Page 21 of July 27

"What stuff?" She slapped her hands down on her hips. "I need the cat."

"I said I'll find the cat," he muttered.

Maybe giving her the kitten was a bad idea. If the cat ran away or got spooked and was hiding, he might never find it. Then, all he'd done was upset Rachel by giving her something to care for.

"Put your clothes in a bag." He went into the bedroom.

There was nothing more for her to take. Shady had done a piss-poor job of setting up his sister in an apartment.

He searched every corner of the bedroom, looking in the bare closet and under the blanket on the mattress. In the other room, Rachel continued to call for the cat.

Going into the bathroom, he opened the cabinet under the sink, looked in the tub, and peered above the shelve on the wall.

"Here, kitty," sang Rachel.

He turned to leave the bathroom when he spotted a gray-striped tail in the small area behind the toilet. Bending over, he scooped up the cat.

Its claws were out and instantly dug into his hand. He grimaced, tucking the cat against the front of him.

"Rach." He walked out of the bathroom.

She hurried to him, grabbing the cat and holding it to her chest as she gazed up at him. "Thank you so much."

"We need to get out of here." He found the black sack by the door. "Is that all you have?"

"Yeah, but..." She stepped beside him. "I'm not leaving Knight."

"We'll take him."

"How?"

"Same way I brought him to you." He picked up the bag and tucked her against his side. "Stay close."

In silence, he got her to the Harley. He quickly Bungee corded the bag to the bike after compressing her clothes into a tight ball. There was only a small spot on the seat for Rachel.

"But what about Knight?" she whispered.

He opened the duffle, put the cat in, and zipped the bag. Rachel gasped. He kissed her forehead and whispered back, "Trust me. He'll be fine."

Getting on the motorcycle, he put the duffle on his lap, tucking the straps between his thigh and the gas tank. He'd had to carry more than a woman, a cat, and a week's worth of clothes before.

Rachel climbed on behind him. He double-checked her hands, squeezing them around the leather braids on his vest, and started the engine. Wasting no time, he rode away from the apartment. If Shanty couldn't protect his sister from prison, then he would.

Chapter Eleven

After spending a week at the clubhouse with Rachel at night and working security for Havlin during the day, Ruger found a cottage to rent one block from the oceanside. He pocketed the keys after paying the owner twice the going rate for a year's lease to keep the guy from doing a background check on him.

Since getting out of prison, he'd learned that money would make many people turn the other way and ignore the obvious.

He straddled the Harley and rode to the clubhouse. It took him four and a half minutes from the cottage—doable when a call went out, and he needed to ride out on security or to wash some money. He'd learned the ropes quickly over the last week. A good chunk of their money came from laundering money for Moroad Motorcycle Club through the pot shops Havlin ran security for.

He enjoyed the excitement and risk more than standing in the parts shop, filling orders all day.

His decision to rent a house had more to do with Rachel than his need to get out of the clubhouse. She tended to stay inside the room whether he was with her or not. He could tell that she was uneasy around the others.

At least living away from the clubhouse would give her the privacy to wander through the house and entertain herself until Shady contacted one of them. Her brother would have to find her another place to stay—a better place than the apartment he'd rented for her.

He walked into the clubhouse. All had was a duffle bag with his belongings in it. Twenty years ago, the club had put his belongings in one of their storage units in Beaverton. He had yet to walk back into the memories of his life before he was incarcerated when he was raising a little girl on his own and thought he had the rest of his life to be a dad.