In the alley, he grabbed Dice's vest and threw him against the brick wall. "What the fuck are you doing, man?"
"Staying alive."
"I should shoot you." He slipped the pistol back behind his belt. "What kind of shit do you have going on here. You're Killere. Anything you do involves the club."
"Are you going to report me?"
"Give me a reason to."
Dice dug a cigarette out of his pocket and lit the end. "Rudy has men who will do anything for a dime. I've paid him to watch over Timber while I'm gone."
Romeo's gut clenched, thinking of men associated with that joker anywhere around Timber.
"Jesus Christ." Romeo stepped a few feet away before he sliced Dice's neck. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"
"I'd pay any amount to keep her out of harm's way," argued Dice.
He whirled around and faced his MC brother. "I'm not talking about money. She's your fucking daughter. If you want her safe, you need to plant your ass beside her and watch her. Stop roaming around the countryside, thinking about yourself. You brought her into this life. You're responsible for her. I don't give a shit how old she is. She's your daughter."
"I've been protecting her my whole life." Dice's head came back with the declaration, and then he shook his head in anger as if he wanted to take the words back. "You don't understand."
Romeo wouldn't let him off the hook. He held Dice's gaze.
Dice jabbed a finger in Romeo's direction. "Don't breathe a word about this to anyone else, not even the club, you hear? Timber's my kid. She's my blood. I'm doing the best I can for her."
Romeo reached for his pistol. Brother or no brother, if Dice had stolen, bought, traded, brainwashed Timber, he'd kill his perverted ass.
"Wait." Dice lurched forward, palms out. "You don't understand."
A growl rumbled in Romeo's chest. "You've got one minute to make me understand, or I'm going to start blowing off body parts."
Dice pressed his hands against thin air. "Okay. Okay."
He lowered the pistol but kept it in his hand. He and Dice went way back. But besides the patch he wore on his vest, nothing kept him from retaliating if Dice hurt Timber.
"My ex—Ronna." Dice's gaze hardened. "She's running one way, and I'm running the other, trying to keep them away from Timber."
Romeo waited for more facts. Timber was an adult. If her parents wanted to fuck up their lives, they could leave her without involving her. But for Dice to instigate trouble around his daughter, there was no call for that.
"If they find Timber, she'll be lost to me. She'll be lost to a life she deserves to live." Dice exhaled harshly. "We tried to protect her."
"I'm not understanding, brother. Keep talking," he reminded Dice. "What makes you think you have a say in how she lives her life? Why send men after her? Why does she need protected?"
He wasn't going to stand in the alley all day waiting for the truth. Dice needed to start talking and give him something to understand, or those bruises he carried were going to look like a minor problem compared to what Romeo was going to do to him.
Dice grabbed the back of his neck and hung his head. "I fell for Ronna hard, man. She got knocked up. She couldn't leave her family but had to get out of there before everyone found out she was carrying my kid. If they would've found out she was pregnant, they would've killed her, me, and my baby girl would've been raised by the hands of the devil."
"You're talking in circles. If someone is after your family, you move and you stay hidden. But, we're talking about right now. Timber's...how old?"
"Nineteen years old," said Dice.
Jesus. She was even younger than he'd thought. "Why involve her now? Let her go and live her life away from the bullshit going on around you and your old lady."
Dice shook his head. "I've been running ahead of them since before Timber was born, trying to keep them safe. I've had to move them at least twenty times over the years but Ronna can't stay gone too long or her people start tracking her down. I can't risk them finding Timber. Why do you think I stopped riding with the club and took to the road all those years ago? Almost twenty years, I've been running, man. It's been hell. Ronna had to leave Timber on her own more times than I even knew about to keep her family from knowing about our daughter. That kid has had to raise herself because Ronna had to return to her family, and I couldn't get there fast enough to stay with her. Whatever hardships she's endured, it was better than what she'd get if they find out Timber belonged to Ronna."
He slipped his pistol behind his belt. "Family ties? Who does Ronna belong to?"
"It's best you don't know."
Romeo cocked his brow. "A little late for that."
Dice latched his hands behind his head. "Frank Gabraldi."
The name sounded familiar. He worked through what he knew so far about Dice's situation and where he came from. Any trouble coming from Seattle usually originated from one group.
"Sparrows?"
Dice's gaze hardened, and he nodded. Romeo whistled softly in surprise. Gabraldi was the man behind the most prominent crime organization in the Pacific Northwest. His family had passed down the business through the generations. He was responsible for the Yesler Street Gang, the sex trafficking on almost every corner of the United States, and they had control of the Seattle underground.
"And Timber is his granddaughter?" he whispered, needing to know the truth wasn't out there hovering in the air for someone else to use against her.
Dice nodded.
"Fuck," he muttered.
Dice squatted, holding his head. Knowing how long he'd kept that information to himself, he suspected the load on Dice's shoulders had become too heavy.
He reached down and fisted the leather of Dice's vest and hauled his MC brother to his feet. "Come on."
"What are you going to do?"
"We need to tell Onyx."
Dice stopped. "We can't. Involving Killere will only make it worse and bring more attention to Timber. It doesn't matter if we take out every member of Swallows. If one person lives and finds out who Timber belongs to, she'll still be in danger. Family runs deep with them. They'll come out of the grave to haunt you if you wrong them."
"We need to get out of here." He walked out of the alley and got on his Harley. "Follow me to my house."
Anyone in the Pacific Northwest knew the Swallows by reputation. They worked underground in inner-city Seattle, running prostitutes and selling women overseas. But their list of crimes kept going. Whatever put money in their pockets, they'd do.
They were ruthless, smart, and some would say entitled. They had the police force in their back pocket. Charges against them disappeared. Prison sentences were reduced or were eliminated before they even saw the inside of the bars. The rules on the street were followed by everyone, including Killere, when they rode in the area.
To get along with another motorcycle club or crime organization, mutual respect had to be given. No matter if Killere disagreed with how they ran their group.