Page 15 of Point of Infinity
I typed the address into the GPS on my phone.
It was about a two-hour drive. Or I could pass on by and head to New York. I’d always wanted to visit the big city. See the sights. Maybe even continue to Connecticut, check out Boston. There was no need to decide now. I could just follow the road and see where it took me. For once, I had a little money—and a little freedom. At twenty-one years old, I had my whole life ahead of me. It didn’t all have to be about violence and revenge.
Who was I kidding? It was heading in the direction of my defunct legacy. I had an idea and an address and an in. I might never have this opportunity again.
I shifted the van into drive and pulled out of the parking space. Another car cut in front of me. I slammed on the brakes, and the van rocked back and forth.
I laid on the horn until the guy pulled away. When my heart stopped racing, I exited the hotel parking lot onto the frontage road. I came to the intersection with one sign pointing west and the other sign east. I sat there so long, I missed the light turning green. The car behind me honked me out of my daze.
The choice had already been made, and there was no turning back now.
I had to see this through.
I owed it to my mother. And no matter how legit the Infinity Kings were or how sexy some of their members might be, it would not deter me from what I had to do.
CHAPTER 5
REID (RATCHET)
Ispent half the night reading her journal. It wove an interesting tale of drama, suspense, betrayal, and murder. Culminating in a revenge and a redemption arc that James Patterson would be proud of. It read like a novel, but in my world, some themes rang all too true.
If my calculations were correct, Becky, not her real name, had been through a lot in her twenty-one years. Almost as much as me and Patrick. Something about her story resonated with me, and it went beyond losing a parent and being betrayed by the people closest to us.
I’d known Sonny O’Connor had ordered my father killed even before it happened. Patrick had tried to stop it but failed. We both vowed never to fail again. It wasn’t as simple as taking Sonny out. After all, he was Patrick’s father, but he hated him as much as I did. It was his choice not to kill him outright. It wouldn’t have changed anything. Too young and without real allies, our only leverage came from being Sonny and Mikey’s sons. Putting in the work became our way to build the kind of club we wanted to lead. Time was on our side, and we used it—stirring up trouble where it counted and keeping the Infinity Kings from gaining ground. Legit avenues kept the club alive, even as the old guard clung to chaos. The goal was close now, and instead of destroying our rivals like Sonny planned, the idea was to join them. Our plan was to take place on Halloween, and it could all be upended by this woman who I couldn’t get out of my head.
Part of it was her fearlessness and bravery, but another part was the challenge. She clearly hated me or what she knew about me, but she didn’t know the whole story.
I could avoid a lot of undue stress and put an end to her crusade now. Grab her and lock her away until our plan was in place, but part of me thought the journal was just that, a story to make herself feel better. To keep a sad, little, lonely girl who slept in a van warm at night.
I couldn’t hurt her, but I could keep her from hurting herself.
Besides, the girl was freakin’ hot. Likegirl of my dreamshot. She had cocoa-colored skin and curly light brown hair. Her eyes were a mix of brown and gold if that was possible. Her eyes were familiar, and I wanted to stare into them for the rest of my life.
Might sound like hyperbole, but I was a biker in a club trying to take out the current reigning president and his captains all in one night. I may not live for much longer.
I felt her in my arms, her ass on my thigh, and despite my warning to stay away, I wanted to see her again.
I told her not to come to the party. To stay far away. A woman like Becky, it almost guaranteed she would show up and take her shot. On the surface, we might have the same goal, but our mission would most certainly clash, and now I had the added burden of not only following through with my plan but protecting her in the process. With this added wrinkle, I didn’t have the full picture, and it bothered me.
Excerpts from her book rode through my mind all during breakfast, but she wasn’t giving anything up.
After breakfast, I headed out to my bike and packed up. I drove around the building and waited for her to leave, then followed her down the highway and was not surprised when she passed by the exit to head south without hesitation. Once we crossed into Jersey, she exited near Newark, and I continued to my home in Morristown. Patrick and I shared a loft in the warehouse district with a view of New York City.
I pulled into the parking garage on the ground floor and rode the elevator up four floors. It opened into our living room.
Patrick lay sprawled out on one corner of the three-piece sectional, bare-chested and in sweatpants, flipping through the channels. He looked hungover and angry. My best friend had had a hard life, too. Never getting the perks of being the president’s son, he fought for his respect and had mine even if we were practically brothers.
The place had minimal furniture and dark walls, but the windows made the space feel warm and like home. Better than both the homes we grew up in.
One of our businesses was construction and restoration, and our team had created our sanctuary. We called it an open-plan duplex. Both sides are identical, with a shared kitchen and living space. We each had a bedroom and en suite bathroom. The rest of the place was bare and industrial. Perfect for us.
“Hey.” I ruffled his curly blond bedhead. He pushed my hand away.
“Where have you been?” He continued flipping through channels.
I flopped down on the sofa, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes. Not sure how much or what I learned I should share with him. We had no secrets, but I wasn’t sure how he would take it.
“I stayed outside Philly last night.” I tapped my chest. “Ran into a little trouble with the waitress.”
