Crow's Confession to the Wrong Woman

I turned federal informant on the Reapers five years ago. I should have stayed gone. The reporter who blew my location is dead. The only ride off my block tonight is a Reaper truck, driven by Crow's brother — the man who tried to warn me before I married into the club. Nine hundred miles of highway with the man who let me keep believing a lie that kept me alive. He'll tell me the truth about the equipment shed. He'll tell me about the money he's been stashing in my old account. He'll tell me about the club he's about to burn down on his way to get me back. I've got six weeks before the trial. He's got six weeks to prove he's worth the ride.