The little Yorkie takes off into the house with his envelope, and the mailman rings the doorbell again. I check out my peephole and spot him and his blue uniform holding a giant box. Then I step back freaking out over what to do. If I was home alone, I'd let him ring the bell all night until he left the box on the porch, but Stella looks at me like I've gone crazy for not answering it. She gives me one last quick glance and then sets her plate on the end table and goes in search of Rocky, leaving me alone.I don't want to explain why I'm scared to open the door, so as she searches my small home for my disobedient dog, I gather my strength and open it. No point in both of us being murdered."Hey, Ray," I say with a bright fake smile.Except it's not Ray, my usual mail guy, but a younger man I've never seen. "I'm sorry. You're not Ray."He smiles, not looking upset. "No, post office is changing policy and now houses with boxes go last. I'm running behind today, but this box is fo

A map of Pelican Bay hangs on a large piece of corkboard, taking up one wall in what Dom affectionally refers to as his war room. Six of Dom's most trusted brothers sit around the table in leather chairs. I climbed off his bike not more than ten minutes ago and he marched off, dragging me behind him with only a brief explanation of visiting the war room. I can say it's not what I expected.In my mind there was more... leather... blood... ladies' underwear.I didn't spend many hours at the club in Colorado where Dom's father led his crew, but I do not remember a war room.A few colored photographs of various men I've never seen before are tacked to the edges of the map, and the only thing missing to make it a prop straight from a true crime documentary is short red thread connecting the pictures to various locations in Pelican Bay. To compensate someone numbered each picture and then in thick black permanent ink marked a space on the map to coordinate.As I watch my brother stal

Elliot slams his foot on his gas pedal and his truck fishtails out of the motorcycle compound, the gates barely parting in time to let us pass. My brother ushered Elliot and Ridge's men, including some of his own, into his war room packing the space with pissed off males. When I tried to gain entry to the room, a reasonable request in my opinion considering the things that happened tonight concerned me, they closed the door right in my face after telling me it was men talk.Both of the men in my life were damn lucky I wasn't holding a gun at the particular moment.I thought Dominick and I had grown since he was thirteen and told me I couldn't join the club he'd made with a bunch of other boys from his father's club. In retaliation I stole and threw away the laces to his favorite motorcycle boots. All eight pairs.I kept the same strategy tonight, but more devious. Rather than steal his shoelaces I tossed his leather jackets in the oversized freezer they keep in the compound kitch

Nobody understands family drama until you try to explain to a literal superhero the guy who runs your local motorcycle club isn't a horrible guy. But it's the truth. Dominick and I grew up together. I know the best and the worst in regard to Dominick. Sure, shit goes down behind closed doors, stuff I don't even try and guess, but under the thick skin and hard exterior, Dominick is hiding a heart of gold.Elliot scoffs. "Yeah, he comes off as a real altar boy."I laugh, the sound light and breezy because we've reached the point of talking about Dom where Elliot can joke. It's progress, enormous progress considering we've spent the last few days not mentioning his name once. I tried at dinner the first night of my house arrest, but Elliot ground his teeth together so hard at the mention of his name I heard the click from the other side of the couch.Twice a day Elliot took a call where he grunted into the phone and his longest response was "she's fine," so I had confirmation my bro

"Emma!" I scold half terrified of the mess and half relieved I found her.Stella perks up quickly. "Oh good, you found her."I found her and now I have to deal with her. Dred skates up my spine as she turns with a smile so large she could be the Joker's offspring. In her arms she cradles Rocky, who stares at me with wide eyes pleading for me to rescue him."I've got to go." I hang up on Stella, not giving her more of an explanation.Quickly, as if she senses her time of shenanigans is nearing an end, Emma turns and drops Rocky in the toilet. Water splashes over the edge and he yelps with the splash. I sprint into the bathroom, saving the wet pissed off dog at the exact second Emma finishes pressing the lever to flush the toilet.I clutch Rocky to my chest, the toilet water soaking my shirt. "No, Emma. We don't flush puppies."Emma claps, the powder caught on her fingers launching into the air in thick dust bubbles.Holy hell. What should I do?The back door opens and I