HAYE

Mrs. Helen Wallace. When the veteran hou

, and the fluffy white rugs. "Strip it all. Get rid of everything in this room that belongs to my old

s widening in shock, but she quickly masked

sive cardboard boxes out of my room. They packed away all the pink trash, the ridiculou

d of my toxic clutter, only the dark, heavy leather furniture and Axel's belongings remained. For

old vanity, my fingers brushed against some

ll, forgotte

into his computer, guessing the password on the first try-my birthday. My

ssword-protected file. I tried my mo

reen, my breath ca

is was a second set of books for the club-fake ledgers designed to evade federal RICO inves

yes. My mot

d the books for an Outlaw motorcycle club? How was that possible? She was just

th really a

t. B

shattered my racing though

cold, and interrogative

g his deeply furrowed brow. I re

my past. But I knew instantl

ed over me, a heavy knock on

ut urgently. "The President is back. Hi

into my pocket, my palms slick with cold sweat. This was

od on the second-floor landing, l

s of the clubhouse

cut, tossing it to a waiting Prospect. The usual noisy chatter of the

, furious eyes snapped upward, locking