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Too much shit can go wrong.

People leave. People lie. People promise they'll stick around, then vanish when things get ugly.

The Sinners don't pull that crap.

Took me a while to get that through my thick skull.

Three years ago, somebody paid me to put a bullet in a man.

According to the intel, the bastard was trafficking young girls across state lines.

I tracked him to a rescue operation.

Didn't take long to see the whole thing was bullshit.

He wasn't selling those girls. He was getting them the fuck out.

That man was Grim.

I could've walked away.

Instead, I helped him finish the job.

Once the girls were safe, Grim and I went after the traffickers. Turned out, those were the same bastards who'd hired me to kill him, hoping I'd take out the man screwing up their operation.

They picked the wrong fucking sniper.

And Grim?

Crazy son of a bitch offered me a place in his club afterward.

Didn't seem to give a shit that I'd originally shown up to kill him.

I figured he had a screw loose.

Joining the Damned Sinners ended up being the best damn decision I'd made since enlisting.

Grim made me Tail Gunner. My job's to watch the club's back and make damn sure nobody gets the drop on us.

They're my brothers. My family.

And right now, one of the women we're supposed to protect is trapped in a car with a gun-toting asshole.

Not on my fucking watch.

Movement catches my eye through the sedan's rear window.

Kierra.

She's trying to sit up.

The bastard beside her grabs her shoulder and shoves her down.

Oh, you're a dead man.

The sedan takes the next bend too fast.

Its rear tires lose traction. The driver overcorrects, and the car slides sideways into a ditch.