Chapter 6 Lacey

P resent—

Skel's hand held mine in an iron grip, not allowing anyone to deter us as we left the storage room and headed straight for the exit of the strip club. My head still buzzed with post-orgasm bliss, and I wished I could have spent five more minutes in his arms before he made his excuses and left me behind. Again.

I could feel his cum drying on my thighs and sticking to my denim shorts as we walked, reaching the exit as one of the bouncers blocked our way. A big Russian guy who spoke broken English and rarely moved from his post.

"No."

I felt Skel stiffen, ready to argue. "She wants to leave."

"Not on the clock."

Shit. I didn't think of that. "I'm not feeling well. I already cleared it with Rosemary."

Rose worked in the back, mainly as a secretary. She was hard as nails and twice as sharp. No one did shit without running it by her first. Even the Russian understood the management protected her. If she said I could leave, he wouldn't stop me.

Of course, I never actually spoke to Rose. That was a lie.

The Russian grunted. "Go."

He stepped aside as Skel nearly dragged me out the front, ordering me onto his bike as he watched the door for trouble. "Hold on tight, Lacey."

I snuggled closer, wrapping my arms around his waist as the Harley's deep base rumble awakened like a slumbering beast beneath us. My entire body vibrated with its cadence, and I knew I'd never felt anything sexier or more alive than this bike and its rider.

"We're headin' to my place."

Skel's house? I hadn't gone back there since the night I was attacked. For the second time. He saved my life twice, and maybe I couldn't see beyond the gratitude I felt or the safety he evoked whenever he was around. But that wasn't quite true. When I was near Skel, everything inside me sparked to life. He made me feel beautiful, sexy, desired and wanted. Things every woman needed.

The ride to his place took fifteen minutes. When we arrived, Skel pushed the button for his garage door, gliding up the driveway to park inside. He didn't waste time closing it, staring out into the night like he wondered if we'd been followed.

"Everything okay?"

He shook his head. "No."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I let him lead, allowing Skel to curl his fingers around mine and pull me into his house. The décor hadn't changed much in three years. All the furniture was the same, but I spotted a new abstract painting in the room he used for an office since he'd left the door open.

Once inside, he released my hand to walk into the kitchen, leaving me alone in the living room. Without his warmth, I began to shiver. The wind had been cold, and I didn't have a jacket. I wore only a tight tank top and jean shorts.

A blanket draped my shoulders as Skel returned and wrapped the soft material around me. "You're cold."

"Yes. Thank you."

"Come on." He steered me toward one of his dark gray couches since the two faced one another, separated by only a coffee table. "Sit. Get warm."

I obeyed, taking a spot on the end of the closest one and burrowing into the blanket.

"I'm going to build a fire."

I didn't protest. The room was chilly. Skel threw a few logs in his fireplace and lit a starter, crouching to coax the embers into flames. Heat began to fill the room as he stood, brushing his hands on his thighs.

"Tell me why you're working at that strip club, Lacey. And no bullshit."

I couldn't help sighing at his brisk tone. "I'm working with the police."

Yeah, he didn't expect that answer. His shoulders rolled before he cracked his neck, striding toward me with a thunderous frown. "The fuck? Why?"

"Because Luis Deigo and Angel Mackenzie traffic girls through Las Vegas, and I'm trying to help stop them."

Skel dropped beside me on the couch. His jaw clenched before he answered me. I could see the tick in the muscle. "Baby, you're done with this. No fucking way are you going back there and ending up a fucking statistic."

I flinched. One, because he didn't have a right to order me to do a damn thing. Two, because he'd have to care about me to react this way. And three, he never sold his house or moved out, and I just realized what that meant.

"Let me clarify," I began, narrowing my eyes as I dropped the blanket and held up my hand, ticking off each of the things I figured out. "You're ordering me to stop the case I'm working on even though you left without offering help when I needed you the most. You act like I didn't mean anything to you after we fucked, but your controlling behavior is a contradiction." I gestured to the room, glaring at Skel. "And you haven't moved or sold your place but said you were leaving Vegas for good. Now you show back up, invade my life, and pretend you don't have any motive for doing it. So who is acting shady as fuck, huh?"

The timing for this argument was awful. Skel's cum had dried on my skin. I could feel it on my inner thighs as I sat on his cushion, feeling stupid and far too exposed. It always happened this way with him, giving in to my body's desires and needs instead of being rational.

"Lacey."

I refused to look at him.

"Baby, give me those pretty eyes."

I lifted my gaze, noting how he no longer appeared angry.

"I fucked up. It's not an excuse. I know I hurt you, and I never wanted that."

Swallowing hard, I nodded.

"For that, I'm sorry. It's the reason I walked away. I thought you were better off without my interference." He reached for my hand and held it. "Your father made it clear that he didn't want a murderer around his daughter. I've got blood on my hands. It's not fair to you."

"My dad told you to leave, didn't he?" I spat, shaking off his hand and rising to my feet in frustration. "You should have spoken to me, Skel. Walking away without hearing what I felt or wanted first wasn't okay."

"You were so young, Lacey. Still in college."

"So? I still know my mind and heart, Bran. I'm not a child."

To get the point across, I used his real name instead of the alias he'd been given as a Marine. The same road name he adopted when he became a biker. I saw the patches on his leather vest and knew what they meant. He was a member of a motorcycle club.

"No, you're not." Skel lifted his hands, resting his palms against my cheeks. "Sweet Girl, you're my pleasure and my pain. There's not a day I don't wake up thinking of you."

"Is that why you came back to Las Vegas?"

No. I could see it in his eyes—the pain of the truth. I had nothing to do with the reason he returned.

Shit. "I see."

"I came back for Maddog, my new president. The club needed me." He stared into my eyes, clearly tortured. "I didn't want to hope that you would still care for me, Lacey. Time forced a wedge between us, and that's my fault."

But he was wrong about my feelings. My heart ached for him as intently now as it did three years ago. I still wanted to be with him. Didn't he feel it when we had sex in the storage room?

"You were crying back there," he continued, guessing where my thoughts had taken me, "Tell me why."

"Because it doesn't matter how much I care about you, Skel. You still won't stay with me."

He closed his eyes, breathing a heavy sigh. They slowly opened as he shook his head. "I fucked this all up."

I stepped back, and his hands fell away. "There's not much point in continuing this conversation. I need to go home."

"Lacey," he began to argue as the power shut off, and we plunged into darkness. Only the fireplace provided enough light to keep us from a total blackout.

"Skel?"

He glanced out the windows. "Fuck."

"What's happening?"

"It's only us." Skel grabbed my hand and led me to the hallway, rushing into his office. "I've got a panic room behind the bookshelves. Stay in there, lock it from the inside, and don't open the door for anyone other than me. Promise me, Lacey."

"Okay," I whispered, blinking as he pulled out a book and flipped a switch in the vacant spot.

The bookcase separated from the wall, and he shoved it open, gesturing for me to duck down. "You have to climb in. There are monitors to see what's happening. Stay quiet. If someone finds you, use one of the guns. Don't hesitate."

"I'm scared," I admitted as I heard a window break. The glass shattered, and I knew we weren't alone.

Skel smashed his mouth to mine, giving me a kiss before pushing me into the panic room. "You're safe," he whispered as he closed the door behind me, and I heard it locking into place. I saw additional security latches and used them, hoping that meant that I prevented someone from opening the secret door.

The room was small. Four walls, a carpeted floor, and a few crates of supplies. There was a desk with several monitors that blipped between images, all showing different angles of Skel's house.

Spinning in a circle, I noticed the room had been well stocked. Keeping quiet, I searched through everything. A mini fridge provided cold drinks. One of the crates held dry goods and snacks like trail mix, protein bars, and peanut butter.

The furniture consisted of the desk with monitors, an office chair, a small couch, the crates, and a table with two folding chairs. Searching through the remaining crates, I found blankets, pillows, and extra clothing. Underneath the desk, I spotted a safe and a thick wooden case. I opened it, finding a handgun and ammo. Wow. This just got real.

The dark room was cool, and I took one of the blankets, wrapping myself up before I sat in the office chair, staring at the monitors. I shouldn't have looked. Three men wearing black clothes had entered the house. One stood inside Skel's office, just feet from where I hid behind the bookcase.

Terrified, I began to tremble, slowly rising to my feet. I pushed the chair away from me and sat on the floor, keeping the monitor in view as I reached for the gun case.

The criminal wore a hoodie pulled low to disguise his features. He circled the room, searching for something as he tossed chairs around and sent the contents of Skel's desk to the floor. I heard something break.

Where was Skel? I looked through each of the monitors but didn't see him. Was he hurt?

Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, another guy joined the first one in the office. Twice the threat. They turned toward the bookcase, and I froze, wondering if they knew Skel had a panic room.

Oh, shit. Shit. Shit!

Guns aimed in my direction, and I lowered to the ground, trying to lay as flat as possible. The bookcase and thin layer of drywall weren't enough barriers to stop bullets. Maybe slow them down if I was lucky but that was it. There was nothing to hide behind, but I could move toward the couch. Sliding in that direction, I remained low, taking refuge as far to the right as I could. From this angle, I couldn't see the monitor.

I sucked in a breath, trying not to panic. If I began wheezing, I didn't have my inhaler. I just needed to remain calm.

I'm safe. They can't reach me. Skel is out there, and he'll protect me.

I repeated the mantra in my head, determined not to break down or alert the men on the other side of the wall. I could do this. Skel would find them before they could find or hurt me.

My confidence shattered when the two men opened fire.