Chapter One
Houston
The one place Houston hoped to never return to again loomed in front of him.
Home.
Despite the dread sitting in his gut, he admired the view from his seat as the train entered the Sultan city limits. Rich, green trees with yellow-tipped leaves surrounded an eclectic mix of old and new buildings. While only a short ride from the busy city of Seattle, Sultan felt like a completely different, slower paced world. With the mountains as a breathtaking backdrop and a well-preserved, old-fashioned town set below, it was still as pretty as any postcard. Early fall meant no snow yet, but before long it would blanket the higher elevations.
If not for the heavy cloak of the past weighing on his shoulders, he would enjoy the beauty in front of him. As it was, the only decent thing about his arrival would be getting out of this cramped seat and stretching his aching leg. Getting hit by a stray IED six months ago had done more than leave scars on his body. He rubbed the soreness surrounding his right knee. The accident ended his career in the Marine Corps too soon and left him with no choice but to return to his childhood home.
After cutting ties when he was eighteen, he lived free of his father’s legacy, the Sultans of Wrath motorcycle club, for ten years. For once his life had not included drugs, or illegal weapons or the constant threat of a raid that could lead to a stint in prison. The violence and death on the other hand, escalated. War wasn’t easy, nor was it pretty. But it had felt right clear to his bones. Enlisting in the Corps was exactly the path he needed when he was eighteen years old, and it was still the path he needed at twenty-eight. That it could be yanked out from underneath him with no warning and in the space of a breath, still made him angry.
The train eased into the station, blocking his view of the town, and came to a stop. Houston stood and grabbed his C-bag, stretching his arms and legs as he moved. The final segment of his trip that started in Oceanside, California was only a couple of hours, but that’s all it took to tighten him up.
He exited the train and breathed in the fresh air, surveying the surrounding area. No smog or festering decay to deal with here. From outward appearances, Sultan seemed quiet, peaceful and clean. It wasn’t the outside that concerned him. Eventually he’d have to dig deeper and revisit the underbelly he chose to forget.
First things first. He needed to find a ride. With his father incarcerated and his brother God knew where with his secret FBI shit, Houston was on his own to get home. Fortunately, flocks of tourists made their way through the town this time of year and cabs were easy enough to come by.
“Yo, Houston.”
Houston froze, every muscle going on high alert. Ten years or not, he recognized the voice like it was yesterday. Slowly he turned, coming face to face with Alexander “Axel” Carver, his best friend since childhood and current member of Sultan’s Wrath as evidenced by the black leather cut on his back. Well that answered one question. The club was alive and well.
He stared at his former friend. Despite the changes over the years, particularly the fact Axel had filled out and gained more than his fair share of muscle, time fell away and Houston grinned.
“Hey,” he returned, slowly closing the space between them.
“The prodigal fuck up returns. Damn, been a long time,” Axel said.
“How the hell did you know I was here? I thought I was coming in under the radar.”
“You really think anything important happens around here Wrath don’t know about?”
Houston rolled his eyes. “I hardly think my arrival ranks on the important scale. I’m not part of the club.”
“Uh huh. You think the favored son is going to roll back into town and no one’s going to sit up and take notice? Fuck that. You’re lucky all the guys aren’t here to greet you.”
The idea made him shudder. He had to face an empty house full of memories he didn’t want to touch before breaking the news to the club he had no interest in returning.
“Yeah, not ready for that. Thought I’d head out to Pop’s place and get things settled first.”
“That works. I’ll give you a ride.”
Houston waited a couple of seconds to hear the catch before hefting his bag across his shoulder. “Appreciate it, I think. Figured on taking a cab. Didn’t expect a committee to welcome me home.”
Axel shrugged before turning toward the parking lot. “Don’t get too comfortable. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Oh joy. Not even back five minutes and Houston had a bad feeling he was going to have to deal with the club sooner rather than later. His friend led him to the parking lot and an expensive dark blue four-door pickup truck. “Nice ride.”