T-Bone - L. Wilder


Not everyone finds that one thing that drives them to get up in the morning or makes their life worth living, but I’d been one of the lucky ones. I’d found that and more when I became a brother of Satan’s Fury. I’d only been a member of the Washington chapter for a couple of months when my president, Saul, came to me with the opportunity to help Gus, a fellow brother, start up a new charter in Memphis, Tennessee. I was just a kid and didn’t have a clue about much of anything, let alone how to get a club off the ground, but even back then, I knew there was something extraordinary about my future president. As our sergeant-at-arms, Gus had shown that he was a natural leader, so after agreeing to tag along, I’d done everything I could to help him and my other brothers make Satan’s Fury the club it is today.

I’d never regretted that choice—not once. In fact, I believe it was the best decision I’d ever made. For the past twenty-five years, I’d had everything a man could want: money, women, adventure, and peril, all while having my brothers at my side. There was just one thing I was missing—an ol’ lady. Sure, I’d had plenty of women over the years. Hell, there’s been more than I could count, but try as I might, none of them lasted.

I wasn’t giving up, though. I knew that sooner or later, the right woman would come along. I just never dreamed that woman would be Hyde’s sister and that she’d be broken in ways I couldn’t imagine.



The brothers of Fury knew how to throw a hell of a party. It didn’t matter what we were celebrating; there was always plenty of booze, loud music, and hot women. However, nothing compared to the parties when a prospect patched into the club. Those were always the best—not just for our new brother, but for all the club members. For us, it meant Satan’s Fury was growing, prospering the way Gus and the rest of us had always hoped it would, and for a prospect, it meant all his hard work had finally paid off.

Being a prospect was never easy. It was a year or more of busting his ass and doing whatever it took—from a late-night rescue to a clean up after a club party—just to prove himself worthy of wearing the club’s colors on his back. It wasn’t for anyone who lacked courage, especially when prospecting for Satan’s Fury, but just as Gus knew he would, Hyde had proven time and time again that he could handle whatever we threw his way.

I’ll admit, at first I had my doubts that he’d actually pull it off. The kid had been all kinds of green when he first showed up at the clubhouse’s doorstep. Even though his uncle, Viper, was the president of the Ruthless Sinners in Nashville, he didn’t know much about what went into prospecting or working in a garage, but I had to give it to him, he was determined. Hyde never once gave up and even managed to complete his final task as a prospect without so much as a snag.

There was no doubt that he’d get the job done, so we called everyone to the clubhouse to celebrate his success. I was sitting at the bar with Blaze and Riggs, two of my fellow brothers, and we all watched in silence as Gus presented him with his Satan’s Fury cut. As Hyde slipped it on, a proud smile crossed his face. Blaze looked over to me and said, “You remember the day you were patched in?”

“Hell, yeah. Might’ve been twenty-five years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. You?”

“The same. No better feeling than putting on that cut for the first time.”

“No doubt.”

Blaze glanced over at Hyde. “I would’ve given anything to see his face when he walked into his garage and found his bike like that.”

“Had to be one hell of a surprise.” Riggs snickered. “Don’t know what I’d think if I found my Harley completely disassembled like that.”

“Still don’t know how they didn’t hear us, especially with Duchess around.”

Hyde’s dog, Duchess, was a Rottweiler-Great Dane mix that his ol’ lady, Landry, accidentally hit with her car on the way home from work. He and Landry had actually met when Hyde stopped to help her get the dog to the vet. Even though she was normally a well-behaved, easy-going dog, I’d worried about