Chapter Three

Stormy

I crouched in the corner of the tub. As quietly as I could, I put on my trainers. I had to run. I’d go out the window. I’d rather plunge to my death than face Emerson. It had been almost four months, but I’d lived under his control for three years. What if he still had power over me?

I crossed my arms to calm the trembles firing through me. Could my life get any more fucked?

Apparently, yes, it could. Adrenaline had my heart slamming against my ribs and breaking in a fated twist of bad luck. What kind of karmic shit had I done? Maybe in a past life I’d raped, murdered, and pillaged. Or maybe this was what I deserved because I should’ve fought harder, not just for myself, but for the girls Emerson had hurt. Maybe I deserved this piercing pain in my chest.

Bullet was the biker from the warehouse. I felt the truth like a blow to my belly. Bristol’s biker-boyfriend-pimp. Another hot and painful hit. A killer, and a man I couldn’t forget. I wanted to curl into myself because I didn’t think I could feel anything more. I was emotionally torn open and bloody .

Bullet was him .

And last night, he’d fucked Bristol in the bed beside me. A man I’d imagined… Nothing I’d ever imagined came close to this.

My head rested against the tile of the tub enclosure. I recognized the voices in the other room, but they couldn’t drown out the memory of the one in my head. A voice and a man I’d dreamed of when I was in my darkest moments, knowing he was out there somewhere.

I’d kept him a secret, kept the night he’d killed a secret. He was my secret.

And he was Bristol’s lover.

That night at the warehouse, he’d worn a Crawler cut and had a body honed of muscle. And he’d just challenged Emerson and Mars because they’d threatened Bristol. His old lady. A biker’s claim to his woman. Possessive. Ride or die.

I didn’t have any claim to Bullet. But I hadn’t realized how I’d feel to know my secret could belong to my best friend. It sucked. It hurt.

The door slammed. I sat forward and listened. He was coming. Fear and insecurity crawled into my tightening throat. Then he was there. He’d pulled on his T-shirt, and his Heller Raiders cut.

“Hurry, brown eyes. Time to go.” He waited as I climbed out of the tub. Then rested his hand on my lower back as he pushed me into the bedroom.

“Let me get my stuff.” I grabbed my duffel.

“No time. We leave now.” He sat on the bed and stomped on his boots. “I can’t leave you alone,” he said to Bristol. “But I need to get Madison out of here. ”

“I’m ready to go. I just need the one bag.” Most of my stuff could be left behind. “And don’t call me Madison.” I never wanted to be her again.

“I can drive her,” Bristol said. “Do you want me to follow you?”

Bullet stood and grabbed a gun from the bed. “No. I’ll take her on my bike. I don’t want you seen with her.”

I clutched my duffel in my hands. “You can’t just drop me off at the bus stop without my things.”

“I’m not dropping you at the bus stop.” His words landed with a finality.

Bristol tossed a few things into her satchel. “I’ll go hang with Lacey and Clover until you get it figured out.”

“Blue is over at Indulgence,” he said. “Stay put until I come for you.”

Bullet stalked toward me. “Do you want my help or not?”

“I— I—” I stammered because I wasn’t just afraid of Emerson. I could almost feel his breath on my neck. But I couldn’t be caught with Bristol, and Bristol would always be near Bullet. I wasn’t going to dissect why because it wouldn’t matter. I couldn’t watch them together. “No. I made a mistake.”

“I’m not letting you make another one. You don’t get a choice. You’re with me.” He pried my bag from my hands. “Bristol will take your shit with her. We need to leave now because they’re going to come back. It’s only going to take a couple of minutes for those assholes to figure out you’re not at the motel.”

I stopped arguing, nodded, and turned to Bristol. “Everything I have is in the bag.” I was entrusting her with all my money, and she was trusting Bullet to keep me safe.

“Take care of my girl.” Bristol pressed against Bullet. “Thank you,” she whispered.

My gut tightened as his hand slid onto her ass. He gave her a slap, and I waited with arrested breath, waited for her to tip her face to his, to see his mouth claim hers.

Jealousy was a toxic friend. Jealousy would be my only friend if I couldn’t swallow the bitter taste on my tongue.

“Text me when you get there.” He didn’t linger, and he didn’t press his full lips to hers. Last night, he’d had his mouth on hers with his fingers doing wicked things to her. He’d begged her to spread her legs for him, and she’d moaned his name as he’d thrust inside her.

At the door, Bristol hugged me close. “I trust Bullet. I promise, you can trust him, too.”

Less than a minute later, Bullet tossed my bag into the backseat of Bristol’s car, straddled his black and chrome Harley, and started the engine. The pipes were deafeningly loud and vibrating with power.

“Do you have a helmet?” I asked.

He braced the bike and slid his mirrored sunglasses over his eyes. “Get on the bike, brown eyes.”

How hard could it be? Swing a leg over, feet on the pegs, and hold on. I’d been on a motorcycle before, but I didn’t think sitting on my grandpa’s, without the engine running, when I was six counted for having experience .

Bristol backed out of her stall, waved, and drove away.

I wiped my hands on the seat of my butt, then reconciled the truth that I’d have to touch him to ride behind him. I placed my hand on the soft leather of his cut. Like the contoured steel of his bike, the hills of his shoulder were molded from hard muscles. He smelled of cigarettes and spice. I breathed him in, but with his nearness, I couldn’t catch my breath.

This was the first time I’d seen his club patches up close. The Heller Raiders wings and devil on the back both thrilled and terrified. Bullet was outside the law. He lived on his own terms. Like Emerson, he was dangerous. But unlike Emerson, Bullet wasn’t hiding who he was.

“You can grab my shoulders or wrap your arms around me, but you’re going to have to hold on.”

I rested my hands on his shoulders, keeping space between us.

“Ready?” He rolled the throttle, revving the engine.

The rumble vibrated between my legs. Heat bloomed in my center, my clit tingled, and my nipples tightened into hard little stones. “Bullet,” I whispered and gripped tighter to his cut. “I’m not sure about this.”

His dark chuckle seeped into me.

Drunk butterflies fluttered wildly in my stomach. Or maybe my belly growled with hunger. My mouth watered with every restaurant we passed. Sweet scents from the bakery and coffee from Vintage Brew. We’d rushed out before we’d eaten the breakfast Bristol had made .

We rolled up to an intersection. “I smell bacon.”

“Are you hungry, brown eyes?”

I leaned closer to him and nodded.

“I’ll feed you when we get to the MC.”

A little girl in the backseat of the car next to us smiled at me and rolled her hand. “I think she wants you to rev the engine.”

Bullet glanced to the side and revved the bike long and hard. I instinctively wrapped my arms around Bullet’s torso. My hands fluttered over his abdomen, and I rested my forehead between his shoulder blades. His back rippled with muscle, and my pussy quivered with arousal.

Oh god. I shifted on the seat, quelling the ache building in my core. This was wrong. Bristol belonged on the back of his bike, feeling the heat of his body in her nipples, and his strength between her thighs.

For this moment, I could pretend he wanted me on the back of his motorcycle, that he’d know I was wet for him.

But it was just the rumble of the bike, not the man because I wouldn’t be the other woman ever again.

Bullet slowed the bike as we approached an old church surrounded by a twelve-foot security fence. Mounted cameras focused on the gate. We rode up to a control box, entered a code, and the gate slowly rolled open.

Once inside the compound, the gate rolled closed. The asphalt parking lot was worn and cracked and mostly empty. A flatbed truck was parked along the fence next to a small yellow car. A couple of motorcycles rested in a row near the building. Bullet circled the lot and parked at the end of the line.

He killed the engine, dropped the side stand, and waited for me to climb off. My legs still trembled from the ride, and the rest of me was hot and achy. A few more revs of the engine, and a little grind against the seat, and I seriously could have spontaneously combusted in a white-hot release.

I’d keep telling myself my reactions were to the bike, not the biker.

I stared up at the stained-glass and brick building. An American flag waved from the top of the flagpole, and the Heller Raiders flag flew right below it.

“You good?” he asked.

I nodded. Good was relative. My money was with Bristol, and I was behind a gate with a scary as hell Heller who looked equal parts god and destroyer. I followed him into the motorcycle club.

In the main chapel, morning sun blazed through the stained glass. Dust motes floated in the mosaic of colored beams. Odd tables and chairs scattered throughout the room where there once would have been pews for services. Bottles of booze lined the wall behind the altar. The stale scent of cigarettes mingled with the aroma of fresh coffee.

A pool table sat on a raised platform in the rear of the club. The room was empty. No voices, just the drone of ceiling fans slowly spinning in the high rafters .

“Mugs for coffee are behind the bar. You can probably find some milk for creamer if you need it.” And then he was gone, leaving me alone in the room.

There was half a pot of hot Folgers. No milk or creamer. But there were rows of booze behind me. I was already half drunk on a cocktail of anxiety, fear, and because of the motorcycle and the man riding it, a double shot of lust. I splashed a hefty amount of Irish Cream into my mug.

Red and copper rays cut across a table in the corner of the room. I carried my mug to the table, sat with my back to the wall, and waited. There was nothing else I could do. A clock ticked next to a small flat screen television hanging over the bar. Tick. Tick. Tick.

A young girl, at least she looked young except for the belly protruding from her small body, entered the room. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she carried a laptop computer. She plunked it down on the table, went behind the bar, poured two cups of coffee, turned, and noticed me.

“Oh shit,” she squeaked and sloshed coffee from one of the cups.

I jumped from my chair to help her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” she said and handed me the mugs. “Take these to Romeo and Bullet. They’re in the office. I just peed myself.”

“I’m so sorry.” I grabbed the hot mugs from her.

“It’s not your fault. The little bean is sitting on my bladder.” She hurried out of the room. “I’m Levi, by the way. You must be one of Bullet’s girls. I’ll be right back. I just need to change.”

Before I could refute that misunderstanding, she was gone. I was definitely not one of Bullet’s girls.

I walked in the direction the girl had been headed and followed the voices. There was an office at the end of the hall. I couldn’t see his face, but I heard Bullet speak. In the open doorway, his long legs stretched out in front of him. A cigarette burned between his fingers.

The conversation continued as I approached. Another biker sat behind the desk. But unlike the raw aggressiveness of Bullet, this man was beautiful. His dark hair was pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head. My tummy did a little tumble. Without the hard angles of his jaw, he’d almost be feminine with high cheekbones, long lashes, and a devilish grin.

“We need a vote,” Bullet said.

“Just a formality,” the pretty boy with tattoos said. Ink covered his arms and colored his neck and hands. “We got your back, Bullet. If she—” He noticed me standing in the doorway holding the two mugs of coffee. “Hi.”

Bullet turned in my direction. He squinted at me as he took a long pull on the cigarette caught between his unsmiling lips. He had a silent and deadly vibe. I couldn’t tell if he was upset with me for interrupting. I was just following directions. The girl hadn’t really given me a choice.

And I was used to following orders.

“Levi asked me to bring you these.” I set the mugs on the desk. “She, uh, didn’t see me sitting out there. She’s in the bathroom. ”

The beautiful guy laughed, leaned forward, and grabbed one of the mugs. “I didn’t know a knocked-up Levi was going to be so fun,” he said to Bullet. “She laughs. She pees. She sneezes. She pees.”

“If you scare her,” I said. “She pees. I guess I’ll go wait.” I stepped backwards out of the office. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Bullet stood and pointed to the chair. “Sit.”

I cocked a brow. Not that I didn’t want to stay and hear whatever Bullet planned, but he barked orders like I was his dog, which was only slightly better than Levi assuming I was one of his girls. I lowered into the chair. “Thank you. But you need to work on your communication skills.”

“Is everything going to be a challenge with you?”

I clamped my mouth closed. What was it about him that made me want to snap back?

Romeo chuckled, opened a drawer, fished through the contents, and tossed Bullet a key. “Rent is one-fifty.”

“A month?” I asked, my voice raising. Impossible. At that price, I could hide here as long as it took for Emerson to…I don’t know, either give up his pursuit of my punishment or maybe decide not to get into a confrontation with a badass biker with a big dick who killed people.

Although I didn’t think Emerson would back down from a fight as long as he had guys like Mars willing to get dirty with him.

“One-fifty a week,” Romeo said.

Oh, that made more sense .

Bullet twirled the key on his finger. “Charge it to my account.”

“No,” I interrupted. “I can pay my own rent.”

Romeo leaned back in his chair. “Sorry. Can’t rent you the room. Members only.”

I guess I didn’t understand all the rules of an MC. Bullet stood over me. I glanced up. “I’ll pay you for the room.”

“Come on,” he said and escorted me out of the office.

“I’m not going to let you pay my rent,” I said once we were in the hall. “I’m not one of your girls.”

“You don’t work for me, but that doesn’t mean you’re not one of my girls.”

“I kind of think it does.”

“I’m starting to think your mouth is only good for bitching.”

I nearly stumbled in my steps. I’d seen his cock in the bathroom. Not that I’d caught a glimpse , I’d stared, with my mouth dry and my pussy growing wet. I’d seen all of him. Now, I didn’t have to imagine the tatts on his chest, or the dimples above his ass.

I wasn’t just tortured with my memory of him from that night, his voice, and hard gleam in his eyes, and the way he’d called me brown eyes.

The scent of leather, cigarettes, and spice would have me remembering the feel of my hands on his shoulders and my open thighs aligned with his hips. I couldn’t think about how it would feel to taste him, to hear him whisper to me the way he did to Bristol, when he begged to be inside her.

“And she’s speechless.” His dark chuckle pulled me from following my thoughts, where I’d be on my knees, desperate for his attention, knowing I’d never be the only one.

“I have plenty to say. Most of it you wouldn’t like to hear,” I said. “I recall your conversation with Bristol. Since I’ll never be screaming for you, bitching is all you get.”

His sexy smile pissed me off. “Ah, kitten—”

“I’m not your kitten.” He’d called Bristol kitten. He’d used soft seductive notes, but he’d fucked her hard and dirty. Bullet—and his big dick—were catnip for pussies, but I was never going to be one of his kittens.

He opened the door to the last room in the hall. As I stepped past him, he closed his hand around my arm.

His touch was fire, warm and intoxicating. I stomped on the butterflies in my belly, crushing them before they could make me stupid. Because he was Bristol’s and this was temporary, just until I could run without getting caught by Emerson.

Bullet’s breath was warm against my face as he whispered to me, “Some kittens, like Bristol, purr. She’s a pet.” His calloused fingertips grazed along my arm.

I lifted my gaze to his. “Some kittens are feral, willing to scratch and fight to survive.”

He was arrogant, and that made him even more charming. So much rizz. Like he enjoyed my bitching. Not that I wanted to constantly bitch at him. For some reason, reasons I didn’t want to acknowledge, I couldn’t help but snap at him. I’d built up a fantasy in my head. I’d been in a relationship with that fantasy for the last four months. He had to go and ruin it by being my only friend’s biker-boyfriend-pimp.

He smiled, a slight dimple creased his cheek.

“Don’t say anything else,” I warned, especially not something that would breathe life into the butterflies I’d already obliterated.

“Fuck, but I like that you have attitude.”

“I don’t want you to like me, Bullet.” I pulled free of his touch. “I need your help, and you won’t be able to help me if I have to stab you with my knife.”

He laughed as I stepped into the small room. He followed me in and closed the door. “I know it’s not much. No bathroom. But there is a fridge, coffeemaker, and a microwave behind the bar.”

A stripped, stained mattress on a metal frame, a scarred wooden dresser with a mirror, and a window. In the corner, there was an old box fan with missing and broken pieces of plastic. I was guessing that was the only air conditioning. That was the extent of the room.

Actually, it was perfect for one person hiding in plain sight. The bed was a double, which was only slightly bigger than a twin.

My nose wrinkled at the faint scent of stale cigarettes. Gray walls seemed freshly painted, but the plushness of the brown carpet was flat and matted. A hundred and fifty a week might seem expensive if I hadn’t been living in a meth motel.

Aged-stained yellow curtains covered the small window facing the rear of the church property. Not that it mattered, I couldn’t see past the tall, drying grasses and weeds that had confiscated any once landscaped flowerbeds and shrubs .

I sat on the edge of the worn bed as Bullet checked the empty drawers in the dresser. “I’ll get your stuff from Bristol.”

My gaze connected with Bullet’s in the reflection of the mirror on the dresser. “Thank you.”

He straightened, turned toward me, and leaned his muscular ass against the edge of the dresser. “The bathroom is across the hall. The MC is communal. If you want to grab a shower, there’ll be shampoo and conditioner. Just don’t expect a lot of water pressure.”

I nodded.

He straightened. “If you need anything, ask Romeo. He’ll be here until I get back.” He opened the door.

“Shit.” The pregnant girl had one hand poised to knock and in the other she held bed sheets. “Wait.” She held up her hand and froze. After ten seconds, she smiled. “Yay. I didn’t pee.” She handed the sheets to Bullet, and he tossed them on the bed. “I have an extra blanket if you need it.”

“I’ll have one of the girls bring over whatever we need.”

Ugh, one of his girls. Maybe I could just get him to take me to Walmart. I could afford a pillow and a blanket if it meant I wouldn’t have to meet the rest of the kittens from his litter.

“Stormy hasn’t had breakfast.” He put his hand on my back, the pressure of his touch reaching inside me, twisting my tummy into knots and making my heart rabbit. He was so close, his hand slid to my hip as he propelled me through the door. “Are you hungry?” he asked her as we passed .

“Always.” She rubbed her baby bump. “The bean is happy with anything as long as it has bacon on it. Your name is Stormy?” she asked me.

I snapped my gaze to Bullet. Did I tell her the truth or lie to her? How much did Bullet want these people to know about me? I wasn’t going to be here long enough to make friends. “Stormy is sort of a nickname,” I said.

“She dances with Bristol,” Bullet said as an explanation as he pulled his cigarettes from his pocket. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said to me.

“You’re leaving?” My bravado cracked with my voice. I might be bitchy, but there was an ache in my chest when I was near him, and I was afraid to be without him. “Can I come with you?”

He gave Levi a look that had her scampering down the hall.

“Bacon,” she hollered as she detoured into the main chapel.

Bullet put a flame to the tip of his cigarette. “You gotta trust me. Romeo won’t leave until I get back.” Streams of smoke escaped through his nostrils.

I exhaled my fear. “Okay. I’ll wait in here for you.” I took a step back toward the door of the room.

“I know the room is shit. This is the safest place for you.”

“The room is great.” What else could I say? The door locked, methhead Billy wasn’t trying to trade a hit for head, and best of all, Emerson didn’t know where I was. Besides, how long would it take to grab some food?

He seemed to hesitate, a low rumble rolling from his chest. Then he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him. “I got you, brown eyes.”

Catnip . I could purr with the way his arms felt banded around me, the sizzle slipping through my veins, and the bloom of heat low in my belly. I couldn’t help leaning against him, just for a moment, but then I remembered that he wasn’t mine. The only part of him exclusive to me were my memories of that night and every thought I’d had of him since then.

A minute later, he was gone, exiting out the door at the end of the hall. The roar of his motorcycle faded into the distance. I slipped back into the bedroom and locked the door.

Whoever painted the room, painted the seals of the window. I tugged, rocking the old glass back and forth until the dried seams cracked and the metal slammed open, catching the edge of my thumb. I sucked it into my mouth while a breeze fluttered the curtains.

After I covered the mattress with the sheets, I rested on my side, closed my eyes, and listened for his motorcycle.

I didn’t know how Bullet intended to help, but he’d made me safe. And at least for tonight, I’d be able to sleep without worrying if the locks on the door would keep my nightmares away.

Bullet

I hated leaving her. I’d hated it the night in the warehouse, and I hated it now. Everything about her made me uncomfortable. Because everything about her made me want for shit I shouldn’t. I didn’t get involved with good girls like Stormy. I fucked girls who wanted good dick, but then wanted to sleep alone. Good girls like Bristol.

Stormy’s feisty mouth was going to get her into trouble. I was going to be trouble for her. And I was going to break my fucking rules about staying out of entanglements because I was involved, and no way was I walking away.

The MC didn’t need this shit. I couldn’t let my problems bleed onto the club. Tonight, I’d tell the guys about Emerson Barras. Stormy had gotten involved with a piece of shit, and I needed to pull a few favors to find out how connected Barras was to the mafia.

In my business, trash wasn’t going to take itself out. Secrecy came with a price. And so did discretion and dead bodies. I kept my transactions off the city streets. Cops stayed off my property. I wasn’t going down for doing their job.

First stop was Indulgence. The place was advertised as a spa and massage parlor, but we weren’t open to the general public. The darkened windows and blacked-out door concealed the activities inside.

After I parked my bike next to the curb, I pressed a code into the door lock and entered the building. Gray carpet covered the floor in the foyer, and paintings that looked like pussy hung on the walls. The girls decorated. On paper, the business was theirs.

Scarlett sat on the curvy couch with Blue. Heavy black liner rimmed her dark eyes, and her black hair hung in a straight curtain to her waist .

Blue shot to his feet.

“Where’s Bristol?” I asked him.

“In the office with Clover and Lacey.”

“Good.” I smiled at Scarlett. “Nothing for you to worry about. Do you need me for anything?”

She bounced up and kissed my cheek. “Come find me when you’re done. I’ve missed you.”

I patted her ass. “Probably not today.”

“I don’t have a client tonight. Can I come to the MC?”

“As long as you’ll be a good girl.”

“Always.” She pivoted on her heels and sauntered down the hall. “I’ll bring Skye with me.” The two sisters would be busy.

Blue followed me to the rear of the building. “What’s going on?”

“Same shit as always. Do you got something going with Scarlett?”

“Nah, but you should know Kiss was here last night.”

“She still using?”

“I think so, but I know she wants to change. I let her crash in one of the rooms. She needed a shower and sleep. She was gone before I woke up.”

I slapped Blue’s shoulder. “She’s a junkie.” Kiss was a Heller, but the MC had been toxic for her. The girl had been spiraling for months, in and out of rehabs, but always going back to the easy fix—heroin.

“I know. But I’m not going to give up on her.”

“Be careful that you don’t become another habit for her. ”

“Not all habits are bad habits,” was the last thing Blue said as we entered the office.

Bristol snapped her gaze in my direction. “Where’s Stormy? Is she okay?”

“She’s at the MC. Romeo and Levi are with her.”

“Who’s Stormy?” Blue asked.

“A friend,” Bristol said. “Bullet is going to help her.”

Lacey sat at the desk in front of the computer. “Is that the girl I met at the Landing Strip?”

Bristol nodded.

“I remember her. Pretty girl. A little thin, but she had a nice ass that made up for her small tits. She was dancing fully nude, right?”

“Yep.” Bristol popped the P, and I popped a fucking erection.

Those small tits had felt fantastic pressed against my back as she rode behind me. And yeah, she did have a nice ass. She wasn’t tall, but her legs were long in proportion to her body. Long limbs and petite. Graceful and beautiful. Her features were delicate, and her eyes matched her name. Dark and hypnotic, yet with striations of amber and gold. A tempest of fire.

“Is she looking for side work?” Clover smiled with a raised brow. “We can always use another girl.”

“She’s not interested,” I said.

“I don’t know. She might be,” Bristol interrupted. “She wasn’t going to dance nude, and then she saw how much more money she’d make. The new owners offered a grand to each of us if we fucked in the champagne room. I know she was considering it until she recognized who they were.” Bristol braced a hand on her hip. “Ironically, when I told her I couldn’t fuck them without going through you first is when she realized I work for you.”

I was sure that made a great impression on Stormy, and a misguided one. I’d never told Bristol who she could fuck. As long as she was one of my girls, I’d control those who were going to pay for her pussy. “That rule protects you, kitten. If you work outside of my client base, you don’t need me.”

I’d done a lot of shit to warrant my incarceration. I wasn’t going to the country club for paid pussy. In my early twenties, I’d done a stint in county for possession. Although it was the aggravating charge of resisting arrest that had me sitting in a cage for six months.

No one was touching Stormy. No one would have their hands on her heart-shaped ass or have a taste of her sweetness. Just the thought of her spreading her legs, of revealing her pretty pussy on stage, had tension building in my muscles. When the pressure became too much, I had to fight. Right now, I wanted in the basement with Dozer or Rogue, someone who could take a punch and fight back just as hard and just as dirty.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked with her brows furrowed.

I unclenched my jaw and relaxed my fist.

Bristol continued, “Because I’m just saying she’s desperate to make some money.”

Stormy wasn’t for sale. “No,” I said.

“She’s a maybe, Bullet. Give her time to consider it. She knows both Jinx and I work for you. Maybe she’ll want to be one of your girls once you take care of the asshole who’s after her.”

With anyone beside Bristol, and probably Stormy, my word would be final. “She’s a dancer,” I said. “And that’s all she’s going to be.” And she was hungry. “Shit.”

“What do you need?” Blue asked.

“I need Bristol here with me. I need to talk to the girls.” I ran my hand over my head, pushing my hair from my face. “Stormy’s hungry. Can you take her something to eat?”

“No problem.” He pulled his motorcycle keys from his pocket, shrugged on his cut, and headed toward the door. “Any requests?”

“Food. Oh, and anything with bacon for Levi.”

Blue left, and I sat on the desk. Clover and Lacey took care of the books. Like Bristol, they’d been with me a long fucking time. When the MC had changed their bylaws forbidding illegal activities from club members, I’d signed Indulgence over to them. Maybe forbidden was too strong of a word. Patches still paid for pussy on Saturday nights at the MC. Weed, whiskey, and whores.

What I had with my girls worked. No girlfriend drama. I trusted them, and they trusted me to take care of them. I validated their clients. Referral only so that I knew who to hurt if one of my girls was arrested. Jinx had been with me for a couple of years. Same with Scarlett, but her younger sister, Skye had only been with me a couple of months.

I sat on a loveseat across from the desk and braced my elbows on my knees. With the fingers of my left hand, I twisted the demon skull ring I wore on my middle finger. A serpent wrapped my pinky and Dad’s marine corps ring fit snug on my index. There was a reason my ring finger was bare. I was never getting married.

“This girl, Stormy,” I said to the girls. “I’ve met her before.”

Bristol chewed on her bottom lip as she sank onto the couch next to me.

I stared hard at Bristol. “That night at the warehouse, we thought cartel was moving heroin, but the cargo was girls.” I bowed my head. “Stormy was there, protecting the younger girls. She was fucking terrified.”

Lacey sucked in a sharp breath. I couldn’t look at her, knowing she’d come from a similar terror. Maybe it was fucked up that she’d gone from one pimp to another. But I didn’t claim to be virtuous. The decision was hers. If she wanted to fuck for money, I’d keep her safe.

Bristol’s arms wrapped around me.

I stood, distancing myself from her. I didn’t need her comfort. I owned the shit feeling festering in my gut. “I fucking left her there.”

“Why?” Lacey whispered. “Why didn’t you help her?”

“I couldn’t. The cops were crawling up our ass. I had to protect Blade and Rogue. Then Jazzy rode in with the Heller cavalry. It was a shit show. It wasn’t just her. There had to be close to a dozen girls in the back of a freight truck. We’d risked everything to break the hold the cartel had on us and end the fight with the Crawlers. She was fucking collateral damage.”

Only she shouldn’t have been.

“You can’t save us all,” Lacey said.

Those fucks were going to pay for hurting her. “The guy she’s running from wants her back.” But she was mine now—my responsibility.

I could tell myself I didn’t want her in my bed, but that would make me a liar. I wasn’t going to let anyone else have her either.

“Bristol, you can’t go back to your place. I don’t want you dancing at the Landing Strip. I don’t know how connected they are. Until I do, I think we should shut down.”

“You can stay with us.” Clover and Lacey did all their work here in the spa, and they shared a house in an upper middle-class neighborhood.

“Can I stay at your place?” Bristol asked, stepping closer to me. She lifted her soft eyes to me, a slight tremble to her full, pouty lips.

“I don’t want you out there alone. I’m keeping Stormy at the MC.” I brushed my thumb across her cheek. “It’s just temporary.”

Clover closed up the laptop and slid it into her bag. “I’ll tell the girls.”

I nodded, kissed her on the forehead, and she walked out of the room with Lacey, leaving me alone with Bristol.

I sat on the chair behind the desk. “I know you got questions.”

“I guess I’m just surprised you’d keep a truck full of girls a secret from me. ”

I grabbed her, positioned her in front of me, and rested my hands on her hips. “Because I wasn’t sure that we got out clean. No way was I bringing you down with me.” Not just Bristol. Clover was fucking Wrench, president of the Crawlers to get information. I’d gone undercover with the Crawlers, shot my best friend, lied to my club, and sacrificed my cut.

What the fuck was I doing tangling myself up with brown eyes?

Bristol’s fingers tunneled into my hair, and she climbed onto the chair, straddling my lap. “I’m ride or die for you, baby.”

I cupped her ass and pulled her snug against me. “You don’t want me. What we got is easy, but I’m not that kind of permanent.”

She tipped her head back and laughed. “Don’t I know it.” She focused on my face again, her fingers tracing the ink on my neck, then slid into my cut. “So what happened? You didn’t recognize Stormy at first.”

“She looks different. She had long hair. I couldn’t see much of her in the truck. It was her eyes. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head.”

“Now, you can do what you wanted to do that night. Help her, but don’t make decisions for her. Like Lacey, Clover, Jinx, Scarlett, and now Skye,” she said as she slid off my lap. “— like me —she might not want to leave you.”