is about you. And her. About you making sure she doesn’t have to give up what she wants in a way where you don’t have to give up who you are.”
I swallowed roughly, nodding once. “Then it’s right.”
His voice carried an edge of dry humor. “Then I suppose you’d better start looking into real estate.
And figure out how the hell we’re going to manage you running an entire West Coast operation for Redline Holdings from across the country without everything going to shit.
We’ll find someone to help run things here, but they’ll be working under you. ”
I chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, Prez. You know damn well I’ve got it covered.”
“I know.” Then his eyes narrowed. “But I’m also not real interested in letting some other MC get their hands on you.”
My brows pulled together. “What the fuck does that mean? I’m not gonna patch with another club after I leave the Redline Kings.”
The office door opened before Kane answered, and Edge sauntered inside like he owned the damn building.
Which, technically, he partially did. His hair was still damp from a shower, and his cut hung open over a fitted black T-shirt that stretched across his chest and broad shoulders.
He took one look at my face and smirked.
“Leaving the Redline Kings isn’t on the table either,” Kane stated.
“Oh good,” Edge drawled lazily. “Looks like Kane skipped right past easing you into it.”
I stared between them slowly. “Into what?”
Edge dropped onto one of the chairs across from Kane’s desk, stretching his long legs out comfortably. “Brother, you’d make a damn fine president.”
The room went quiet for a second.
“Of what?” I asked, still confused.
“A motorcycle club,” Edge said slowly, like he was talking to someone who didn’t understand English.
I barked out a short laugh and shook my head. “Absolutely the fuck not.”
Kane’s expression didn’t even twitch. “You already run most of our financial operations, half the underground infrastructure, and every major expansion we’ve built. You’ve been helping me build this empire since almost the beginning.”
“That’s different than starting my own MC.”
“Not really,” Edge countered dryly. “You already act like leadership. You’re just grumpier about it.”
I flipped him off automatically without looking away from Kane, who shook his head. “Told you. Not gonna let another MC have you. Even one you founded.”
“Then what…” It clicked. “A West Coast chapter?”
“Yep,” Kane confirmed.
That word sat there heavily because deep down, I knew exactly what they were saying, and hope burned in my chest. When I moved to California with Cecily, I wouldn’t have to walk away from the Redline Kings.
I’d still be part of this family and the empire we built together in a way I’d never expected.
Kane leaned forward slightly, his forearms braced against the desk. “So we’ll expand Redline Holdings west. Tracks, teams, and operations. But alongside that…we establish a Redline Kings chapter in California.”
“Holy shit,” I muttered under my breath.
Edge grinned slowly. “Yeah. That was basically my reaction too.”
My brain immediately shifted into logistics, territory maps, alliances, and rivalries—then one glaring problem slammed into the front of my mind.
“It’s Black Crowns’ territory,” Kane murmured, somehow reading my mind.
I nodded. “Yeah. Most of Southern California.”
Edge tilted his head thoughtfully. “They’re military-based, right? Mostly black ops guys and ex-special operations?”
“Mostly,” I confirmed. “I served with a few of them before I got out and joined the Kings. We’ve kept in touch.”
“You know their president, right?” Kane asked.
“Yeah. We served on the same team. I can give him a call.”
Edge leaned back in his chair, thoughtful now instead of amused. “You think they’d allow us to claim territory near theirs? Maybe even some overlap?”
I considered it seriously for a second before nodding. “Yeah. I actually think they’d be fine with it.”
Kane’s brows lifted slightly.
“The Black Crowns don’t give a shit about racing,” I explained. “That’s not their world. And they know exactly who the Redline Kings are. They’d understand pretty quickly we’re not showing up looking for war. We’d be allies, not competition. Probably beneficial for both clubs.”
Kane exchanged a brief look with Edge before turning back to me. “Then contact their president. Feel it out.”
The reality of the conversation settled heavier into my chest now. California. Cecily. A new track, team, and fucking chapter—a whole damn expansion. It probably should have felt daunting or even impossible. Instead, it felt right.
Edge smirked again, apparently reading some of that realization off my face. “Look at that. Ten minutes ago you were preparing to break up with your brothers. Now you’re accidentally becoming a club president.”
I snorted. “Accidentally.”
“Best kind of promotion,” Edge replied lazily.
Kane’s mouth twitched slightly before his attention shifted back toward business. “We’ll talk more after this race situation gets handled. One thing at a time.”
I nodded and pushed myself out of the chair. “I’m heading back to my office. Cecily is at a day-long camp today, so I want to keep digging into the funding. I have a feeling I’m close.”
Kane gave me a short nod. “Keep me updated.”
Hours later, I was still buried behind spreadsheets, shell corporations, betting patterns, offshore transfers, and enough layered bullshit to choke a federal auditor.
My office had gone fully dark outside the windows, lit only by the glow of monitors and the dim desk lamp throwing shadows across stacks of paperwork.
But finally, the money lined up. I sat back slowly in my chair, eyes narrowing at the screen while irritation curled sharply through my chest. “Well. There you are, motherfuckers.”
The money trail led straight to the top of a corporate-backed racing syndicate. Legitimate money hiding behind legitimate businesses while quietly funding illegal underground races designed to siphon drivers, bettors, and eventually territory away from Kane’s empire.
They were trying to dismantle Redline Holdings from underneath. I grabbed my phone and called Kane immediately.
He answered on the second ring. “Found something?”
“Found out where the buck stops,” I informed him, staring at the screen grimly. “A corporate syndicate is funding the ghost races. Deep pockets and structured operations. They’re trying to break your monopoly and take control of the underground scene.”
“Perfect timing,” Kane murmured. “Racer just got invited to the next pop-up race.”
Anticipation thrummed in my veins. “When?”
“Few days.”
I leaned back slowly, already feeling the shape of what came next settling into place.
Kane’s voice was hard as steel. “It’s time to take action.”