Devil's Game

Chapter One

FIVE MONTHS AGO

COEUR D’ALENE, IDAHO

HUNTER

“Who the fuck gets a pedicure in February?” Skid asked. “Won’t her feet freeze?”

“You don’t know any women at all, do you?” I asked, cracking open a Mountain Dew. We’d driven all night to get here from Portland. What I really wanted was sleep, but Burke’s orders were clear. Scope out Reese “Picnic” Hayes’s daughter and figure out a plan of action. With all the drama that’d happened between our clubs, Burke insisted now was the perfect time to make a move, maybe even rewrite the future for the Devil’s Jacks.

Leverage with the Reapers would be critical—maybe even make the difference between a successful takeover of our club or a shallow grave if we failed. Leverage this little bitch was supposed to provide us, apparently. I wasn’t entirely sure what the old bastard had planned, but I’d do my part. I always did.

I glanced down at the picture of her taped to the truck’s console, then looked at the storefront again. Pretty girl. According to her Facebook page, she was meeting a friend here this morning. I’d spotted her car as soon as we pulled in. Now we waited. I wanted to study her, maybe trail her a little. Get a sense of who she was before making my move. There were so many different ways to play a woman—I found it never paid to make assumptions.

“I know your sister,” Skid announced out of nowhere.

I gave him a blank look.

“You asked if I know any women. Does she count? ’Cause her toes are cute as hell, but I don’t see her walkin’ around in flip-flops in the snow.”

“Why the fuck are you lookin’ at my sister’s toes, cocksucker?”

“I look at a lot more than her toes.”

“Don’t make me kill you, bro.”

He snorted and shrugged. “You could try.”

I adjusted my sunglasses, deciding to ignore him. The truck windows were tinted, but I’d still taken a few basic precautions to change my appearance. Hipster beanie, which matched the full beard I’d grown for my last job. Long-sleeved shirt that covered my ink. Even if she saw me, all I needed was a quick shave and change to turn into a different man.

The shop door opened and I sat up as two girls stepped out. There she was.

Emmy Lou Hayes.

“That’s our girl,” I said, with a jerk of my chin. She was studying her phone and, sure as shit, she wore flip-flops. Bright pink foam thingies threaded through her toes, separating them, and I wondered how the hell she could even walk. Fuckin’ crazy. At least the sidewalk was mostly clear of snow. Her brown hair sat on top of her head in one of those messy topknot things girls always seem to have, and she wore tight little jeans and a black leather jacket.

Damn, Em was cute. Way cuter than her sister.

Something fell out of her pocket, and she turned away, leaning down to grab it.

“Nice ass,” Skid said. “Very sweet. If you have to fuck her, at least you’ll be able to keep your eyes open, unlike that last bitch you did for the club.”

I snorted, but he raised a good point. Fucking Em had just jumped up a couple notches on my list of possible ways to manipulate her into helping the Jacks. She glanced down at her phone again, waving good-bye to her friend absently.

Then she walked right off the curb and almost fell on her ass.

Her phone flew across the ground and under a car, like something out of a TV show. Em staggered to one side and then the other, somehow managing to stay on her feet, arms flailing. Skid choked back a laugh, but I just watched, mesmerized, as she finally caught herself. That’s when Em looked up and across the parking lot, right into my face. Her expression was startled but fucking gorgeous. She broke into a brilliant smile, offering me a goofy wave.

My cock stiffened and a burst of adrenaline hit me like a punch to the gut. Sticking my dick inside Emmy Hayes had suddenly become a very high priority. It took everything I had not to throw open the truck door and toss the girl over my shoulder before hauling her back home for a long, hard fuck. Instead I sat back and watched.

There’s a reason the club calls me Hunter.

She lifted one leg slightly, pointing at her toes and giving a triumphant thumbs-up in my direction before turning away to search for her phone.

“Christ, there’s something wrong with that chick,” Skid muttered, but I ignored him. Instead I grabbed my phone and dialed Burke, my mind made up.

“Burke, I’m lookin’ at her right now.”

“You got a plan for me?”

“Gettin’ there,” I told him. “But whatever direction we take, Emmy Hayes stays my target. Nobody fucks with her but me.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

“Make it work for the club, son, and I could give a fuck. But no matter how much you want the bitch, don’t forget where your loyalties lie. Jacks first. Forever.”

“Jacks first,” I agreed, watching as she dug her phone out of the snow.

This was gonna be fun.

PRESENT DAY

COEUR D’ALENE, IDAHO

EM

“If you don’t make a move on Painter tonight, I will personally charter a plane, fly up there, and kick your ass.”

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered into the phone at my sister. “But you don’t get a vote. I’m still pissed at you for not coming home this summer.”

“Riiight,” she drawled. “Let me see—internship in San Francisco or yet another summer of Dad growling at me … Sooo tempting. If you had half a brain, your ass would be down here with me.”

I rolled my eyes.

“It’s not that easy, Kit.”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice sharp. “It is that easy. Let me walk you through the conversation. ‘Dad, I’ve decided I want a life. Deal with it.’ Then get in your car and drive south.”

I sighed.

“It’s not that easy for me,” I said, looking over at the Reapers clubhouse. The big, isolated former National Guard Armory was fully lit, a beacon in the summer twilight. The trees surrounding it felt familiar, like old friends. I’d played in them as child—hide-and-seek, pixies … oh, and motorcycle clubs. We’d played MC a lot.

Pisser about that—now the boys got to play Reapers for real and I still couldn’t land a fucking date.

“I don’t like that disappointed look in Dad’s eyes,” I said, fully aware my voice held a hint of whine. “You know, how they get cold and icy right before he starts punching walls?”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re still in high school,” Kit replied. “So what if he gets pissed off? That’s what he does—he gets pissed, he yells, it’s over. Yell back, for Chrissake.”

“Easy for you to say,” I replied. “You’re the baby. You can get away with anything. He has all these expectations of me.”

“Enough,” she snapped. “I’m not going to listen to you feeling all sorry for yourself all night. I’m the youngest, but you’re the fucking baby. Either shit or get off the pot.”

“That’s kind of mean,” I said, frowning.

“No, that’s reality. You’re twenty-two years old and still bitching about Daddy not letting you out to play. You want to be his little-girl doll the rest of your life? Fine. That’s your choice. But if you do, you don’t get to complain about him. Grow a fucking pair already.”

Then she hung up on me.

I sat in the car, stunned. Kit never hung up on me. We talked, we fought, we laughed … but she always had my back.

Shit.

A loud knock on the window nearly gave me a heart attack. I looked up to see my friend Marie standing outside, arms crossed, face expectant. Must be almost time. I climbed out of the car and she caught me up in a hug.

“You excited?” she asked, eyes shining. “Because you don’t look excited. You look like someone stole your last M&M. You know, one of the red ones? I always keep those for the end. They taste best.”

I stared at her.

“You’re weird, you realize that, right?”

She laughed and shrugged.

“I’m okay with it. You didn’t answer the question.”

“I guess I’m excited,” I said, although my little chat with Kit had put a damper on things. “I mean, it’s great that Painter’s getting his patch …”

Marie widened her eyes at me and smirked.

“Don’t give me that,” she said. “You’ve got a thing for him. I know you’ve got a thing for him, because you tell me all about it whenever you get drunk.”

I shrugged, a smile catching me off guard.

“Okay, so I have a thing for him,” I admitted.

“And he definitely has a thing for you,” Marie replied. “He’s like a puppy whenever he sees you.”

I grunted, my smile fading.

By some miracle, I hadn’t spilled the story of when I’d cornered Painter last month and made him an offer no red-blooded man should’ve been able to refuse … An offer he’d shot down without a second thought. In fact, I’d tried to seduce him several times over the past year. A year I’d spent watching him, lusting after him, and thinking about what things might be like between us.

I didn’t get why he wouldn’t sleep with me. I knew the attraction was mutual. Everyone saw it. His eyes followed me around the clubhouse, and when I went out, he menaced anyone who hit on me. Dad wasn’t too hot on the thought of me with any guy, but he’d told me that someday he’d like to see me settled with a Reaper.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” I asked, grabbing my bag. “Sorry I couldn’t come out to help set up. I had a late appointment and really wanted to get her in. I already canceled on her once, so her nails were way overdue for a fill.”

“No worries,” Marie said, tucking her arm through mine. We started toward the gate to the courtyard, and despite my concerns her mood was contagious. Tonight was a happy night—after more than a year of prospecting, Painter would become the newest full member of the club.

In fact, he probably was already.

I’d just gotten here, but I’d seen this happen my whole life. First the guys would drag him off with some story about this shitty job he needed to do, or tell him he’d fucked up something important. They’d scare the crap out of him, and then when he was just about ready to die from a heart attack, they’d surprise him with the new patches for his cut.

Those patches marked him as a Reaper, now and forever.

As for us ladies? It was our job to put together the party, and I was sorry to have missed out on that … It might be work, but it was laughter and drinking and joking, too. Made me think of my mom—five years ago we’d buried her, and I never missed her more than on nights like tonight. One of my earliest memories was of playing under the tables in our backyard while she set up for a club party. This was a celebration for Painter, but it was also a gathering of my family. They weren’t exactly typical … They were mine, though, and I loved them.

Tonight that family was getting bigger.

“I really wish Mom was here,” I said. Marie smiled at me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and hugging me tight. Then she dragged me past Banks, the unfortunate prospect left behind to watch the clubhouse, and we walked into the courtyard.

The guys were late.

It’d been about forty-five minutes—just enough time for me to drink two beers and exchange texts with my friend Liam. I’d never actually met him except online … But I knew he wasn’t a total serial killer because he was a regular at my friend Cookie’s coffee shop in Portland. He posted on her Facebook page all the time.

That’s how we’d first started talking, a few months back. He’d comment on one of my posts, then I’d comment on one of his, and then one day he sent me a private message and things took off from there. Now we texted each other all the time. He was funny and interesting and he actually listened to me. Total opposite of Painter, now that I thought of it. It was nice to have a friend who wasn’t all tied up in club life—Liam was nice and normal and safe.

ME: Painter isn’t here yet. Fingers crossed for me!!!

LIAM: I don’t get why you’re bothering with this douche. A real man doesn’t sit around waiting when he meets the right woman. He makes a plan to claim her ass

ME: Little Neanderthal, ya think? Someone’s grumpy tonight

LIAM: Call it like I see it. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks he bails on you. Not because you aren’t gorgeous, Em, but because he’s a fucking pussy. Don’t you see what’s going on here? He wants to make your dad happy, not you

ME: Whose side are you on?

LIAM: Yours

I frowned down at the phone. I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. Liam didn’t like Painter, and he could be kind of a jerk about it. He’d even made a joke once about Dad selling me off for six goats and some aftermarket Harley parts. It hit a little too close to home …

That didn’t mean he was right about Painter, though.

ME: You don’t know everything.

LIAM: Never pretended to. But I do know you deserve better than a guy who ignores you for a year.

ME: He doesn’t ignore me. It’s complicated. You should see him when we all go out. He’s always watching out for me

LIAM: No, he guards you. There’s a difference

I frowned. It was complicated. Painter had been prospecting, which meant he wasn’t exactly free. But Liam didn’t know that—I hadn’t told him about the club for some reason, although he knew Dad was a biker. I guess I liked having one person in my life who didn’t see me as the president’s daughter. Hell, in some ways Liam was the only person I could really be myself with. Tonight, though …

Tonight he was pissing me off.

Enough.

ME: I have to go

I muted my phone, then shoved it in my pocket. Then I grabbed another beer and wandered toward Marie and the other girls, who were laughing over some story she was telling about her old man, Horse. Good music was playing, and as the alcohol warmed me from the inside out, I felt optimistic, despite Liam. What did he know, anyway?

I fully intended to end the night in Painter’s bed.

Or on his bike.

Maybe under a tree?

Hell, I didn’t care. Not so long as he finally punched my V card and I got my prize, along with a lovely “thank you” for playing. And yeah, I know it’s fucking ridiculous I still had a V card to punch. But Dad wasn’t exactly friendly toward my boyfriends. One of his favorite things to do was show them his guns and talk about the types of damage different bullets could do to the human body.

Oh, and then there was that hunting accident. Oops.

For some reason, the men of Coeur d’Alene started avoiding me after that one. Now the closest I got to flirting was chatting with Liam, which was pretty pathetic when you considered he lived nearly four hundred miles away.

Tonight, I told myself. Tonight everything changes.

The men still weren’t back after another half hour, but I didn’t just stand around waiting for Painter. Hanging out with my friends kicked ass. Most of them were old ladies, meaning they were attached in some way to one of the guys in the club. Some were like me, though … adrift. Maggs, for one. Her man was in prison, so she was on her own.

There weren’t any kids at the Armory because things would probably get crazy fast. I could already see a few women clumped on the other side of the courtyard just waiting for the wild times to start. Hangaround types, club sluts, sweetbutts. Some were strippers from The Line, the club’s titty bar (and yes, that’s what they called it, so don’t blame me!), and others were girls who just weren’t into settling down. They all had one thing in common, though—they were disposable. I’d grown up with them in the background, and in the past few years I’d woken up to find more than one in our kitchen making breakfast.

Dad was kind of a slut himself these days.

Their group didn’t usually mix with ours and we liked it that way. I knew my dad never cheated on my mom, and I knew some of the guys—Marie’s man, Horse, for example—could keep it in their pants. But others slept around. We all saw it. I never quite understood why a woman would put up with that, but I figured that other people’s relationships weren’t really my business.

Now we heard the thunder of bikes pulling up outside and the brothers started coming in. Dad was first, and I saw him glancing around until his eyes found me. His hard face broke into a smile, the same ice-blue eyes I’d inherited from him flashing with pride. The rest of the guys followed him, and then hoots and whistles rang out as Painter walked in, grinning like crazy.

God, he was cute. Short, spiky blond hair, sharp cheekbones … His body was lean but strong, and at six feet tall he had a good five inches on me. Didn’t hurt that he’d taken off his shirt, wearing his cut over his bare chest.

Yum.

I’d had my arms wrapped tight around that chest more than once when he’d given me a ride home, although it never went past that. It’s a matter of respect for my dad, I reminded myself. He was the president of the club and Painter knew better than to mess around with me if he wasn’t serious. To be fair, prospects didn’t really have the time to be serious about anyone.

At least that’s what I’d been telling myself.

Prospects were too busy running errands, guarding bikes, and whatever other nasty or degrading jobs the members could think of. All that had changed now. This party was for Painter—he’d earned some fun, and the guys would make sure he got it. I had my own special congratulations to offer, although it might take a few hours to get him alone. I would, though. I was determined.

Tonight was our night.

“How goes it, Emmy Lou?” asked Duck, coming up and pulling me in for a hug. I crinkled my nose. I hated that old nickname, but it was damned hard to get rid of one once it stuck.

“Good,” I said. “You got a beer yet? Want me to grab you one?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he muttered, looking across the yard. I saw his eye catch on one of the girls. “Who’s that? She with your dad, or just here to party?”

He nodded toward a blonde who’d wrapped herself around my father. My eyes widened. Holy shit, I’d gone to high school with that bitch. In fact, she’d been a fucking freshman when I was a senior. Disgusting. I shrugged, feeling a sense of inevitability about the situation.

“Hell if I know,” I muttered. “I stopped keeping track of his whores.”

My tone came out uglier than I’d intended, and Duck gave me a sharp look.

“Sounding a little bitter there, Emmy Lou,” Duck said. “You aren’t in the mood to have fun, maybe you should go home. This isn’t a family party and Picnic’s free to screw whoever he wants. Not your job to judge.”

I sighed, knowing he was right. Dad was definitely free—to the best of my knowledge, he hadn’t even had a steady hookup since Mom died. I wasn’t in charge of his social life and if I was going to be uptight about sex, I was in the wrong place. I looked over to see two blondes with long legs, short shorts, and cutoff tops wrapping themselves around Painter, taking turns giving him congratulatory kisses.

Oh hell no.

I wasn’t leaving him alone with those hos. Tonight was do or die—he’d be mine or I’d be done with him. If I stayed, I might end up in Painter’s bed. I might not. But if I left? One of them would be sleeping there for sure.

“What he does is up to him,” I muttered. I left Duck to grab a couple of cups, filling one for each of us. I brought it back to him and then stood and watched the crowd.

Everywhere I looked there were couples.

Marie and Horse, Bam Bam and Dancer … Ruger and his random skank of the week.

“Holy shit,” I burst out, almost spewing my beer.

“What?” Duck asked.

“That’s my teacher from cosmetology school over there with Ruger,” I muttered. “Oh, she is such a cunt. She failed me three times in a row just because Dad didn’t call her back after he fucked her.”

Duck snorted out a laugh.

“Good thing you’re all graduated, because Ruger won’t be calling her back, either.”

And just like that, my good mood was back. Go Ruger!

“I’m gonna congratulate Painter,” I said.

“Have at it,” Duck said. “But remember—this is his time to cut loose.”

“I know,” I replied. “Maybe I can help him celebrate.”

Duck’s expression clouded.

“Emmy Lou, tonight isn’t the night.”

“It’s never the night,” I said, shrugging. Then I chugged my beer. “Don’t worry, Duck. You’ve always taken good care of me, but I’ve got it covered. I’m an adult.”

“Yeah, I know,” Duck replied. “I guess when I look at you, I still see you with pigtails and a doll.”

I rolled my eyes. Then I tossed my cup in the garbage and headed over to the newest Reaper.

Painter stood next to the bonfire, the two girls still hanging off him. I ignored them completely, because they were just club sluts and I was the president’s daughter. They didn’t rank compared to me and we all knew it. Painter gave me a slow smile as I walked up, and from the glassy look in his eyes I knew he was already well on his way to shitfaced.

“Hey, Em,” he said, reaching out and pulling me into his arms for a hug. Oh, he smelled good. Kind of woodsy and smoky, with an underlying scent of motor oil from the shop. His arms were hard and roped with muscle around me, and his body was hard, too.

Hellfire.

Painter’s dick was hard. I thought it was my imagination at first. Then he pulled me closer and I felt it again—bigger. Yeah, I know. V card. Little Miss Innocent. But just because I’d never done the deed all the way didn’t mean I was ignorant. I knew damned well when a guy’s cock was poking my stomach.

Then he let me go and I stepped back, thankful that the sun had set because I knew my face had to be flushed. Painter looked down at me, and something almost magical hung between us. He stared at me like I was the most beautiful girl on earth, the woman he planned to claim as his own.

My dad walked up and slapped his back.

“Congratulations, son,” he said. “Proud of you.”

Just like that, Painter dropped his arms and turned away, apparently oblivious to our magic. Dad was well and truly cock-blocking me, and it was bullshit.

Wait, did it count as a cock-block if you didn’t have a cock?

“You have fun tonight,” Dad was telling him. “Tomorrow you rest and recover, because after that we’ve got work for you.”

Painter nodded, running a hand through his hair. One of the blondes who’d been hanging off him attached herself to my dad, and the other oozed back up to Painter right in front of me. I wanted him to tell her to fuck off. Maybe rip out some of that bleached hair. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a hard kiss.

Damn it.

Dad’s eyes flicked toward me, assessing.

I turned and walked away.

Fuck that shit. I had my pride.

Two hours later I was well and truly drunk.

Maggs and I sat in the old tree house that attached to the children’s play structure with a rope bridge. I’d barely made it over the swaying net and wasn’t entirely sure I’d be able to get back down without help.

“Life is short,” Maggs said suddenly. Her face was sad.

“You thinking about Bolt?” I asked. She nodded.

“Yup,” she said. “I think about him every day, but particularly at parties like this. I’m tired of watching everyone else have fun with nothing at home for me but my magic bullet.”

I snorted out a little laugh, then forced it down because it wasn’t exactly appropriate. I couldn’t help it, though.

“Buzzzzzzzz …” I hummed with drunken precision. “You go through a lot of batteries? I know I do. Can you make it walk across a table if you turn it on high enough?”

Maggs started giggling, her momentary sadness gone, and then we were both laughing. In fact, we laughed so hard that Maggs rolled off the edge of the platform, falling to the ground with a thud.

“Maggs!” I yelled, jumping up so fast I almost went over myself. “Maggs, are you okay?”

She moaned and turned over, looking up at me with a startled expression on her face. Then she started giggling again. Ruger and Bam Bam had been sitting near the fire, and Ruger jumped up so fast he dumped the chick on his lap off into the dirt.

I couldn’t help it. I burst out cackling so hard my stomach hurt. It wasn’t appropriate, I knew that. Maggs could’ve broken her neck. But the look on her face and the sight of Ruger’s ’ho—my former teacher—on the ground were just too funny.

“Okay,” I heard a deep voice say, and looked down to see my dad. “Looks like someone needs to head home.”

He reached up for me and I jumped down into his arms, just like I had when I was a little girl. Dad caught me easily, still as strong now as he’d been ten years ago. Of course, he was only forty-two, way younger than most of my friends’ parents.

“Emmy Lou, you’re drunk off your ass,” he told me.

“No shit,” I replied brightly. “I’m having fun.”

“Yeah, but it’s about time for you to go home.”

“Are you serious?” I asked. “Dad, I think it’s great that you’re always watching out for me, but I’m not a little kid. There’s nothing wrong with me sticking around.”

His face softened.

“Sweetheart, this is Painter’s night,” he said. “His time to celebrate and be free. You shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re talking about him fucking whores, right?” I asked. Dad stiffened.

“It’s none of your business, Em,” he replied. “He doesn’t owe you anything.”

“I’m aware,” I said grimly.

Dad sighed.

“Banks will give you a ride,” he said. “You don’t have to leave right this minute, but I want you to stop drinking now and start saying your good-byes. Got me?”

“Yes,” I said, and thought about Kit. “You know, I don’t have to do everything you say.”

That caught him off guard—I saw it in his eyes.

“No, you don’t,” he admitted, shocking me. “But you have to do what the club president says on club property. Painter’s a Reaper now. You’re my daughter, but he’s my brother—and tonight is about the brothers.”

I wanted to flip him off. Instead I nodded and quietly pulled away from him. He knew I wasn’t happy but didn’t push. I looked around, finding Maggs still sitting under the tree. Ruger was crouched down next to her, showing her something on his phone. I wandered over to join them.

“This is him,” Ruger was saying, flashing a picture. I looked down to see a shot of Ruger, a little boy, and a pretty woman I didn’t recognize.

“Your nephew?” I asked. “He’s cute.”

“Fuckin’ adorable,” Ruger replied. “That’s Sophie—his mom—next to him. They’re in Seattle, I need to get over there and check out their new place soon. I saw them earlier this summer but I didn’t get much time.”

Something in his tone caught me—Ruger sounded almost … wistful? No, that wasn’t right. Ruger was many things, but never sweet or longing. He’d always taken what he wanted because he could. I leaned over for a closer look and nearly fell on my ass.

Dad was right—I really was pretty drunk.

“Maggs, I’m heading home,” I said. “You okay here? Wanna take in a movie or something?”

“I think I’ll stick around,” she replied. “It’s good people-watching. Dancer’s got a sitter for the night and she’s lit up like a firecracker, so things could get fun.”

I laughed. Dancer lit up was something worth seeing, no question. I waved at them vaguely, then wandered around saying good-bye to a few key people.

The one person I didn’t see was Painter.

I grabbed my stuff and ducked into the building for a quick pee before leaving. Painter was there in the hallway, leaning against the wall and looking at his phone. This time there weren’t any skanks or parents to get in the way. Perfect. I walked over to him and put my hand on his bare chest.

“Hey,” I said, looking up at him. His eyes flared, and I saw desire in his face. He wanted me.

“Hey,” he said back.

I dragged a finger down the center of his chest slowly, all the way to his stomach. Then I spread my fingers out, brushing the top of his jeans. His breath hissed.

“So are we doing this or not?” I asked him bluntly. “Because I’m tired of waiting.”

His eyes darkened and he leaned forward, kissing me very softly on the forehead. A sweet kiss. The kind of kiss you give a little girl at bedtime. Something inside me broke. I’d have said it was my heart, but I didn’t feel sad.

Nope. I was fucking pissed.

Painter had been following me around without making a move for a year. I’d go out dancing and he’d scare off guys who tried to buy me a drink. I’d pick up groceries for the club and he’d insist on following me and unloading them. I even caught him checking my tire pressure once. He’d given me rides home more times than I could count.

“You’re a pussy tease,” I told him. His eyes widened. I dropped my hand lower and gripped his cock firmly through the front of his jeans. Hard as a rock, and good-sized, too. Total waste, so far as I was concerned. “This wants me. But either you’re too fucking chicken or you want more time to play around. So sorry, but you lose. Eat shit and die, Painter.”

I turned and walked back outside, feeling a rush of something … almost wild?

It was liberating.

I felt empowered, and looking around the party I realized that no matter how much I loved these people, I needed to branch out. I was more than Picnic’s daughter, but none of them seemed to get that. I’d show them. I’d show all of them, and Painter could spend the rest of his life screwing his whores. Sooner or later he’d figure out they were shit compared to me, but it’d be too goddamned late.

I was almost out the gate when I discovered the fatal flaw in my big exit.

My purse still sat on the bathroom counter. I groaned, wondering if I could risk leaving it. Nope. No fucking way it’d be safe at a party like this. Nobody from the club would mess with it, but I didn’t trust these random bitches for a minute. I turned and headed back inside, hoping Painter had taken himself off somewhere. I didn’t want to look at him right now. No matter how empowered a girl got, there’s only so much you can expect of yourself.

No sign of him in the hallway. That was good news. I sighed in relief as I pushed into the bathroom, then froze.

Painter had some slut pushed down across the counter, ass pumping as he fucked her from behind. She moaned dramatically with each stroke. Her disgusting, porno-red lips could’ve kissed my handbag sitting next to her on the counter, her face was so close to it. Neither of them seemed to notice me.

I wanted to run and hide.

Instead I walked calmly over to the counter and reached for my bag. Painter stopped suddenly, looking down at me with horrified eyes not a foot away from my face. I let my eyes trail slowly along the length of his body, from his sculpted chest to the faded jeans he hadn’t even bothered to push down, with pointed disgust. Then I turned and walked out the door. I heard him yell my name and the girl squawked in outrage.

I didn’t slow down or look back.

I held it together for the ride home. I’d be damned if I’d give that asshole one more ounce of my energy. He didn’t even deserve my thoughts.

Damn it.

Why had I left my purse there? I’d wanted to be done with Painter, but it didn’t need to be so humiliating. I decided that if anyone showed me even one tiny drop of pity, I’d shoot them.

Dad wasn’t the only one with a gun.

Banks dropped me off at the house and I stumbled in, still slightly drunk and pissy as hell. Story of my life—things were starting to get good, so naturally something happened to fuck it up. And that “something” was always connected to the Reapers. To be fair, everything in my life was connected to the Reapers, but still … I grabbed a pop out of the fridge and climbed the stairs to my room. I pulled off my clothes and then clambered into bed with the TV remote.

My phone dinged with a text message. I considered ignoring it, but habit won out.

LIAM: How’s the party? Hey, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole earlier. I just want you to be happy. You deserve good things, Em

I smiled, immediately feeling a little better. Unlike some people, Liam had better things to do on a Saturday night than sticking his dick in random skanks—texting me, for one. Of course, I’d never actually met him in person, so maybe he was fucking skanks? If so, at least he didn’t rub it in my face.

ME: Tonight was a bust … Worst party ever

LIAM: I take it things didn’t work out with Painter?

ME: Nope. He’s screwing some slut as we speak, while I settle in for another night alone. Long story

LIAM: Fuck that asshole. You’re better than him—way too good to settle for some pissant who won’t fight for you

I almost started crying. Liam always knew what to say.

ME: Thanks ((hugs))

LIAM: You got my full support, babe, but I draw the line at texting hugs. It’s a guy thing. I start doing that shit, the other guys’ll confiscate my dick. Can’t risk it

I giggled.

ME: Well, I wouldn’t want you to lose your favorite toy over a text message.

LIAM: Oh, it’s not a toy …

ME: I’ll take your word on that. What are you up to tonight?

LIAM: Not much. Just hanging out, watching some TV. Thinking about you

ME: :)

LIAM: So please tell me you’re ready to ditch his ass now? Permanently?

ME: Definitely. Even if he came after me at this point, I’d be crazy to give him a shot. Hate to admit it, but you were right

LIAM: I’m always right … So how about me?

ME: ?

LIAM: How about giving me a shot?

I froze.

I liked Liam. I liked him a lot—I’d even fantasized about him a little, especially when Painter was being a jerk. But that’s all it was—a fantasy. Liam was far away, safe. Still, I knew he was hot because Cookie told me. I’d also seen a few pictures online, although his profile was pretty sparse.

ME: You serious?

LIAM: Yeah. I want to meet you

ME: Um …

LIAM: No pressure. Think about it. I just wanted you to know I’m interested. I think about you a lot. You’re fucking beautiful, Em, and I’m not just saying that to make you feel good. It’s a fact. Funny too

Shit.

Wow. I felt myself flushing and felt all warm. Liam was cute, but I’d never really let myself think of him that way. Not really. Still, it seemed like I could talk to him about anything. He always had time for me and he didn’t try to tell me what to do. Of course, it helped that in some ways he wasn’t quite real to me.

But this was very real.

ME: Are you sure you’re not a sixty-year-old ax murderer?

LIAM: Give me a minute

I waited, feeling a strange sense of excitement. Then my phone pinged again, and a picture came through. Like I said, I’d seen Liam’s photos before. There was his profile pic, and a couple of snaps of him at a park.

This was something else, though.

He’d taken it with his phone in what was clearly his bathroom, and holy hotness … Liam wore ratty jeans that hung low on his hips, the top button loose and the second in clear danger. No shirt, and his dark brown hair had that sloppy, messy thing going for it. His face was beautiful, almost pretty. Hell, if he didn’t have all those tattoos running across his shoulder and down his arm, he could’ve been in a boy band.

Except nobody in a boy band ever had muscles like those.

He needed a shave, I decided. My eyes dropped back down to his jeans, and I couldn’t help but notice a pretty good bulge down there.

Shit, is he …?

No, I decided. Must just be how the jeans folded. I had a dirty mind.

LIAM: Not an old man …

ME: Um

LIAM: Call me

This was a huge step. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Sure, we’d talked on Facebook and texted each other. A phone call, though …

Couldn’t hurt, right?

I took a deep breath and a wave of dizziness washed through me. Booze or excitement? Maybe my judgment was off. I wanted to call him, though. I wanted to call him a lot. I scrolled through my contact list and found Liam’s phone number. I pressed the green button and listened as the phone rang.

Chapter Two

THREE WEEKS LATER

SPOKANE, WASHINGTON

I fluffed up my boobs, studying my cleavage carefully in the bar’s bathroom mirror. I’d worn a black halter corset, which I was now second-guessing.

“I look like a slut,” I moaned.

“Walking the line between hot and slutty is tricky,” Kimber said, leaning forward to put on more lipstick. She smacked her lips carefully, then ran her tongue over her teeth. “But you’re firmly on the hot side tonight. I still think you should be wearing more makeup, though.”

I glanced at her, wondering if she was right. I’d only met Kimber a week ago, but she seemed to have her shit together. Sophie called her a sexual bloodhound. Of course, I’d only known her a week, too, but she was the mother of Ruger’s nephew, so she came with references.

“You look fantastic,” Soph said, from the stall behind us. “I wouldn’t have let you out of the hotel room if you didn’t. How much time before the mysterious and magnificent Liam arrives?”

I glanced down at my phone.

“Looks like I’ve got maybe half an hour?” I said. “If he’s on time.”

“I cannot wait to check him out,” Kimber declared. “If he’s hot, can I grab his ass? I need to know if those pictures were real. If they are, you’re just lucky I’m married.”

“Behave,” Sophie said, opening the stall door. She joined us to wash her hands. “I think we need a picture together.”

She pulled out her phone and held it up.

“Okay, strike a pose,” she said. “I want to see sexy, I want to see passion! This is not a game, ladies.”

I started giggling as Kimber crouched, pointing her fingers like a gun at the mirror. Sophie clicked the pic and we all looked at it.

Wow, I did look sort of hot.

“Text that to me?” I asked.

“Me, too,” Kimber chimed in. Sophie fiddled with her phone, then mine buzzed in my pocket.

“Serious talk now,” I said, looking at them in the mirror. “I know I said I wanted to have sex with Liam, but only if it feels right. Don’t be disappointed in me if it doesn’t happen.”

Sophie wrapped her arm around me.

“Hon, you shouldn’t do anything that doesn’t feel right.”

“Exactly,” Kimber said. “Just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he brushes his teeth. There’s all kind of potential deal breakers here. Just remember, if he isn’t what you want, there’s always another guy. You just need to stay away from the club and you’ll start meeting them.”

“I still feel weird being here without my dad knowing,” I said. “There’s been lots of trouble this past year … For a long time we were all on lockdown. They almost got Marie, you know. The Devil’s Jacks?”

Kimber’s eyebrows rose.

“Really? Is that a story I want to hear?”

I frowned.

“I don’t know all the details—what I do know is that I didn’t get to go anywhere without protection for a long time,” I answered. “The Jacks and the Reapers have always fought with each other.”

“But you’re not on lockdown now,” Sophie said firmly. “And you haven’t been for a while, right? Ruger is crazy controlling about safety for me and Noah, and he didn’t say anything about needing protection. We’re fine. It’s just a night out—no drama, unless getting well and truly fucked counts as drama. Fingers crossed for you on that one, babe.”

I thought about Liam’s picture and felt a delicious shiver run through me. Fingers crossed for sure … I wanted to lick him all over. There were six condoms in my purse, just ready and waiting. Not that I thought we’d need six, but a girl could hope, right?

“I want to dance,” Kimber said. “You up for it, ladies?”

“Yeah,” Sophie said, but I shook my head.

“I want to grab another drink first,” I told them. “It’s silly, but I feel really nervous about this.”

“Drink up,” Kimber said. “But not too much. Don’t want to make an ass of yourself and turn him off.”

“Oh, shit,” I muttered. “Do you think I will? This is so weird and scary … I don’t want to blow it.”

“You have a black corset, tight jeans, fuck-me heels, and a purse full of condoms,” Sophie said gravely. “It would take a lot to turn him off. This isn’t about whether he likes you. It’s about whether you like him—otherwise you’ll just keep shopping around.”

I hugged her impulsively.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Any time,” she whispered back, squeezing me tight. “Now go out there and get a drink, then come dance for a while. Life is too short to waste time on a guy who isn’t right for you, no matter how hot he is. Always remember that.”

I considered her words, wondering if she was talking about me or herself. Sophie’s situation with Ruger was complicated … Sophie let me go and then we walked out of the bathroom and into the bar.

I sat at a table toward the front of the room, sipping a Sex on the Beach, loud music pounding through me like a manic heartbeat. It felt like the clock over the bar must be broken, time moved so slowly. I kept thinking about the hotel room I’d booked earlier tonight. Kimber and Sophie had one connected to it—safety first, right? Assuming everything went well, I’d be taking Liam back to that room in a few hours.

My intentions toward him weren’t honorable.

Not even a little bit.

Letting go of my crush on Painter had been hard—good thing I had Liam to get me through and remind me I had options. Whatever else happened, I owed him for that. I swirled the drink with my straw, then looked up to see him leaning against the bar.

Shit. SHIT. Liam was here. Early.

I wasn’t ready yet. My mojo was all fucked up. It didn’t help that he wasn’t smiling. Nope, he was looking at me like a hungry animal. So hungry it was scary, and I actually glanced behind me because I couldn’t believe that look was actually for me.

Then he pushed off the bar and started toward me. I froze, terrified. What had I been thinking, meeting a total stranger in a bar? I didn’t know this man. He was … bigger than I’d pictured. I mean, I’d seen pictures but my phone screen was small. “Small” wasn’t a word that applied to this guy. Liam in real life seemed to take up more space than the people around him. He was sexy, too. All long, lean muscles that flowed as he crossed the room. His gray henley covered broad shoulders, and his faded jeans moved like a part of his body.

He also wore biker boots and a Harley-Davidson belt buckle.

Holy shit, was Liam a biker? He’d never said a thing about that. What else hadn’t he told me? People moved out of his way, the women eyeing him speculatively and the men uncomfortable meeting his eyes.

Then he stopped in front of me.

“Em,” he said, reaching out to catch a strand of my hair. He rolled it between his fingers and smiled. It transformed his face from terrifying and dangerous to outright glorious. His eyes were a rich dark brown, with long lashes, and his hair really needed a trim. I wanted to touch it. “You’re prettier in real life than your pictures.”

I warmed, feeling what had to be a truly dorky grin take over my face.

“You’re taller,” I said, projecting my voice over the music.

He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, then slipped into the chair opposite me. I felt myself relax with the distance, until I realized that now I had to face his intense gaze head-on. The pictures hadn’t conveyed the power of his eyes—not even close. I had no idea what to say or do, so I took a sip of my drink. He cocked his head, eyes fixed on my lips. I sat there like an idiot, watching him watching me.

“You want something?” a waitress yelled over the music, breaking my Liam-induced trance.

“Yeah,” he told her. “I’ll take an IPA, whatever you have on tap. You want another?”

I shook my head and the waitress moved on to the next table.

“This is really awkward,” I said, giving a nervous laugh.

He held a hand up to his ear. Great. He couldn’t hear me.

“This is really awkward,” I yelled. “I mean, I know we know each other, but meeting in person is weird.”

Liam’s mouth cracked in a panty-wetting grin.

“It’s different,” he said back, voice pitched to carry. “But I like it. It’s good to finally be in the same room. Are your friends here?”

“They’re dancing,” I told him, my voice faltering. Jesus, at this rate I’d end up with a sore throat from trying to talk so loud. “They want to inspect you.”

He grimaced.

“Of course they do,” he answered. “Sophie and Kimber, right?”

I nodded, impressed that he remembered their names.

“How do you know them?”

“Um, Sophie is … hmm, hard to explain,” I said, thinking about the Reapers, her weird nonrelationship with Ruger and all the reasons I hadn’t told Liam my full situation earlier. I took another sip of my drink, trying to decide what to say. Dad didn’t like me talking about the club, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that we were in one. Not really …

Fuck it. If the club was going to scare Liam off, might as well get it over with.

“You know, there’s something I’ve never told you,” I said loudly across the table.

He raised a brow.

“Is this the part where you confess you’re actually a man?” he shouted right as the music died. Heads turned and it was just like high school again. Everyone was looking at me. Liam glanced around at our audience, then winked at me. “’Cause if you are, I’m totally into that. Whoever did your boob job is a fuckin’ artist.”

I burst out laughing as the next song started.

“No,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “But there’s a reason I haven’t dated very much. My dad’s part of a motorcycle club. The local president, actually. Anyway, one of the guys in the club has a nephew, and Sophie’s the kid’s mom.”

Liam straightened, his face turning blank. I don’t know what I expected … Concern, maybe? A snide remark? Somehow the total lack of expression in his eyes was worse.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. Damn it, carrying on a conversation in this place was nearly impossible. Had I made a huge mistake? Shit. Would Liam be like all the other guys, too scared of Dad to make a move?

He shook his head.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just remembered something I forgot to do earlier. Hey, you want to get out of here?”

“Um, I’m not sure—”

“That came out wrong,” he told me, smiling again. Had I been imagining things? “I meant, do you want to go to another bar? Public place, lots of witnesses, but maybe a little quieter? I want to really talk to you and it’s kind of hard in here. There’s a place down the street I like. Owner is an old friend of mine.”

I frowned.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t want to leave Sophie and Kimber.”

“We don’t have to,” he yelled. “No worries.”

I smiled, thankful he wasn’t going to push me. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I dug it out to find a text. Several of them, actually, including one from Liam telling me he would be early. It’d come in at the same time Sophie sent the picture. Oops.

KIMBER: He hre yet? I want to check out his ass. See if its worthy … think he’ll let me touch? I think we shud make him dance with us!!!!!

I frowned.

“Everything okay?” Liam shouted. I studied his handsome, concerned face and pictured his reaction when Kimber Davis, Sexual Bloodhound, started groping him on the dance floor. I wasn’t sure what would be worse—if it bothered him or if he liked it. Either way, it would embarrass the shit out of me.

“Let’s hit the other place,” I hollered. “You’re right, it’s too loud in here.”

“Text your friends and finish your drink,” he said. “Let’s go talk for real.”

Liam’s choice surprised me.

I don’t know what I expected, but not some grotty little hole in the wall my dad would’ve loved. The sign outside said Mick’s, and the guy behind the bar looked like a giant pit bull. I’d never been here before, and for good reason.

It wasn’t the kind of place you went with your girlfriends.

The room was long and narrow, with a bar along the left wall and rows of high-backed wooden booths with battered tables down the right. Liam held my hand, gently tugging me toward the back. The place wasn’t exactly busy, mostly guys who looked rougher than your typical Saturday night club boy. A lot rougher, actually. Hell, they could’ve been Reapers. Fortunately, I grew up around tough guys and they didn’t scare me. I wouldn’t want to come in here alone, but I felt safe with Liam.

“Here we go,” he said, stopping at the last booth. I slid in, and then he sat down next to me, his long thigh pressing against mine. I could smell his scent, too. Clean and fresh, with just a hint of strong soap.

“Lots of witnesses, but privacy, too,” he added.

Sitting so close felt like being a little drunk. My hormones were all happy and I wanted to reach down and grab his leg. Instead I forced myself to make small talk.

“So how long are you in town?” I asked, appreciating the fact that I didn’t have to shout.

“Depends,” he replied, smiling at me.

“On what?”

“Whether there’s a reason to stay.”

Oh, I hoped there would be a reason. Despite how nervous he made me, Liam made Painter look like a Ken doll.

“What about work?” I asked, realizing I didn’t know what he did for a living. How had we never talked about that?

“It’s flexible,” he replied. “I guess you’d call me a freelancer. I take on jobs as needed, and it seems to balance out in the end. Have you heard back yet on that aesthetician’s program you applied to down in Portland?”

“Not yet,” I said, feeling sheepish. I’d been planning on sending my application for two weeks now but kept putting it off because I didn’t know how to tell Dad I was considering a move. “I only sent in the paperwork a few days ago. I kept losing different parts of it, and …”

My voice trailed off as he reached up to touch my cheek, running the back of his big finger across my skin. Pure fire. I couldn’t think. I didn’t want to think.

And I really, really didn’t want to talk about getting my aesthetician’s license.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he said. I nodded, and then his lips covered mine.

Fuck small talk.

The kiss started out softly. Liam threaded his fingers into my hair, tracing his tongue over my lips, parting them gently, almost worshipfully. I opened for him, my eyes falling closed as he moved in. I’d been kissed lots of times, despite Dad’s reputation for shooting my boyfriends (which was totally unfair—he’d only shot one, and he swore it was an accident). This was a whole different world of kissing.

I lost myself in Liam’s lips, drifting along on a wave of sensation that grew as I forgot the room around us. Then his fingers clutched my hair and the kiss hardened. His head slanted across mine, taking instead of asking. My nipples tightened, desperate for more. I reached down and found his thigh. It felt like solid rock. My fingers dug deep into the muscle and he groaned, hips shifting.

Seconds later, he broke free of my mouth and shoved the table across the booth floor, creating more space for us. Then he lifted me to straddle his lap.

“Liam, we can’t do this!” I hissed, eyes wide. Sure, people were pretty open around the Armory, but this was a public bar. “We’ll get thrown out.”

“Mick’s a friend,” he told me, eyes dark and intent. “Don’t worry about it.”

He leaned forward and nuzzled my breasts, which were conveniently located in front of his face. The corset served them up like a fucking buffet. Shit, were people watching us?

“Jesus, you got good tits,” he said, not sounding quite like himself. Rougher somehow. Then he slid a hand down my back and grabbed my ass, crushing me into his hips. I think my womb clenched. Or something did. If it wasn’t my womb, I had a very confused appendix. Liam grabbed my hair with his other hand and pulled me in for another kiss.

This one went straight past gentle, all hard and deep and full of desperate hunger. I shifted my hips, unconsciously rocking over the rapidly stiffening length of his cock. He responded by pushing up at me, grasping my hips. Eyes closed, I gave in to sensation. Even with all the fabric between us, my clit felt everything and was begging for more. I rocked harder, my desire for him blowing up like a match striking pavement.

Liam’s mouth tore away from me.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and I did. His eyes were dark pools of hunger, so intense my insides twisted. “Unhook the front of this corset thing you’re wearing. I want to see you.”

I shook my head, but his fingers dug into my hips, dragging me back and forth across his now-solid cock. Holy shit, that felt good.

“Do it,” he ordered. I nodded, forgetting why I’d protested.

I reached for the little hooks down the center of my corset, popping the top half of them open. My breasts spilled out. A small part of my brain screamed that anyone could see us, but when I glanced around, there was nobody. The high walls of the booth gave us total privacy and the tables across from us were empty.

Liam studied me carefully for a moment, then leaned forward and caught my left nipple with his teeth.

I shuddered, terrified that he’d bite me and that he wouldn’t, all at once.

No biting, though. Nope. He sucked it in deep, dropping his body lower on the bench. The hard edge of the table against my back didn’t make it easy, but somehow he managed to deepen my back-and-forth slide along the ridge of his erection. If it wasn’t for our pants, I’d have him inside me.

Stupid pants.

Liam groaned, then let me go abruptly. He lifted me by my hips and set me down on the bench next to him.

“Are we doing this?” he asked, his voice tight and tense.

I looked at him blankly. My clit wanted to know why we’d stopped, because she was not a happy camper about it. Neither were the girls up top. Liam took a deep, ragged breath, eyes intense.

“Are we having sex?” he asked bluntly. “Because if we aren’t, I need to go jerk off. Not trying to pressure you, Em, but it’s the fuckin’ truth.”

A wave of lust hit me hard, and I made my decision.

“Let me text my friends,” I said breathlessly. “Then we can go back to the hotel.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yeah,” I whispered. “I’m sure.”

I don’t know what I expected after that. Maybe a stately exchange of text messages with Sophie and Kimber, followed by all of us walking back to the hotel together. They’d meet him, we’d all laugh, and then when they quietly gave me a thumbs-up, I’d steal him away.

But Liam was a man of action.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the booth, all but dragging me behind him as I clutched my corset closed in shock. To my surprise, we headed toward the back of the bar instead of the front door. Brushing past a muscular guy who slapped Liam on the back, I followed him down a darkened hallway. On our right were some dubious-looking bathrooms. On the left was a door, which Liam opened, pulling me in.

HUNTER

If I’ve learned one thing in this life, it’s that lying to yourself is a waste of time.

This hadn’t stopped me from pretending tonight was all about the club, and that Em was just a means to an end. Leverage against the Reapers.

It wouldn’t be the first time I fucked a chick for the Devil’s Jacks, and God knew taking her wouldn’t keep me up nights. I’d done far worse things, and that was a fact. But Christ, Em was gorgeous and even worse, she was funny and cute and I was pretty sure she’d taken over one whole region of my brain. About a week ago, I’d convinced her to send a picture of herself in bed. To hell with porn, that shy little pic of her wearing an old T-shirt did it for me every time.

There was a part of me that had whispered she couldn’t possibly be as hot as I remembered, or as sweet as she sounded on the phone. That’s what I wanted to believe—no, needed to believe.

But I’d taken one look at her in that bar and it was all over.

Now my dick was so hard I thought it might punch through my pants. Seriously. Complete loss of thinking power. I have never wanted to fuck a woman more in my life. And yeah, I’m a douche, but I hadn’t planned to actually screw her in Mick’s office. That was before I tasted her and realized I’d die if I didn’t get inside what I was pretty damned sure was the hottest snatch I’d ever feel clamped around my cock.

I slammed the door shut behind us, the dim glow of a single lamp lighting the little room. Thank Christ there was a couch in here. A longish leather one, and while it probably wasn’t the cleanest, it wasn’t the worst place I’d screwed a girl.

Em definitely deserved better. I didn’t care.

My mouth covered hers, my hands reaching down to grab her ass, hoisting her legs up and around my waist. Her hands dug into my hair and I felt her boobs against my chest and I shit you not—I nearly came. What the hell was it about this chick? Fuck, from the moment I’d first seen her last winter, I’d been obsessed. Talking to her on the phone was just the nail in the coffin, because the worst of it was I actually liked her. Burke would laugh his ass off if he could see me now—the coldest bastard in the club was officially pussy whipped.

At least for the moment.

I should’ve dropped her and taken off running while I still could. Instead I slammed her against the door, thrusting my cock up at her as if I could penetrate her through our clothing if I just tried hard enough. She tugged up my shirt. Then her fingers dug into the muscles of my back, nails scratching me as she dragged them downward.

Lines of sharp pain followed.

Impossibly, my dick got harder. Em looked hot as hell in those tight jeans of hers, but she needed to get them the fuck off before I stroked out. I’d do her hard and fast this first time—no way I could hold out. Fortunately, she was just as worked up as me, so odds were good she’d go off like a firecracker. Then I had every intention of dragging her back to the hotel and showing her just how many different ways I could make her come.

First I needed to free up some of that blood pooled in my lower body for my brain, though. Right now I couldn’t even remember how to breathe. I carried her over to the couch, dropping her down, and then covered her, our hips rubbing together in the hottest dry hump in history.

Jesus.

I really was gonna come in my pants.

I kissed her one last time, tasting how hot and sweet her mouth was, then forced myself to pull away.

“Never wanted to be inside anyone half as much as you, Em,” I told her, the words rough. Her blue eyes opened wide and her breath caught. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink and I wanted to wrap her up and carry her off like a caveman or something. I rolled to the side, digging in my pocket for a condom.

“Jeans off, baby,” I added. “I can’t wait any longer.”

“I have to tell you something.”

I found the condom and reached for my fly, only half following her words. Goddamn she was hot … Boobs popped out, nipples flushed, eyes bright with excitement.

“No,” she said. “Seriously, I need to tell you something.”

“What?” I asked, wondering what the hell could be higher priority than getting naked. Then it hit me—she was a girl, she needed reassurance. Damned if I knew why, but they all did. “Hey, I didn’t just bring you here to screw you, babe. You mean something to me, I swear. But I can’t think right now. Can we talk later?”

She looked away and I started to get a sinking feeling. Shit. Something was really wrong. I don’t know what bothered me more, the idea of blowing my mission or not blowing my wad.

No contest—to hell with the mission. This was about her cunt squeezing my cock.

“I haven’t done this before,” she said without meeting my eye.

“Fucked on the first date?” I asked her. “This isn’t like that, babe. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m not—”

“Jesus, will you just shut up and listen to me?” she snapped, sitting up and swinging her legs off the couch. “Why does everyone in my life need to be so damn bossy?”

I stared at her, dick throbbing, confused as hell.

“I haven’t had sex before,” she said abruptly. “And I really like you and I totally want to do this, but I don’t want to do it on a dirty couch in a bar. Can you understand that?”

Now that caught my attention.

“The fuck? What do you mean, you haven’t had sex?”

“I mean I’ve Never. Had. Sex,” she told me, spacing out her words carefully. “True story. You got a problem with that? Because you’re looking at me like I’ve got herpes and that’s not working for me.”

I stilled, trying to wrap my brain around what she’d said. It was hard, given the lack of circulation. Then it sank in.

Shit. Em was mine. All mine. No other asshole had been inside that pretty little cunt—this was fuckin’ beautiful. I smiled slowly, running a hand through my hair.

“That kicks ass, babe,” I said, sinking down to sit next to her.

“It does?” she asked, her voice small. I pulled her over and onto my lap, running my hands up and down her body. God, she was just tiny. A perfect little package I wanted to lick all over and then take home and hide away from the world.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling something like triumph start to build inside me. I wasn’t going to share her—not now, not ever. This body was mine. All mine. Best present ever. Fuck if I knew what I’d done to deserve it, but not a chance in hell I’d let her get away.

“I am gonna have so much fun teaching you everything I know,” I said, kissing the side of her neck. Shit, she smelled good. My cock wanted inside her now, but somehow my brain had reengaged, and I was not going to fuck this up. If I played things right, she’d fall for me so hard she’d never know what hit her. And I wanted that. I wanted it a lot. Win for me, win for the Jacks, too. Perfect.

Em gave a little laugh.

“You kind of scared me there,” she whispered, and damned if she didn’t blush a little. So cute. “I mean, it’s silly, but things were just moving so fast. It’s never been like this for me before.”

“Well, we’ve got some great fuckin’ chemistry,” I told her. “Damned good thing you spoke up when you did. I promise, I’ll make this good for you, babe. Wanna head back to the hotel, or do you need some time first?”

She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a soft smile.

“Hotel,” she said. “Let’s take it slower, though. Okay?”

“No prob.”

Silence fell between us as I leaned into her for a soft kiss, tugging at her lower lip. Then a loud knock on the door broke the moment.

“Go away,” I yelled.

“Need to talk,” Skid said on the other side of the door. “Important, bro. Get out here.”

Em frowned up at me.

“I didn’t realize you were here with someone,” she said.

“Didn’t feel like sharing you,” I told her, offering a quick grin. My mind had already gone cold and hard, though, switching modes instantly. Skid wasn’t an idiot and he didn’t fuck around. He wouldn’t interrupt if it weren’t important.

“Give me five,” I told her, settling her on the couch. Sadly, she started hooking up her corset, covering those gorgeous tits. I walked to the door and stepped out.

One look at Skid’s face and I knew I was screwed.

“Make it good, asshole.”

“We got a situation,” he told me. “Kelsey called from our place in Portland. Said some crazy-ass motherfucker burst into the house and started shooting. Grass is down, shot in the chest. Not sure he’s gonna make it. Shooter managed to grab Clutch and took off with him. Guess there were some girls who saw the whole thing and now they’re talkin’ to the cops. Kels was upstairs in your room, came running down with a gun too late. She couldn’t do a goddamned thing but watch when he threw Clutch in an SUV and took off.”

I felt the world narrow to a pinpoint, my mind running through a thousand calculations. “She get a decent look at the guy?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, his eyes growing colder. “Gave her a message, actually. Told her to let us know the truce with the Reapers is dead, and Clutch will be, too. Payback for Gracie.”

“We got a name?”

“Called himself Toke.”

“I’ll call Burke.”

“Jesus.”

“Em, I need to make a quick phone call,” I said, ducking my head back into the office. I smiled at her softly, pretending to be human. Harder to pull off every year. “You okay in here for a minute?”

She looked up at me, her face all innocent and trusting, and I savored the sight. I had a pretty good feeling that I’d never see her like that again. Not after tonight.

“Everything all right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, lying easily. “Just a little misunderstanding back home. I’ll get it taken care of and get back to you.”

I started to close the door.

“Hey,” she said, giving me another soft look. “I like you, Liam Blake.”

“I like you, Emmy Hayes,” I replied, wishing things were different.

Don’t know why I bothered.

Shit happens. Fuckin’ weak and stupid to let yourself care.

I went back out into the hallway and called Burke to get my orders.

Chapter Three

EM

Liam stepped out of the room and I shivered, so excited I could hardly exist. This was better than I’d hoped. He was better than I’d hoped. So incredibly cute, he made me feel amazing, and best of all? He didn’t seem particularly interested in talking about my father.

That last one was a biggie.

I pulled out my phone—I wanted to get back to the room, but I’d promised I wouldn’t go alone. I pulled up Sophie’s number, my fingers fumbling, although I couldn’t decide if it was from the drinks or the excitement.

ME: I want to go back to the hotel. He’s defintely THE ONE

SOPHIE: Dont u dare! We have to chck him out frist. Ur NOT follwing the plan

ME: Yu’ll meet him in a minut come down to Mick’s and we can head from there. We’ll wait outside.

I slid my phone into my pocket, then hugged myself, rubbing my arms up and down quickly. I still couldn’t quite believe all this was happening. I’d met Liam and he was fantastic. Sexy. Beautiful. Even sweet …

More important than that, though—he had an edge. An edge like the guys I’d grown up with, and that was critical. Ultimately, I couldn’t be with someone who couldn’t handle my MC family. Liam could, I was almost certain of it.

Not that I was stupid—I knew it might not turn into anything.

But it might. Tonight I’d finally get to see for myself what all the fuss was about. Funny, but Painter had actually done me a favor in the end. If he’d gone for it, I might be with him right now instead of Liam. And while I hadn’t known Liam all that long, I felt a connection with him that I’d never felt for Painter.

Painter was a fantasy, a dream about what could be. Had I ever even had a real conversation with him? I couldn’t remember anything that went past casual. But Liam was real. Liam wanted me as much as I wanted him, and while there was no question things were physically intense between us, I knew there was more to it than that. We’d connected from hundreds of miles apart. I could tell him anything and he made me laugh, and the fact that he was hot as hell was just the icing on the cake.

I had a feeling I’d have fallen for Liam if he’d been shorter than me with a gut and a hairy back.

That was a theory I’d have to go without testing, poor me. Liam in person was sexier than I’d ever imagined, and I had a very good imagination. The office door opened and he stepped back in, giving me a burning, intense look that made me wet.

“You’re beautiful, Em,” he said. “One more kiss, okay?”

Yeah, wasn’t gonna argue with that.

He pulled me into his arms and his lips covered mine, tongue sliding deep inside. He was almost brutal in his intensity, burying himself in my mouth.

Then he broke loose.

“Let’s go.”

“I need to wait for my friends,” I said. “I texted them while you were making your call. We’re supposed to meet them out front.”

“Kimber and Sophie, right?” he asked. “How well do you know them?”

“Um, not that well, actually,” I said. “Sophie is sort of weirdly involved with Ruger. It’s complicated. Kimber’s her friend. They’re really nice, and lots of fun. But I don’t think either of them really counts as available, if you’re thinking of the guy who came with you?”

He shook his head.

“No worries,” he said. “Hey, while we wait do you mind running out to my van with me? I want to grab a bag. Toothbrush, that kind of shit.”

I felt my cheeks heat up. He needed that stuff because we were spending the night together. Me. Spending the night with him. Damn. Why couldn’t I be all cool instead of dorky?

“Sure,” I told him. “We have a couple minutes.”

Liam took my hand and walked me down the back hall.

“There’s parking out back?” I asked.

“Employees only,” he told me. “Mick doesn’t mind, though. We go way back.”

He opened the back door, popping out the deadbolt so the door couldn’t fully close behind us. Then he tugged me toward a black cargo van.

His friend stepped out from behind it. I smiled at him, then looked at Liam, expecting him to introduce us.

He didn’t.

The other man moved toward me, his face grim. This wasn’t right. Not right at all. Deep inside my head an alarm bell blared, complete with flashing red lights. As long as I could remember, my parents had taught me to trust my instincts, and every instinct I had told me to get the hell out of here.

Liam was up to something. Fuck. Too good to be true. Just my luck.

How to do it? The door behind us was still open, but I wasn’t sure anyone in that particular bar would help me, even if I made it inside. I glanced down the alley—we were midway through the block and loud music filled the air from a nightclub next door. Screaming would be useless.

I had to get out of this narrow passage and find some witnesses.

I pretended to stumble, then knelt down as if I were fixing my shoe. Instead I undid the straps so I could step out of them when I took off. At least the alley was paved … Maybe I wouldn’t cut up my feet too bad? I was gonna look like a real dumbass if this was nothing.

Pisser.

“You okay?” Liam asked. I looked up at him and smiled sweetly.

“I’m fine—just need to fix my strap,” I told him. Then I took a deep breath, rising slightly into a runner’s start, and took off down the alley, my gorgeous fuck-me pumps left behind. I sprinted toward the street, hearing their surprised shouts. Vaguely I heard Liam yell at me to stop. If there wasn’t anything hinky going on, I’d look like a crazy woman.

But you know what?

Something wasn’t right about the situation. I knew it in my bones, and Dad had pounded it into my head—listen to your gut. He said it’d saved his life more than once. Good enough for me. I heard feet pounding behind me, but I was getting close to the end of the alleyway. I saw people up ahead, walking past. It was noisy outside, between traffic and the loud music. Would they hear me?

I’d just opened my mouth to scream when he tackled me from behind. The ground came toward me and I had a fraction of a second to wonder just how bad the hit would hurt. Then my body twisted and flew up. Somehow I was on my back, on top of Liam, his strong arms wrapping around me like shackles.

His friend caught up to us and pointed what looked like a gun.

I gasped for breath, eyes wide.

Yup.

That was definitely a gun.

At least he didn’t have a clear shot with me on top of Liam.

I tried to scream again and a big hand clamped around my mouth. Then I tried biting Liam and used every bit of leverage I could to kick down at him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much.

“Shut the fuck up and stop fighting,” he growled in my ear. “If you do what you’re told, you won’t get hurt.”

I didn’t bother listening. I just kept kicking and biting as his arms slowly tightened around me, making it harder to breathe.

Then his fingers pinched off my nose and I froze.

“You want to stay awake, princess, you’ll stop fighting. Nod your head if you understand.”

I was so fucking pissed off. I wanted to kill him, but I’d started seeing spots and I knew I wouldn’t hold out much longer. What the hell would they do to me if I lost consciousness? Nothing good.

I nodded.

Liam let my nose go and I sucked in air, the darkness fading away.

“Now I’m gonna get up and we’re going over to the van,” he said. “I don’t have time to argue with you, so if you want to stay awake, you do what I say.”

I nodded again.

He sat up, taking me with him.

“Get your ass moving,” his friend said, eyes dark and full of something like hate. Not good … “Walk over to the van and keep your fucking mouth shut. Hunter might not want you hurt, but I could give a shit—got me?”

I could tell he meant it, so I stood slowly and walked toward the van, considering the implications of his friend calling Liam “Hunter.” None of them were good. I tried to stall as long as I could, but it was pointless. Nobody saw us. Nothing.

I stopped next to the van.

“Arms up and on the sides,” Liam said, his voice cold. Completely unlike the man I thought I’d known. Christ, I sucked at reading men. First Painter and now this bullshit? I assumed the position, choking back a little laugh. I’d seen this on TV a thousand times. What a fucking cliche. Pathetic.

I heard the back of the van open, then hard hands ran over my body. Liam’s hands. I smelled him behind as he thrust his knee between my legs, separating them. He frisked me so thoroughly that for one horrible moment I wondered if he was an undercover cop.

Then his hand stopped on my boob and his breath caught.

Shit. If Liam was a cop, he was definitely a dirty one. That was good news—dirty cops could be bribed. He pushed into me, and I felt the length of his erect cock dig into my ass as he whispered in my ear.

“Sorry, babe. This wasn’t the plan.”

“Fuck you.”

He sighed.

Then he stepped back, taking my hands and pulling them behind my back. Cold metal clicked around my wrists. Suddenly a strip of fabric came down around my face.

“Open your mouth,” Liam told me. I shook my head. He pushed forward into me again, and his dick felt even bigger and harder now. Holy shit, this was turning him on.

Kidnapping girls turns him on.

Fuck. FUCK.

“Open. Your. Mouth,” he said again, and this time the menace in his voice was unmistakable. His prick nudged me again, and then his hips, shifting, sliding it slowly up the crack of my ass. I felt a whole new level of fear.

Who is this man?

I opened my mouth and the fabric slid inside. He tied it tight around my head, then reached a hand around to my front, pulling me back and into him. My cuffed hands bumped his stomach, my ass cradling his erection.

“What about her friends?” I heard the other guy ask. “Any value there?”

“One’s connected to the club,” Liam said, his breath warm against my ear. “Same bitch we saw in Seattle with the kid. Not sure how official it is, but Ruger’s got something goin’ on with her. The other one’s just deadweight.”

I shivered, hoping to hell Kimber and Sophie didn’t come looking for me. Oh God. I’d never forgive myself if I dragged them into this … whatever the fuck “this” was.

His hand on my waist lowered, finding the sliver of bare flesh between the bottom of my corset and the top of my jeans. Then his hand dipped into my pocket, lingering with indecent hesitation before pulling out my phone. Liam stepped back. I saw the glow of the screen reflected in the van’s darkened window as he called up my message history.

“She told them to meet her out front,” he told his friend. “Go inside. Let’s give it ten minutes, see if they come looking for her. Might give us an advantage if we can grab one.”

“Got it.”

I heard the slam of the bar door closing as Liam’s accomplice went back in. Strong hands grasped my upper arms, turning me to face him. I stared up into his darkened face with wide eyes, hoping I didn’t look as scared and helpless as I felt. He lifted a hand, sliding his fingers into my hair and tightening them.

Liam’s other hand found my waist, inching up toward my breast. I thought he’d touch me there, but at the last minute he pulled away until only his fingertips grazed me. He traced upward between my breasts, then caught my chin and tilted my face toward him.

“I think you might be even prettier tied up,” he whispered. “Christ, I want to fuck you.”

He lowered his head, running his nose along my cheek, scenting me. I shuddered, and not just from fear. Even now—after it was so clear he’d been lying to me all along, although about what I couldn’t be certain—I wanted him.

Liam made a strangled noise, then pulled back and jerked my upper arm, dragging me around to the open back of the van. He pushed me in, face forward. I fell, bracing myself to hit hard, but at the last second he caught me, lowering me to the floor on my side.

Then he grabbed my feet and pulled them together. His hands lingered on my ankles, then one slid upward along the back of my thigh. He found the curve of my ass, tracing the line where it met my upper thigh until his fingers cradled my butt cheek. His thumb dipped down between my legs ever so slightly … Then he squeezed my flesh hard, almost spasmodically, and I squeaked in surprised pain.

“Sorry,” he murmured, rubbing the hurt before returning to business.

I felt rope wrapping tight around my ankles, then Liam leaned forward over me. I glared at him, putting everything I had into sending him the message that I’d be killing him just as soon as I got the chance.

His face was serious and strangely blank, but he reached out and tugged my hair out of my face.

“Fuckin’ shame,” he said, his voice almost thoughtful. “I doubt you’ll believe me, but I’m really sorry about this.”

I raised my eyebrows, making it clear he was right—I didn’t believe a word he said. Liam sighed, then closed the van doors.

Huh. Shitty, shitty first date.

I lay in the dark for what felt like forever, waiting for something to happen. Ideally, this would include the entire Reapers nation bursting through the van doors, but I was mostly just hoping Sophie and Kimber wouldn’t get dragged into my shit.

A few minutes later I heard a scuffle and then the back opened again. Sophie flew in, hitting the floor. Liam climbed in after her, cuffing her, gagging her, and tying her up just like me. I stared at her terrified face, torn between guilt that I’d gotten her into this and determination to kill Liam myself. Preferably with my bare hands.

After castrating him.

I heard his friend climb into the front and gun the engine.

“Sorry, girls,” Liam said. “Hopefully this won’t get too ugly and you’ll get to go home soon.”

Oh, it would definitely be getting ugly. I promised him that with my eyes.

He ignored me, moving forward to join his friend as the van took off. We didn’t drive far, though. After a few minutes they pulled off the road and came to a stop. Then they stepped out and walked around to the back. Liam’s friend reached in and grabbed Sophie, sitting her up. He dug into her purse, pulling out her phone.

His sleeve rode up as he did it, and my heart stopped.

There was a fucking Devil’s Jacks tattoo on his arm.

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

This was much worse than I ever imagined. I’d spent my whole life hating the Devil’s Jacks. They’d been fighting with the Reapers for twenty years in one way or another. I saw things in a sudden, bright, horribly clear light.

Liam, slowly becoming my friend.

Liam, asking me about my day, talking to me about anything and everything. Liam, always willing to hear me out and encouraging me to share with him.

My good “friend” Liam was a fucking stalker.

A stalker who’d used me to learn about my club, and now he obviously planned to use me against my father. Acid filled my stomach, and for one wretched instant I thought I might vomit and choke myself, because this was the worst thing I could imagine doing.

I’d betrayed my club.

Not knowingly, but that hardly mattered. There would be fresh bodies because of this. Those deaths would be on me and my stupid, impulsive decision to let Liam into my life.

Liam tugged me down and picked me up, carrying me around to the front of the van. He leaned me up against the hood like a spare fence post. I balanced unsteadily, forcing myself to stop glaring at him long enough to look around. We were down by the river, probably near the park somewhere. Above us was one of the high bridges going over the falls, and I realized that if he decided to pitch me over the fence I’d fall a good ten stories before I either smashed on the rocks or drowned.

Would he do it?

Of course he would do it—he was a fucking Devil’s Jack—but only if he was done using me.

Shit.

“Em, look at me,” he said. I glanced at his face to find cold, dead eyes studying me. The eyes of a sociopath.

How could I have been so fucking stupid?

“We’re calling your dad,” he said. “I’ll let you talk to him so you can give him this message. You’ll tell him that you’re with Hunter, the Devil’s Jack he met in Portland. Let him know that we have you and your friend Sophie. Then you’ll tell him that we’ll kill you if he doesn’t do exactly what we say. Got it?”

I nodded. I felt tears start to build in my eyes, but I’d be damned if I’d show him even a hint of weakness. I refused to blink as he pulled out my phone and scrolled through the contacts.

Liam reached up and tugged out my gag, then held the phone to my head. It rang twice.

“Hey, baby, what’s up?” I heard my dad ask.

“Daddy, I’m in some trouble,” I said quietly.

“Talk to me,” he replied, immediately all business.

“I’m here in Spokane with a Devil’s Jack named Hunter,” I said, focusing all my emotions into one horrible, hate-filled glare at Liam. Too bad I didn’t have lasers in my eyes. I was pretty sure I could’ve cut him in half with that look. “He said to tell you that he has me and Sophie. He’s going to kill us if you don’t do what he says. He’s also a giant fucking pussy, and I think when you catch him, you should let me cut out his balls with a dull spoon before shooting him in the head.”

Liam—Hunter? whoever the hell he was—grinned at me, then pulled away the phone as Dad started shouting. He tugged the gag back up and stuffed it into my mouth, then stepped toward the cliff’s edge, talking softly just out of earshot.

I wobbled, wondering if there was any point in trying to hop away.

Not really.

Hunter spoke for a moment longer, then turned off the phone and casually pitched it over the fence and into the falls.

He turned back and gave me an evil smile.

“Your daddy’s pretty fond of you, Em,” he said. “Things are going to work out just fine.”

Not for him, they wouldn’t.

The van drove forever, and I lost all sense of time as we jolted around in the back. Hunter and Skid—apparently that was the other asshole’s name—spoke quietly, making the occasional vague phone call in what had to be some sort of unholy Devil’s Jacks kidnapping code.

I couldn’t communicate with Sophie, but I did everything in my power to send her a message with my eyes. You’re not alone, our men will rescue us. I’m so damned sorry I brought this down on you. Something along those lines.

Not sure it sank in.

She was probably thinking about her little boy, Noah, and wondering if she’d ever see him again.

It was a good question. Wish I knew the answer.

The van finally stopped and they dragged us out. We were in front of a house, an older one. Two stories, big porch, and apparently in the middle of nowhere. There were sparse trees off in the distance and gentle hills that kept me from seeing any other houses.

Great.

Hunter carried me into the living room and set me down on the couch gently. Skid dropped Sophie down next to me, and she struggled to sit up.

“Here’s the situation,” Hunter said. “You’re here as leverage. One of the Reapers down in Portland—Toke—made a real bad call tonight. He went to our house and started shooting, no warning, no provocation.”

Fuck, I thought, eyes going wide. Toke was definitely a Reaper, but he’d been in the wind for the past week. I felt a burning pain in my side, where the wound he’d given me the weekend before was still healing. He’d cut me with a fucking knife in the middle of a party. Allegedly it was an accident, but Dad wasn’t amused. He’d taken off after him shooting.

Now Toke had found a new way to cause damage. Asshole.

“He took a hostage when he left. One of our brothers is down and a second is probably getting tortured to death right now, so you’ll have to excuse us for being a little abrupt about this whole thing. Your daddy”—he nodded at me—“is gonna do what it takes to get our guy back for us. That happens, you go home.”

I studied Liam, torn between hurt that he’d betrayed me and unspeakable rage toward Toke. I didn’t know the details of what had gone down between him and the club. Last weekend there’d been a big meeting, but I didn’t have anything to do with that. Not like I was privy to club business—that was a boys’ game. But I wasn’t stupid, either, and I’d been born a Reaper.

Something had gone very wrong in that meeting for things to get this far out of balance.

I really did want to shoot Toke, I decided. I also wanted to shoot Liam. No, his name is Hunter, I reminded myself. His name is Hunter and you don’t know him at all.

“You’re dead, Liam,” I told him, emphasizing the fake name, making it clear I was onto his shit. He didn’t respond. “My dad is going to put you in the ground. Let us go now and I’ll try to talk him out of it. Otherwise it’ll be too late. I’m serious. He. Will. Kill. You.”

This was the simple truth.

“Sorry, babe,” he said, and his voice sounded so sincere, so much like the man I’d thought I’d known … It cut through me in a way Toke’s knife never could. “I get that you’re scared and pissed, but I’m not going to let a brother die just because some Reaper had a tantrum.”

Don’t talk about my club that way, I wanted to growl at him. Goddamned men. Why did their bullshit always have to spill over on me? I narrowed my eyes at him, willing every bit of angry hatred I felt into my words.

“Fuck you.”

Hunter (I decided not to call him Liam anymore—Liam was a nice name for a nice guy, and it didn’t fit this bastard at all) glanced at his friend, then rubbed a hand over his face. For a minute he looked tired.

Jackass.

I was going to laugh at his funeral.

“Okay, let’s go upstairs,” Hunter announced. He glanced over at poor Sophie, who had gone pale. My anger faded a little, replaced by guilt. I needed to stop worrying about my hurt feelings and start planning our escape. If we had to wait for Dad to find Toke, we might find ourselves dead in a ditch.

Not that I really thought Hunter would kill me … Despite the evidence to the contrary, I just couldn’t fathom him truly hurting me. Denial? Probably. Skid was another story. There was something evil in his eyes.

Hunter pulled out a Leatherman and knelt down at my feet. I considered kicking him in the chin but decided that wouldn’t do me much good strategically. Pity. Then he cut the rope. Skid pulled out a pistol and cocked it loudly.

“You cause trouble, I’ll shoot you,” he said, and I realized I’d succeeded in conveying my homicidal intentions clearly. Yay me! “Hunter’s nice. I’m not.”

Strangely enough his words helped me focus—I’d let myself get worked up over my hurt pride, but I couldn’t let anger take over my brain. I couldn’t afford to do something stupid. Sophie might be a sweetheart, but she wasn’t a Reaper and she had no idea what we were up against. I’d have to be the one to get us out of this.

Sobering thought.

Hunter grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. Then he tugged me up a flight of stairs off to the side of the living room. Behind us I heard Skid and Sophie following. Hunter opened a door on the right and pulled me in, kicking it shut behind us. I looked around. It was a bedroom.

With a bed.

Suddenly the situation took on a new set of implications I hadn’t considered before. Liam’s whole persona might’ve been a great, big, fat fake, but he hadn’t been faking one thing. I’d definitely felt his dick poking my ass earlier. Either he wore a hell of a prosthetic at all times, or he actually wanted to fuck me. Now he had a nice, comfy bed to do it on.

Shit.

His hands grasped mine, and I heard the click of the lock turning on the cuffs. I wasn’t free, though—he held my wrists tight as he pushed me across the room. I refused to move my feet, stalling. He leaned down, speaking softly in my ear.

“Get on the fucking bed, Em.”

Warmth bathed my ear and I could smell him all around. Because there’s something wrong with me, that turned me on.

“That sounds like a bad idea,” I said, trying not to sound nervous. I needed to get on the offense, take some control of the situation. “Let’s talk about this.”

“Talk away,” he muttered, bringing my hands around to the front of my body. He stepped forward, taking both of them in one big hand. I felt his heat behind me, his large body dwarfing and surrounding mine.

I also felt his cock again.

No fucking way I could miss that giant thing digging into my lower back. Double shit. I needed a diversion.

“I don’t think you realize what’s happening,” I said quickly. “I know you want to find Toke. I get that—if someone attacked one of our club brothers, I’d be after him, too. But Toke stabbed me last weekend—”

Hunter froze, then I was moving through the air, lifted straight up against his chest as he carried me. He pushed me down, rolled me to my back, and straddled me all in one smooth move, pinning my arms up and over my head.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded.

“Explain how he hurt you,” he said, his voice grim and his eyes cold. “Now.”

I closed my eyes, trying to think.

Oh, I was at this party with all my friends and family, and then this guy I’m supposed to be able to trust got pissy for some reason (that I’m not allowed to know) and he cut me with a big, giant knife. Then my dad tried to shoot him, I got a few stitches, and now we’re all pretending it never happened.

Nope, nothing weird about that.

I’d planned to tell him it was an accident if we got far enough for him to find the bandage hiding under my top. Seemed believable enough to me, seeing as most people don’t go running around with random knife wounds. Not like it was particularly bad. Sure, it hurt a bit if I pulled at it, but it wasn’t exactly deep.

I took a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to handle this. Toke definitely wasn’t my favorite person right now, but he was still a Reaper and this was our private business. I couldn’t give Hunter anything to use against the club. On other hand, I needed to keep him on my side, what with the not-wanting-to-end-up-dead-in-a-ditch issue.

“It was an accident,” I said slowly, which was sort of true. I was pretty sure Toke had no intention of cutting me, personally, when he’d unsheathed his knife. “We were just fucking around at a party last weekend—”

“Fucking around?” he asked, eyes growing colder, which really shouldn’t have been possible, yet he still managed to pull it off. “What’s the story between you and Toke?”

“Nothing. Shit, nothing, okay? Although why the hell you would care I can’t imagine.”

“You have no idea what I care about.”

“And I could give a shit,” I muttered. “Do you want to hear the details or not?”

“Tell me the fucking details.”

“We were at a party,” I started again. “It wasn’t that late or that crazy, although it was moving in that direction. I went to find my dad and say good night because Sophie and I were heading out. I was walking past a group of guys and then suddenly someone fell against me and his knife caught my rib cage. No big deal.”

Hunter dropped his hands to my sides, running his fingers lightly across the corset, searching for the wound. I gritted my teeth when he found it, refusing to acknowledge the twinge of pain. Something must’ve given it away, because he growled.

Growled.

Like a pissed-off wolf. No, like a whiny dog, I told myself firmly. One of those little yappy ones. Wolves kicked ass and Hunter didn’t. He was a giant, fake asshole.

Then his hands went to the front of the corset and started fumbling with the hooks. This was not okay. I grabbed his wrists, trying to jerk him away, but he ignored me completely. Seriously. He was so much stronger than me that I wasn’t sure he even noticed my protests.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I need to see it,” he said. “You should’ve said something earlier. I could’ve hurt you in the bar. Why the hell didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

My jaw dropped.

“It’s none of your fucking business,” I burst out. “None of it is. And don’t try telling me you care whether or not I’m hurt.”

My breasts popped free as the corset opened. I tried to cover myself, hating the sudden, horrible feeling of vulnerability.

“You are my business,” he told me, his voice grim. He didn’t pause to perv, either. Nope, his touch was impersonal—almost clinical—as he felt around the fresh, white bandage I’d put over it earlier.

“It’s not that big,” he said, looking almost surprised.

“No shit. I told you it wasn’t a big deal. About three inches long, and not even half an inch deep.”

“They take you to the hospital?”

“They took care of me,” I snapped. “They always take care of me. That’s why—if you want to live—you need to let me go and get yourself the hell out of town.”

He laughed, sounding almost like the old Liam, and then he turned his attention toward my breasts. I slapped my hands over them, but he caught my wrists and dragged them high over my head again. I struggled but it was pointless. His strength was effortless, and while he might not be bulky with muscles, his lean body was like steel.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he said, the words low and rough. I couldn’t quite tell if he was talking to me or himself. It hit me right between my legs, though, and I felt like an idiot because not even learning he’d played me was enough to kill my desire. He leaned down, lowering his body over mine, one knee nudging roughly between my legs. I stiffened, refusing to give, and I think I could’ve pulled it off if he’d done something obvious like grope at my breasts.

Instead he dropped his head and ran his nose along the line of my collarbone upward, tickling my neck. It was such a light touch, so faint I’d have questioned whether I was imagining it if I couldn’t see him so clearly. He took in deep breaths, sighing against my ear.

“And I thought shit was fucked up before,” he whispered. “Em, I know you won’t believe this, but I didn’t plan this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Then don’t. Let me go before things get worse.”

He shook his head slowly, lips brushing my cheek as he did it.

“I can’t, sweet girl,” he replied, and if I didn’t know he was a soulless bastard, I would’ve called that regret in his voice. “My brother’s life is at stake.”

My breath caught and for a second I thought I might cry. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want anyone in my family dead.

And I didn’t want my Liam dead, either. Intellectually I knew “my Liam” had never existed, but I could feel him and smell him all around me. My body refused to believe he’d betrayed us.

Fuck.

“Toke doesn’t care about me, so it’s not like he’s going to turn himself in to save a couple of women,” I said carefully. “And the rest of the Reapers can’t make it happen. I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know this—if my dad could find Toke, he’d be dead already. Club business aside, my father would not let a man who hurt me live. Period. Kidnapping us isn’t going to get your brother back any faster.”

Hunter kissed me, catching my mouth and sliding his tongue deep inside. Need exploded through me, curling up from my pelvis through my body like fire, and the world slowed as his hips nestled between mine, spreading me open beneath him. His big, rough hand caught my breast, his callused thumb sliding back and forth across my nipple as the kiss deepened.

Oh shit …

I’d love to say I fought valiantly to preserve my virtue, but that just wasn’t an option. I don’t even have the words to describe how much I’d wanted him earlier that night, but that was nothing compared to this. I was pumped full of adrenaline and anger and fear and so many emotions.

In an instant they all turned to lust.

My hips cradled his as he started slowly rocking into me, our jeans a barrier I suddenly hated. His thumb and tongue played me in time as a slow burn built deep inside. This was different than it’d been at the bar, darker somehow.

Probably because back then I’d had hope.

Now every rock of my hips was a betrayal of my club, my family, the father who’d given everything to take care of me through the years. But I was empty, and the growing ridge of Hunter’s erection would fill me perfectly—I knew it as surely as I knew he wasn’t real.

He started moving faster, pulling his mouth away from mine and dropping his head down into my neck. He’d let my hands free somewhere along the way, which I discovered when I brought them around his back, tugging at his shirt. Not that I was undressing him, at least not consciously.

I just needed to feel his bare skin under my fingers.

Each movement of his hips scraped the long, strong length of his jeans-clad dick along my core, the rough fabric causing just the right amount of friction mixed with delicious pain. His shirt rubbed at my nipples and I found myself wishing he’d tug and play with them.

Then he gave a long, low groan and things changed.

Before he’d been almost tasting me, and whatever had been between us was almost painful in its restrained intensity. Now the wildness I’d felt from him at the bar, the darkness from the alley, they all came back. His muscles grew tight and his body stiffened. Then his hands came down on either side of my head as he pulled up abruptly.

Now Liam—no, Hunter—looked down at me, his eyes still full of that horrible tension I’d seen when I’d told him about Toke. His gaze burned into my face as his hips pinned me down into the mattress. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his waist, finding a better angle as he started pumping against my jeans-clad opening.

I think that’s when it hit me—I didn’t even need to take off my pants.

I was going to come, right here, right now, just from the feel of his cock rubbing me through the fabric, and I gave a little gasping moan of something between horror and incredible, terrible need.

“Please,” I whispered as my leg muscles quivered. “Oh, shit …”

Hunter bared his teeth at me in what I suppose could be called a smile. But he wasn’t smiling. He looked like he wanted to eat me and I felt fear because I knew I’d let him. I’d do anything, so long as he didn’t stop moving until it ended and I shattered apart.

“Em,” he said, and my name came ragged off his lips. “Em, baby. C’mon, Em. Now.”

His hips pressed me deep into the bed then, rotating with rough efficiency. The stimulation was so intense it hurt. But the hurt wasn’t a bad thing. Something about it, the way his eyes burned into mine, the way I couldn’t have fought him off if I tried … my utter helplessness.

Fuck.

I loved it.

I felt my back arch as his hips crushed mine, and then my world exploded and I screamed. It wasn’t a pretty, sexy scream, either. It was full of all the rage and anger and hurt and incredible fucking need I felt for him as it burst out of me.

Seconds later his body shuddered and he shouted, punching the mattress right next to my head. Then he collapsed on top of me, panting.

Unreal.

That’s when it all hit me and I started laughing.

I’d just had incredible, indescribable sex with the hottest guy I’d ever met—and I was still a fucking virgin.

Jesus. Just like high school.

I couldn’t give this shit away.

Chapter Four

HUNTER

I flopped down next to Em, trying to make my brain work again.

I’d come in my pants like a fucking kid.

Yeah. If the brothers saw this, they’d crucify me.

“You’re gonna kill me,” I muttered, reaching over to tuck a strand of her hair behind one of those perfect little ears. Her crystal-blue eyes looked up at me, dazed, and not entirely homicidal. Damn, I liked that way too much.

Damn, she was pretty. Smelled good, too.

“No, it’s Dad who’ll kill you,” she said quietly. Thoughtfully. Great, because thinking wasn’t going to make this any better on her end. “Liam—wait, what the hell is your name, anyway?”

“It’s Liam. Hunter is my road name.”

A shadow crossed her face.

“Are you really one of them?”

I didn’t pretend not to understand.

“Yeah, I’m a Devil’s Jack. Nomad. Been my job to keep tabs on you and your sister for a while. Among other things.”

“Why?” she asked, her face genuinely confused. “We’re not important.”

I laughed, wondering how she could be so impossibly naive.

“You’re pretty fuckin’ important, babe,” I told her. “That club loves you, even more than your sister because you stayed in Coeur d’Alene. Half the guys consider you their daughter and the other half want to bang you. All of ’em are scared of your dad. Still can’t quite figure out why he’s not national president. When Atlas retired last year, we figured he’d step up for sure.”

“He’s not interested,” she said absently. Then she leaned up on one arm, studying me. I kept my eyes on her face, because clearly she’d forgotten that corset thing was wide open and showing off her tits. Not my place to remind her … Fortunately, her puffy lips provided a nice distraction. I kept picturing them wrapped around my cock. “Tell me the truth, Liam. Was there ever anything real between us?”

I should tell her it was all real. Tell her it was love at first sight, that we were Romeo and Juliet and I’d defy my club to be her one and only.

But for once I was just fucking sick and tired of lying.

“I have no idea what’s between us,” I said, not even sure that was true. The first time I’d seen Em, it’d felt like a gut punch. I’d wanted to nail her on the spot. That hadn’t changed, but now that I had her laid out on a bed, for some reason making her feel better was more important than sticking my dick in her. Go figure.

“Not sure I know what real is,” I said. “But I don’t believe in love, babe. I believe in gettin’ laid.”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

I shrugged, feeling almost philosophical about the situation. There’s a certain freedom in being totally screwed—and that was definitely what this was shaping up to be. Clusterfuck all around.

“Well, I do know I’ve got come all over my pants, and that’s not something that happens every day,” I told her. “You’re fucking hot, babe. No matter what other stories you tell yourself, don’t doubt it for a minute. I can’t remember the last time I blew like that. Not sure what it means, but that part’s sure as shit real.”

“Heh,” she said, then rolled onto her back and looked at the ceiling. “Am I gonna end up dead?”

I considered the question seriously, rolling it through my mind. I felt certain about one thing. I’d kill myself before I hurt her—well, hurt her physically. I was relatively sure I’d already done serious damage emotionally. But so long as I needed her making phone calls to Daddy, I couldn’t afford to let her feel safe. Those calls needed to motivate him, and that required fear.

Crap.

I didn’t like this feeling, I decided. I didn’t like feeling at all. Half the guys in the Jacks thought I was some kind of killing machine, and they were probably right. Give me a target, I’d neutralize it. But that usually involved guns or knives … or on one very memorable occasion a particularly sharp deer antler. Sometimes you just have to improvise. I tended not to talk to my victims much, let alone try to comfort them.

But for reasons I didn’t care to consider, I wanted to make her feel better.

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” I finally said, compromising. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

“What about Sophie?”

“I got nothing against her, either. All I want is my brother back. Alive.”

Silence fell again. I could almost hear her thinking.

“What would you do for Kit?” I asked her abruptly.

“What do you mean?”

“How far would you go to save her life?”

Would she make the connection? Understand why I had to fight for my brother?

“I’d do anything I had to,” she replied softly, and I heard a hint of despair in her voice. Yup, she was starting to get it. Somehow that was even worse. “I’d steal. I’d lie … I’d kill. Anything.”

Silence fell again, heavy between us. Shit. I pushed up suddenly, rolling off the bed. Her eyes followed me as I walked across the room to the closet, opening it to find my bag and pull out a clean pair of briefs. I thought she gave a little gasp as I slid down my pants and kicked them off, but that could’ve been wishful thinking. I pulled up the fresh ones, then tugged my shirt over my head.

Her eyes went wide as she watched me come back toward her. I wanted to believe my body impressed her, but hell—she was probably just looking over my tats to decide which one she hated most. I didn’t have a back patch with my full club colors on it, but there were a few DJMC symbols here and there.

“You should put on some clothes,” she said.

“Need some fuckin’ sleep. Might as well get comfortable,” I told her, and that part was the truth. Apparently I’d shot all my adrenaline out through my dick, and while a second round would finish things off nicely, I didn’t think she was up to it. I leaned down over the bed and swung her up, setting her on her feet. Then I reached for the snap of her jeans, figuring she’d be more comfortable without them, but also pretty sure she wouldn’t take them off herself.

That’s when she punched me in the stomach, and it wasn’t a girly punch, either.

Christ.

It fucking hurt.

Em glared at me, backing away slowly. She had her fists up and was balanced lightly on her toes, clearly ready to defend herself. Cute. But if she was a martial arts specialist of some kind, I hadn’t seen any evidence over the past six months.

Jesus, you sound like a fucking stalker, asshole.

I suppose I was.

“Glad you didn’t go for my nuts,” I commented, taking in the sight of her. Boobs out, pink nipples all hard, teasing me. Shit. Maybe a second round wasn’t out of the question?

“Next time I’ll rip your dick off,” she muttered, eyes narrowing. Okay, so round two was definitely out for now. Noted. Still, fearsome Em was fuckin’ adorable. Kind of like a really angry baby mouse.

“What were you trying to do, anyway?” she demanded.

“I want to sleep,” I told her. “You need sleep, too, and it’s more comfortable without jeans. That’s it, babe, no big, evil plan to get you out of your clothes. It’s gonna be a long haul, you should rest while you can. God knows what’ll happen tomorrow.”

“My dad’s killing you tomorrow,” she muttered, but she didn’t sound entirely happy about it. Interesting.

“You sound almost sad,” I said. “Don’t tell me you’ve decided I should live after all?”

“Fuck you.”

“That an invitation?”

She turned away from me and started doing up her corset-thingy, which was a damned shame. Then I caught a glimpse of the bandage and sobered.

“You in any pain?”

“It’s fine,” she muttered. “You aren’t sleeping in here, are you?”

“Yeah,” I told her. “Don’t worry, I’ll share the covers with you.”

Em cocked her head at me.

“Why don’t you put me in with Sophie?” she asked. “I’ll bet she’s scared.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Scared?”

“That’s a dick question, under the circumstances,” she muttered. “I guess it was all a lie between us, but please don’t think that because I was stupid enough to fall for your shit once means I’m actually stupid, okay? I’m not going to talk this out with you and give you more information, or let you play with me for your own entertainment.”

Now that was a shame. My cock liked the idea of playing with her quite a bit … But she was right—this wasn’t a game, we weren’t friends, and I shouldn’t fuck with her head any more than I had to.

Had to respect her for that.

“Okay, lie down,” I told her bluntly. “I’m going to cuff your wrist to the bed. Then I’m going to sleep and so are you. Don’t fight with me and I won’t play games. This isn’t a negotiation.”

I saw something cross her face … Disappointment? Maybe. Or resignation.

Either way, I knew I’d just broken her a little more.

Like so much that’d happened tonight, I didn’t know what to think of that.

An hour later I was still wide awake.

I don’t know what I was smoking, thinking I’d fall asleep with Em in my arms. She dropped off pretty quick, which kind of surprised me. I mean, I knew she was safe with me—at least physically—but she didn’t.

She’d refused to take off her clothes, but I still felt every inch of that beautiful body up against mine and it was fantastic. Of course I knew guys with old ladies, and they seemed to enjoy being around them. I’d never understood it, but if it was anything like this, maybe it wasn’t so crazy.

I decided to play a little game. I’d lie in the dark, holding her, and pretend she was my old lady for a while. Pretend we lived in a world where I could have something as beautiful as her. That I didn’t owe the Jacks everything, or that she wasn’t a Reaper.

Then I caught myself, because what the fuck?

Christ, I didn’t want an old lady—or at least one like Em, who could think for herself. I’d signed on for someone who’d do what she was told and be thankful for it. That’d been the plan, and now it was blown to shit. If I was gonna pretend, a better fantasy would be rolling her over and screwing her brains out. Nice … Imagining myself inside her was fun for a while, but then my cock started getting pretty pissed off that we weren’t screwing her brains out for real. Considering I’d only brought a couple changes of clothing with me and I’d already soaked one pair of pants, seemed like a good idea to get some space.

I managed to get out of bed without waking her and headed downstairs to find Skid in the living room, playing Halo. An energy drink sat next to him, right next to a dusting of white powder. Guess I wasn’t the only one pulling an all-nighter.

He set down the controller and raised a brow.

“So, what kind of game you playing, bro?” he asked me. “Because something feels off to me. This bitch is your means to an end. That’s it, right?”

“I’m aware,” I said, my tone dry. “Believe me.”

“Just don’t forget whose team we’re playing for. I heard from Kelsey. Grass is stable. She says it’s not as bad as they thought when he first came in.”

“No word on Clutch?”

“Nope,” he answered.

“Em says Toke’s gone rogue. Reapers have lost control of him. If it’s the truth, we’re fucked.”

“Think she’s messin’ with you?”

I considered the question.

“I think there’s a good chance he’s off the reservation,” I replied. “None of this makes sense. We’ve got a truce, the Reapers voted on it. Shit with Gracie happened a long time ago—if this was a club hit, I don’t think they’d have bothered talking truce in the first place. Retribution’s worthless if you don’t claim it.”

“Asshole couldn’t have fucked Burke over better if we’d planned it out with him,” Skid said, sighing. “We don’t shut this down, it could take him out. All of us fucked then.”

I didn’t bother responding, because it was the simple truth. We had one shot at revolution in the club. Mason had already given Burke the heads-up—his cancer was spreading. The national president of the Devil’s Jacks MC was on his way out. He wouldn’t be able to hide it much longer, which meant Burke had to make his move soon or it was all over.

This was our chance to take the Devil’s Jacks back, make the club back into what it’d been created to be. A brotherhood of riders. Not a bunch of cheap thugs looking to line their own pockets. We’d hoped for more time to consolidate our position, but if the truce held, we’d have the votes we needed. The charters down south were desperate for help keeping out the cartel—help we couldn’t give them if we had to fight a two-front war with the Reapers.

“Hey, bro?” Skid asked.

“What?”

“Call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure even if we manage to pull some kind of peace out of the fire, you won’t get to keep your pretty toy upstairs.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, letting myself fall back into a chair. I scratched my stomach and eyed his can of Monster. I needed some of that shit. “It’s fucked.”

Silence fell between us.

“That’s all you have to say for yourself?” he asked. “ ‘It’s fucked’? Where’s the big plan? You’re the one always thinkin’ things through, telling us we need a strategy.”

“The plan isn’t coming together this time,” I said. “Do you still think we can pull it off?”

“Pull off what? Surviving tomorrow? I give us sixty-forty. Feelin’ optimistic.”

I laughed, because he was probably right. I’d get Em through it, though. No way that pretty girl was gettin’ caught in the crossfire. I wasn’t quite sure why I felt so strongly about keeping her safe, but I did.

“Tomorrow I’m going to meet with Hayes,” I said. “Burke’s checking out his story, maybe our sources down south can say whether it’s true he doesn’t know where Toke is. Based on Em’s reaction, I think there’s a pretty good chance he’s gone rogue.”

“How do you know she’s not spouting the party line?” Skid said. “I think we’ve established your dick’s doing the thinking when it comes to her.”

“You’re probably right there,” I admitted. “But I believe she’s telling the truth. According to her, he’s been on the run for a full week. He sliced her up at a party last weekend. She’s got a knife wound—someone cut her.”

That caught Skid’s attention.

“Damn,” he muttered. “What the hell is going on in that club? Hayes is serious as shit about his girls, no way he’ll let that stand.”

“Exactly,” I replied. “That’s why I’m not ready to give up on the truce just yet. If she’s telling the truth, they want his head as bad as we do. But what the fuck do I know? She could be setting me up.”

Skid laughed.

“There’s karma for you … You at least get laid up there?”

“I’m not gonna answer that.”

Skid started laughing so hard he choked on his drink.

“You fucking pussy,” he muttered finally. “She’s got your balls in her pocket already. When’s the last time you got some ass? Haven’t seen any coming out of your room lately.”

“I’m not gonna answer that, either.”

“You think Princess Emmy’s got a bike?” he asked me, an unholy gleam in his eyes.

“No idea.”

“Better find out. You’ll look cute riding bitch.”

I considered tackling him, but it seemed like too much work. I flipped him off instead, then reached for a game controller.

“Wanna play?”

“Sure.”

It felt good to zone out, and for a little while I was able to pretend we were back at our house and this was just like any other Friday night. Well, except for being fuckin’ sober and having two girls cuffed to the beds upstairs.

Well, except for being fuckin’ sober. Heh.

After a while Skid spoke, not bothering to look at me.

“Just remember you can’t keep her.”

“I know.”

“Just checkin’, bro.”

“No worries. I got my orders.”

“Don’t forget—Jacks first. You really like her?”

“Jesus. What is this, Oprah?”

“If you give a shit about her at all, you’ll hurt her bad. Make her give up on you now. Burke wanted her to fall for you, but with this kidnapping shit nobody’ll think twice about her hating your guts after it’s over.”

I snorted.

“Considering she’s cuffed to a bed after being lied to, you really think I need to go out of my way to hurt Em more? Seems like overkill.”

“You got scratches on your back, dickwad. They don’t look like defensive wounds to me, so no, it’s not overkill. You need to hurt her so much she never looks back.”

I considered his words and sighed.

“You’re probably right.”

We played a few minutes more, and then I turned on him and shot his character point-blank. Animated blood spattered the TV screen.

Skid started laughing again.

“You got anger issues, bro. Or maybe just blue balls. Not my fault you’re a pussy.”

“Eat shit and die.”

“Maybe tomorrow. Tonight I’m gonna eat a pizza pocket. You want one?”

I considered the question carefully.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

I climbed back upstairs around five in the morning.

Skid had camped out on the couch, still playing games and bitching that he’d given up a perfectly good bed so Sophie could have her beauty sleep. A bed that had more than enough room for him and her …

I pointed out that if I couldn’t have Em, he couldn’t have Sophie.

He pointed out that I could’ve had Em. I reminded him that Burke wanted peace, which probably wouldn’t happen if I screwed Emmy Lou Hayes while she was prisoner handcuffed to a bed frame. We settled the argument by calling each other assholes and glaring at each other for a while, which seemed to do the trick.

Now I found myself back upstairs, looking down at the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Before I left this room, I’d make her cry.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

She’d rolled onto her stomach, kicking off the covers. One leg was cocked to the side, which curved her ass perfectly, nicely set off by the fact that her low-rise jeans didn’t quite cover the top of a red thong.

And there, right in the center of her back, was a fuckin’ tramp stamp.

I looked closer, trying to figure out what the hell it might be. Some kind of Chinese symbol surrounded by angel wings. Pretty goddamn awful. Cliche as shit.

I loved it.

It made me think of every porno I’d ever watched, and because I’m an evil bastard my dick got so hard I felt my heartbeat pulse through it. I wanted to pull off those jeans and fuck her pussy, then hit her ass. I’d finish up blowing my wad right in the center of that tat.

Shit.

Yeah. She wouldn’t be down for that.

I slid into bed with her anyway, because she hadn’t been through enough. I tugged her into my body, wrapping my arm around her. Her corset had ridden up, leaving a thin strip of flesh across her stomach. I found myself stroking it, wondering what it would feel like to run my cockhead across that smooth skin. Em squirmed, stretching forward in her sleep. This pushed her ass back into my crotch, which was both the best and worst sensation I’d ever experienced in my life.

Then she stiffened and I heard her breathing change.

“Good morning,” I said quietly.

“Crap, this really happened, didn’t it?” she asked, and her voice sounded small and soft. She was only a few years younger than me, but that softness reminded me just how different our lives had been. Compared to her, I was an old man.

“Yeah, it really happened,” I told her, sniffing her hair. Flowers. “I’ll meet with your dad today, see if he’s found Toke. Maybe end this whole thing before it gets any worse.”

She made a little noise, a sort of hopeless moan that she immediately cut off. Shit. She hadn’t faked that. Either Toke really was in the wind, or she knew the Reapers wouldn’t give him up, even to save a couple of their women. If the whole club decided to take a stand, probably wasn’t much Hayes would be able to do.

I rubbed her stomach again, and she shifted back into me restlessly. Very nice. Skid’s warning that I needed to hurt her ran through my head, but maybe I could touch her just a little more, first. I promised myself I wouldn’t actually fuck her, which made it okay, right?

It wasn’t because I have morals. Hell, it wasn’t even because I knew she deserved better. I just wasn’t sure I’d be able to give her up once I’d felt that tight cunt squeezing down around my dick. Wars have been fought for less, and now I understood why. But seeing as we’d already fooled around once, I figured a little more playtime wouldn’t really change much in the long run … In fact, it would make the betrayal even worse. I’d be doing it for her own good.

I slid my fingers under the top button of her jeans.

“What are you doing?” she murmured, her voice sleepy.

“Makin’ you feel better.”

Em muttered something, but I couldn’t tell what it was and she didn’t try to stop me when I popped open the button. Then my fingers slid down the zipper and my hand slipped inside.

She was wet already.

Nice.

Had she been dreaming about me? Hell, maybe she’d been dreaming about someone else. If so, I needed to kill the motherfucker ASAP. She shifted her legs as my fingers found her clit, sliding past it to dip inside and collect some of that sweet moisture. Then I found that sensitive spot again and circled it, teasing.

“I hate you.”

“I know you do, babe,” I whispered. “If it makes you feel better, you can pretend you have a choice.”

“Do I?”

I considered the question.

“We always have a choice,” I said finally, and for some crazy reason my foster father’s face popped into my head—the way it’d looked right before I’d killed him.

The fuck?

“Are we going to have sex?” she asked, breaking through my twisted thoughts.

“Do you want to?”

It satisfied the hell out of me that she had to think about it. Then she shook her head.

“No, I want someone better than you for my first,” she said firmly. Fair enough.

“Let’s compromise,” I replied. “How ’bout I get you off. I can feel how much you want it.”

I circled her clit again for emphasis, and Em shuddered.

“Unlock me and take off your pants,” she demanded.

I burst out laughing.

“You’re supposed to be a little more subtle about seducing me into letting you go.”

“I’m not really good with subtle,” she said. “How’s this … You want to get me off, right?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Do you want my hand on your dick while you do it?”

I swallowed.

“What do you think?”

“Here’s the thing …” she whispered. “I won’t pretend that getting away from here isn’t a high priority. But you can feel for yourself how wet I am for you.”

My finger twitched on her clit and she shivered.

“So,” she continued. “It’s your call—is it worth the risk to find out whether I’m messing with you? I’m sure a big, bad biker man like you is more than capable of defending himself from me. You’ve already proven how much stronger you are.”

She wiggled her butt as she spoke, cradling my cock between those tight cheeks. Hell yeah, it was worth the risk—and you’ll be shocked to learn the little head made that particular call. I’m not an idiot—I knew she was playing games with me.

I just didn’t care.

I stood up and stripped quickly. Em watched at first, then turned her eyes away as I reached for my briefs. I considered leaving them on to make her more comfortable. Yeah, fuck that. I pulled them down, then crawled across the bed and lay over her, lowering my face down to hers, catching her lips with mine.

I didn’t bother with the sweet kisses. My cock had been hard for a hell of a long time and the idea of her touching it was almost more than I could handle. Probably a good thing she still had her clothing on.

Otherwise I might just lose control and push deep inside.

I knew damned well that would be a huge mistake for any number of reasons. Not least of these was the fact that most people would consider it rape. Picnic Hayes would probably be among those people and he had enough reason to kill me already.

Fear of her father wasn’t why I was determined to hold back, though. Some small, rational part of me didn’t want her looking back and rewriting what happened between us, to believe I forced her. Since when did I give a shit about a woman’s regrets? I figured it was better not to consider that too carefully.

Em pulled free after a minute and nuzzled my neck.

“Unlock me,” she whispered.

Fuck it.

I reached up and unlocked her, bracing myself for an attack. Instead I felt her arms come around me, their delicious warmth tracing along my back toward my ass.

Shit, that felt good.

I kissed down her neck and then started unhooking that goddamned corset. It must’ve had thirty little fasteners. I’d always thought these things were hot as fuck, but my interest in them was fading fast.

“Let me,” she said softly. I looked into her eyes and they were all soft and full of need. “Roll off for a minute, okay?”

I rolled off her and she blushed, then turned away.

“I’ve already seen your tits, babe.”

“It’s a lot, Liam,” she said softly. “Just give me a sec, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, letting my eyes trail down her back. I really loved that little tramp stamp of hers. Tacky as hell, but I’d always been a sucker for them.

Nice to have a target.

“What does your tat say?”

She sighed heavily.

“It’s supposed to say ‘Forever,’ ” she said. “My sister and I got them one night not long after our mom died, that’s why the angel wings. We wanted it to be a memorial to her. I have to admit, we were a little drunk when we came up with it … It was a bad time in our lives. But the guy who did it was a fucking idiot. It actually means ‘squirrel.’ ”

“Shit,” I said, trying to hold back a snort of laughter. Thou shalt not laugh at the naked girl when she’s about to touch your cock. “Well, I guess nobody looking at it would know. How’d you find out?”

“When I went to college,” she said. “I did a semester over in Seattle. My roommate was Chinese, so she filled me in.”

“That sucks.”

“Not as much as my mom dying,” she muttered. She seemed to be struggling with the corset, and I was just about to ask her if she was okay when she rolled back and clocked me over the head with a heavy, hardback book.

Well fuck.

Really shouldn’t have let my little head do all the thinking.

Chapter Five

EM

It wasn’t the best of weapons.

A gun would’ve been nice, or a baseball bat. Maybe pepper spray.

Knife?

I knew how to use them all. For the most part, my dad drove me crazy growing up. He was overprotective, overbearing, controlling … paranoid. Just paranoid enough to spend a certain amount of time teaching his girls to look at anything and everything as a potential weapon.

Even books.

God bless Stephen King, because the hardback I’d found wedged between the wrought-iron headboard and the wall was fucking huge. It had obviously been back there for a hell of a long time, too. Totally covered with dust.

I didn’t feel a moment of guilt as I slammed it down onto Liam’s head, just savage satisfaction. I wasn’t under any illusion that this was a stellar escape plan. The odds were against me. But if I managed to hit him just right, I might be able to knock him out long enough to cuff him.

Then I’d only have Skid to deal with.

I figured the longer we stayed kidnapped, the more likely it was more Jacks would show up. Waiting for a better shot wasn’t worth the risk—at least that was my logic.

The book hit Liam with a satisfying thud, knocking him to the side. I followed it with a smash against the side of his face, which he managed to block with his arm.

Still knocked him off the bed, though.

In an instant I was up and over him, kicking him as hard as I could. I’d aimed for his crotch but he twisted at the last minute, blocking me. Liam sprang back up—rather impressively, I have to admit—and then it was all over. He tackled me against the bed, pinning me down with his full weight. One hand caught both of mine and dragged them high over my body. The other covered my mouth, immobilizing my head so I couldn’t head-butt him.

My little rebellion had lasted about thirty seconds.

Crap.

Liam’s face was directly above, and I looked up at him, expecting to see anger or betrayal. Instead I saw his eyes dark and intense and hot with need.

Fuck. Fighting with me turned the bastard on.

I needed to start remembering that.

One of his knees pushed between my legs, shoving them apart, and then he was up against my center and shit … That felt good. Sometimes I hate myself. On the bright side, I definitely hated him more.

“Next time make sure you have a better plan, babe,” he said softly. “This one never had a shot, and you risked pissing me off. You do that to the wrong man and he’s gonna really hurt you.”

And you won’t? I wanted to snap, but he kept my mouth covered. Then he pushed his hips into me, the heat in his eyes flaring.

“Fuck, you tempt me,” he muttered. “You have no idea how much I want to shove my dick into you. No idea at all.”

I glared at him hatefully, because the smell of him, the feel of him over me, the adrenaline rushing through me … All of it headed straight between my legs. He’d invaded my dreams earlier. When he started touching me and I’d woken up, I’d already been on fire. Now it was worse, which was pretty damned unfair.

“I’m going to let you talk,” he said. “But remember, you start screaming, there’s nobody to hear you but me and Skid. Oh, and your girl Sophie. She can’t do shit to help you, but hearing you yellin’ will probably scare the hell out of her. That what you want?”

I shook my head as much as I could, which wasn’t much. His hand lifted.

“You’re an asshole,” I muttered.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said. He fumbled with the cuffs, and a few seconds later I found myself with both hands fastened to the top of the bed. Liam sat up, straddling me. I was stupid enough to look down, where I found his cock standing out, hard as a rock.

It was the first time I’d actually seen him.

Wow.

Liam wasn’t small. It was long and the tip was all red and angry looking. Just a tiny bit of fluid welled out at the very top, and I licked my lips unconsciously. His breath hissed and I flushed, forcing myself to look up at the ceiling instead.

“You still want me to get you off?” he asked, offering a dark smile. “Seems like the least I can do, under the circumstances.”

I flushed more and didn’t bother answering his question. I’d like to say this was because it was so crazy, or that I knew he wouldn’t listen if I said no. Maybe he wouldn’t. But a secret, dirty little part of me kind of wanted it …

And yes, the answer to your question is that I am definitely fucking insane. But betrayal and evil ways aside, Liam was hot—his body called to mine in a way that I couldn’t seem to fight. I’d love to say that it disgusted me to see how our fighting turned him on, but that would be pretty damned hypocritical.

It turned me on, too.

Something about how he overpowered me, the way he didn’t handle me like I was fragile. Liam wasn’t scared to touch me, unlike every other man I’d ever known. His fingers came down over my corset and unhooked it quickly. My boobs spilled out, and he took one in each hand, squeezing them softly, pinching at the nipples. Sensation raced through me and I squirmed. Then he pushed them together, gaze utterly focused.

“I’d love to fuck your tits.”

I gasped and he gave a harsh laugh.

“Christ, Em, if that scares you, you definitely don’t want to know all the other sick shit I have running through my head. What I’d do with these, if I owned you …”

His voice trailed off as he scooted down my body. Then his lips caught my nipple and sucked it in deep. I felt his hand trail down my side, and it slid between us to tug down my jeans.

I was still wet from my dream, not to mention when he’d touched me before. His finger penetrated me smoothly and I moaned. Shit. How did he do that?

This was what people meant by chemistry.

Damn.

Why the hell had I wasted any time chasing after Painter?

Because Painter isn’t a fucking kidnapper? the sensible part of my brain pointed out. A second finger slid in and then his thumb started circling my clit. I moaned again, twisting underneath him. He pulled away from my nipple and laid his cheek down between them, giving a low laugh.

“How much do you hate me right now, Emmy girl?” he asked, his voice a whispered taunt.

I didn’t dignify it with a reply.

His fingers curled up inside me, pressing against my inner wall as his thumb slid slowly back and forth. I shuddered and my hips bucked. That tight tension that builds up to an orgasm crept through me, his power over me a tangible thing.

Shit, I wanted his cock inside.

“You hate me enough that you want me to stop? Because I’ll stop, Em. Just say the word.”

He stopped moving, and my hips pressed up at him, begging for more. God. There’s something wrong with me. Liam laughed again, then started licking his way down my stomach.

“How’s that, baby?” he asked, thumb starting to work my clit again. “Feel good being turned on by a Devil’s Jack?”

It felt fucking fantastic, but I’d be damned if I’d acknowledge the point. Apparently I didn’t need to, because he slid lower, tugging down my jeans and panties enough for his mouth to reach my cleft. He breathed softly on it for a second, then flicked his tongue over my most sensitive spot.

I squealed, my hips bucking. Liam laughed again.

“Tell you what,” he said. “You say the word, I’ll pull off those pants and throw your legs over my shoulders, show you just how much you’ve been missing.”

I stayed silent. He licked me again, pausing to tug on my clit with gentle suction.

“I hate you,” I said, but it came out as less of a declaration and more of a plea.

“Everyone hates me. But not everyone tastes as good as you, sweetheart. What’ll it be? We doing this or not?”

I wanted to tell him to fuck off. But a traitorous little voice in my head pointed out that the damage was already done … Why not enjoy it? I’d already made a fool of myself and nothing would change that.

“No sex,” I said.

“Define ‘sex,’ ” he replied, kissing my mound almost tenderly.

“No sticking your penis inside me.”

“I can work with that.”

Seconds later my pants were gone. Liam’s lips covered my pussy and then I lost track of time. I’d had one other guy go down on me and I’d enjoyed it, but it was nothing compared to this devil’s tongue. He alternated between my clit and my lower lips, fingers deep inside me, playing me until I couldn’t even breathe, let alone talk. The first orgasm hit me hard and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.

That’s where I expected it to end, but he just kept going until I couldn’t tell how much time had passed or even remember how many times I came. Heaven and hell, all rolled together and tied with a bow.

Make that a handcuff.

Then he pulled away with a groan to kneel over me, eyes feral with hunger.

“Roll over.”

HUNTER

Em surrounded me … Her taste, her smell, those little noises she made when she came. All of it washed through me, driving me crazy. I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life than I wanted to shove my cock deep into her cunt. Ride her. Own her.

I couldn’t do it, though.

Not that I had any illusions—if I survived this little adventure, she’d never talk to me again. But I’d be damned if her first shot at real sex would come handcuffed to a bed in the middle of a club standoff.

But I’m no saint.

Staring down at Em’s heart-shaped ass, I knew I’d be pretty happy up inside there, too. Also not gonna happen. Those cheeks, though … I could make them work for me. I grabbed her hips and pulled her up onto her knees. She wavered unsteadily, so I grabbed a pillow and shoved it under her stomach. Then I ran my cock along the crack of her rear, savoring the heat.

“No,” she said quickly, her voice panicked.

“Relax, babe,” I said. “No dick inside, remember? I promised.”

She stayed tense, though, as I pushed her ass cheeks together, cradling my cock between them. When she tensed her muscles, they got even tighter, so I wasn’t about to complain.

Slowly I started sliding my cock in and out, precome seeping from the head and smoothing my way perfectly.

“That feels incredible,” I muttered. She gave a little grunt, like she’d protest if she had the energy. Fortunately, I’d pretty much wiped her out already.

I picked up speed with each stroke, her tight heat making my dick impossibly harder. I stopped thinking, eyes focused on that Chinese squirrel symbol. Fuckin’ crazy girl. I felt my balls tighten and knew I was close.

Shit, this was like every porn fantasy I’d ever had coming true.

Well, not quite true. Ideally I’d be inside her, but honestly … Her ass cheeks cradling my cock felt better than any pussy I’d ever fucked. I guess that’s what happens when you find the perfect woman.

“Shit, babe,” I whispered. It pulled inside me, the terrible desire. Her slick heat surrounded me, her legs quivering beneath me. I felt all powerful and consumed with need.

Then it hit.

My head exploded into lights as my cock blew out. I let her cheeks go and watched in utter fascination as my come covered her tattoo.

Christ, Em was a good lay.

I stayed there, running my hands up and down along her sides, soothing her for long moments. I heard a sniffle, and wondered if she was crying. Probably.

Then it was time.

I pulled away from her slowly, carefully, treasuring the sight of her lying there. I stood back and pulled on my jeans. Then I dug through the pocket to find my cell phone.

Damn …

I don’t know what was worse—what I was about to do, or how much I was looking forward to it. I turned it on and opened the camera app, coming up behind her and taking three great shots of her jizz-soaked ass.

“What’re you doing?” she murmured softly, stretching. I took action shots the whole time, wishing she’d roll over so I could get those tits.

“Saving the moment,” I told her absently. “Want something to show the boys back home. You look like a fuckin’ porn star. Think Daddy’ll want one of these?”

She tried to sit up but the cuffs caught her. Instead she fell heavily to the side—facing me, thank fuck—and I started taking pics of her tits and that sweet pussy I could just see peeking out between her legs.

Her eyes met mine, full of sudden, horrific comprehension. This has to happen, I reminded myself.

Em screamed in wordless rage. Then she raised her legs and kicked the wall, the force of her anger driving the bed a good six inches across the floor. A mirror mounted over the dresser fell to the floor with the crash of shattering glass.

“You cocksucking bastard!” she shrieked.

I took one last shot, then turned off my camera. That should do it.

“Consider this a lesson why you shouldn’t trust strangers you meet on the Internet,” I told her, offering a nasty smile. “I’m gonna go get something to clean up the glass. Be a good girl while I’m gone—unless you want another lesson? I can do worse than pictures, you know.”

I opened the door and stepped out quietly. She screamed at me again, the sound tearing through me as I jogged down the stairs.

Skid looked up from the couch and cocked a brow.

“Do I wanna know?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Naw, just took your advice,” I replied. “I hurt her bad. Should be enough to do the trick.”

“Right thing to do, brother.”

I shrugged.

“Guess so. Fuckin’ sucks.”

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t usually follow my own advice,” Skid muttered. “Glad you did it, though. Frees her up to find someone else. Get her out of this game.”

“Every once in a while, I wonder what life would be like outside the club,” I admitted, rubbing a hand through my hair. “You know, if we didn’t have all this shit to deal with? If we could just live like normal people.”

“Never gonna happen, so might as well forget it,” Skid replied. “Hell, you’d be bored off your ass. Can you imagine holding down a regular job? Fuck, what would you even do? I know you’re fuckin’ great at hunting people down, taking them out—”

“Don’t say shit like that, bro.”

Skid laughed.

“My bad. You’re fuckin’ great at whatever it is you do for Burke,” he said. “Probably fetching coffee, delivering flowers. Shit like that. But a regular job? You’d be fucked, man. It is what it is.”

“Sometimes I hate this.”

“Yeah, me, too. But you know what? Sometimes it fuckin’ kicks ass, so let’s focus on getting through the next day or two. Then we’ll head back home and get you laid. She’s not the only pussy in the world.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

Skid snorted.

“Fuckin’ pussy.”

“I said don’t talk about her like that.”

“I was talkin’ about you, asshole. Biggest damned pussy in the house.”

This time I decided tackling him was worth the effort.

EM

I refused to speak when Hunter finally returned, focusing my gaze exactly two inches above his right shoulder. After a few minutes of one-sided conversation, he gave a frustrated sigh and walked me over to Sophie’s room.

She’d been cuffed to a bed just like me, and even in sleep she looked as rough as I felt. Shit. I hoped to hell Skid hadn’t decided to teach her the same kind of “lesson” Liam gave me.

“You okay?” I asked, sitting down on the side of the bed. She opened her eyes slowly, face twisting.

“I need the bathroom,” she whispered.

I looked over at Liam—no, Hunter. I needed to remember that. Liam was the imaginary nice guy. Hunter was the giant douche who’d taken dirty pictures of me.

“Can she go to the fucking bathroom?” I asked, not bothering to hide my hatred.

“Yeah,” he replied, his face blank. He walked toward us and I scooted out of the way, glaring at him while he unlocked Sophie’s cuffed arm. “C’mon. Both of you.”

I grabbed Sophie’s hand and pulled her across the hallway and into the bathroom.

“I can’t believe how stupid I was,” I told her, feeling sick. “I actually invited him to come and meet me. I made it so easy. Idiot.”

Sophie used the toilet and then washed up, cupping her hands to get a drink. She seemed so quiet, so subdued. I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t more pissed. Hell, she should be pissed—at me. I got her into this shit.

“Do you have any idea what’s going to happen to us?” she asked. “Skid scares the crap out of me.”

“Did he hurt you?” I demanded, feeling my blood pressure rise.

“No.”

“That’s good,” I muttered. “This is a pretty fucked-up situation. Toke—he’s the one who cut me at the party—he’s gone off his rocker. This shooting thing makes no sense to me at all, but if it really happened, we’re screwed. Nobody knows where Toke is, not even Deke, and he’s Toke’s president. They’ve all been looking for him since the party. Cutting me was not okay, and Dad wants to make sure he pays for it.”

“Shit,” she said, eyes wide. “So your dad couldn’t give them this Toke guy, even if he wanted to?”

“I don’t think so,” I said slowly, wishing I could fix things—for her, if not for me. Hell, Sophie was a mother. What would her little boy do without her? “I mean, he’s really protective of me. When Toke hurt me like that, Dad lost it. If Dad could find him, he’d be found already. We’re pretty fucked here, Sophie.”

“Do you think they’ll hurt us?” she asked, her face pale.

I thought about my answer carefully. I didn’t want to freak her out, but I wanted to be honest.

“Liam won’t,” I said, and for some reason I believed it. Maybe because he hadn’t raped me? “I mean, he won’t hurt me. I don’t think he’ll hurt you, either.”

She cocked her head at me.

“You do realize he was lying all along, right?” she asked. “Just because you liked him doesn’t mean you can trust him.”

I almost started laughing, because that was rich.

“Oh, I know that. Believe me, I’m well aware that I’m the fuckwit that got us into this.”

“You’re not a fuckwit,” she said forcefully. “He’s a liar and he’s good at it. Not your fault that he targeted you.”

“You guys okay in there?” Hunter called through the door.

“We’re fine,” I snapped. “Give us a fucking minute, asshole!”

Christ, I wanted to kill him.

Sophie’s eyes widened.

“That was pretty bitchy,” she hissed. “Do you think that’s smart? Maybe I’m reading the situation wrong here, but don’t we want him in a good mood?”

I snorted, thinking about those pictures.

Hunter was such a prick.

“Fuck that. I’m a Reaper and I’ll be damned if I’ll suck up to some Devil’s Jack dickwad.”

“Well, I’m not a Reaper,” Sophie said, her voice quiet but hard. I looked at her, startled—this was the first real emotion she’d shown. “And I’d just as soon not die here and leave Noah an orphan, so don’t piss him off.”

That took the wind out of me. Shit, I needed to be thinking. I knew it was up to me to get us out of this, and to pull it off I’d need to use my head. Damn. We finished up and left the bathroom. Hunter jerked his head toward Sophie’s bedroom. It took everything I had to obey him quietly, but I kept picturing Sophie’s boy and reminded myself I had to be smart about this.

“Go lie down on the bed.”

We did what he said. Thankfully, he only cuffed one hand each, which was far more comfortable than having both stuck up over my head. I tried to ignore him as he leaned over me, tracing a finger across my cheek.

“I’ll bring you some food,” he murmured.

“I’m gonna buy a bright red dress to wear to your funeral, Liam,” I hissed. Shit. I needed to control my tongue …

“Yeah?” he asked. “Make sure it’s short and shows off your tits.”

“I hate you.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that,” he muttered, then walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I closed my eyes, trying to picture a dress bright and slutty enough to send just the right message as I stood over his coffin. Sophie cleared her throat.

“Don’t worry,” I muttered. “We’ll find our way out of this. We’ll escape somehow. Either that or the guys will find us.”

I wondered if she believed me.

Probably not. I didn’t even believe myself.

Chapter Six

HUNTER

I slapped together two peanut butter sandwiches, feeling strangely guilty because Skid and I had killed all six pizza pockets between us while we played Halo.

That left sandwiches and stale potato chips for the girls.

Why I gave a shit about what Em ate, I didn’t know. This wasn’t me—I didn’t worry about women, or take care of them. Feed them. Okay, so I kept an eye on my sister, but she didn’t count. I grabbed a couple handfuls of chips and dropped them on the paper plates next to the sandwiches, then tucked two bottles of water under my arm. Em was so not getting an energy drink. Fuck. Like I needed her more riled up …

When I entered the upstairs room, I felt like an even bigger dick because they were obviously hungry.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” I said, unlocking their cuffs. I frowned at Em, then pulled out a chair from the desk, spinning it around to straddle it. Both girls ignored me pointedly, tearing into the food like starving prisoners.

Then again, I guess they were.

“In a minute we’re going to call your dad,” I said. “Let him know you’re alive, and find out if he’s made any progress.”

No response. My mood grew darker as they finished their food, Em still refusing to look at me.

“Lie down again.”

I cuffed Sophie first, then walked around to Em. I leaned over, then felt something touch my back. Fuck, were there spiders in here?

Sophie shrieked and spat a mouthful of blood at me. The fuck?!

“Jesus Christ!” I yelled, because I shit you not.

Bitch. Spat. Blood.

“Oh my God, are you all right?” Em screeched at Sophie, nearly taking out my eardrums in the process. “Hunter, you need to get her to a doctor!”

What was going on here? Blood and spit ran down Sophie’s chin, confusing the hell out of me. Her eyes were bright with some kind of emotion I couldn’t read. Something was off with this situation in a big way. Blood doesn’t just shoot out of people.

“I’m tho thorry,” she mumbled. “I bith my tongue and ith thcared me.”

I looked down at my arm again, which was covered with red spray. Just what I needed.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I muttered. “What the fuck’s wrong with you? Shit, you got any diseases?”

“No, I don’t hath any ditheatheth,” Sophie mumbled, her tongue getting in the way. Then she seemed to bite it again. “Owth!”

Good. I hoped the damned thing fell off.

“Drive me fuckin’ crazy. I’ll get you a piece of ice to suck on. Jesus, that’s fucking disgusting.”

I left the room, slamming the door behind me.

What next?

Five minutes later, I scrubbed the blood and spit off my arm while frowning at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sophie and Em were up to something. I wasn’t sure what. Not that it really mattered … It was pretty clear to me by now that I was looking at a complete clusterfuck.

I’d broken Em, or at least I’d tried to. I’d terrorized Sophie, who hadn’t done shit to deserve it. We weren’t any closer to getting Clutch back, and Burke was fucked when it came to the election if we didn’t put a lid on things.

In a few minutes I’d be calling Picnic Hayes. I wasn’t sure if I’d be meeting with him to talk business or facing my own execution.

Good times.

I walked down to the kitchen and dug through the freezer, finding an ice cube. Then I wrapped it in a napkin and took it back upstairs, along with a disposable cell phone. I handed Sophie the ice, which she popped into her mouth.

“We’re going to call your dad again,” I told Em. “I’ll let you talk to him for a minute, then I’ll see where the situation’s headed.”

“What about Sophie?” she demanded. “Ruger will want to talk to her.”

“Ruger can fuck himself,” I said impatiently.

“Pleathe?” Sophie whined, reddish drool sliding down her chin, making her look like a zombie. I don’t think she could’ve looked more disgusting and pathetic if she’d had a full Hollywood makeup team. “My boy—Noah—he’th got a prethcription he needth. Ruger doethn’t know where it ith. Let me talk to him for two minuteth. Pleathe.”

I studied her, then took a quick look at Em. Both seemed way too eager.

“You’re full of shit,” I said.

“You want a seven-year-old kid to die?” Em asked, glaring at me. “Not enough to kill two women, now you’re gonna take out a little boy, too? You’re a hell of a man, Liam.”

Jesus Christ. Take a few pictures of the girl naked and covered in fresh come, and she went full bitch.

“Do you never shut up?” I asked. Fucking woman was determined to drive me insane. Still, I considered the request … It probably didn’t matter. Let Sophie call Ruger—maybe it’d quiet her down. If it gave me two minutes of blood-free peace, that’d be worth the cost of admission right there.

I popped open the phone and hit the number, setting it on speaker. We listened as it rang, and then Ruger answered.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice tight.

“It’s Thophie,” Sophie said, her swollen tongue twisting the words. “I’m here with Hunter and Em, they’re lithening.”

I snapped the phone shut, annoyed. Should I really be surprised she’d try and warn him I was here? Probably not, but I wouldn’t let her get away with it, either.

“No fucking games,” I growled. “You’re done.”

Sophie nodded and put the ice back in her mouth. So much for her desperate need to talk to Ruger about medicine for the kid. There was a lot more going on here than I could follow.

Bullshit all the way.

I glanced over at Em, who was still glaring at me. So far as I could tell, she only had the one expression at this point. I don’t know why it bothered me so much. I wanted her to hate me, right?

“Calling your dad now,” I told her. “Be a good girl, Emmy Lou—or did you need another lesson?”

She flinched and looked away. I smirked at her cruelly, hating myself because I wanted a smile from her so bad. The phone started ringing, and then Hayes’s voice came through the speaker.

“Picnic.”

“Hey, Daddy,” Em said. “We’re okay for now.”

She glanced up at me, an unspoken question in her eyes—would they stay okay?

“What the fuck’s wrong with Sophie?” Picnic asked. “Ruger says she wasn’t talking right.”

“She bit her tongue,” Em said. “Don’t worry, she’s fine. But you need to get us out of here.”

“We know, baby,” he said, his voice softening. “We’re working on it.”

Very touching.

This guy was definitely gonna kill me. I know I would, in his place. Maybe I should’ve screwed her after all, I thought wryly. If I was going to die over a woman, would be nice to actually collect … I studied Em, whose eyes were suspiciously moist.

Well, fuck.

“That’s enough, girls,” I said, pulling away the phone. I turned and walked out of the room, putting it to my ear.

“Hayes,” I said. “We need to talk.”

“We’re talking,” he said, although I heard restrained fury in his voice.

“Em says you don’t know where this Toke asshole has gone,” I said. “Says he’s on his own. That true? You can’t control your own men, now?”

“It’s complicated,” he replied. “But that’s the essence of it.”

“I don’t buy it. I know Em thinks that’s the case, but sounds like Reaper games to me. You using your own daughter to play me?”

Picnic sighed.

“I wish to hell I had that much control over the situation. We voted to pull Toke’s patch before he grabbed your boy. He’s out bad.”

Shit … Every instinct I had said he was telling the truth.

“I want to save this truce,” I said slowly. “I think you do, too. But that can’t happen until we have our guy back. And it needs to happen today.”

“I want those girls back. Safe. They got fuck-all to do with this.”

“We got ourselves a hell of a problem here,” I muttered. “I want to meet, talk it out in person. You convince me you’re telling the truth, give me something to take to my club. Maybe there’s still a way out of this. The girls’ll stay with my brother—they’re my safe passage.”

“Where do you want to meet?”

“Spirit Lake,” I told him. “Two this afternoon. And Hayes? You touch me, Sophie and Em are dead. In fact, you better hope I drive careful, because unless Skid sees me in one piece at the end of this, he’ll take it out on them. He’s a mean bastard, doesn’t give a shit that they’re women.”

Silence stretched between us.

“I hear you,” he muttered. “We’ll be there and you’ll walk away safe. For now. Someday you’re gonna pay for this.”

“I’m aware,” I said, and I felt a grin tug at my mouth. “Although I have to admit, you don’t scare me half as much as your daughter does. She’s a tough little bitch, isn’t she?”

More silence.

“Tryin’ to decide how to take that.”

“Take it to mean she’s not afraid to defend herself,” I said, wondering if I’d lost my mind. Burke always said never give out more information than you need to, and he was right. Yet here I was, either bragging on Em or bitching about her. Wasn’t sure which. “You did a good job with her. She made me, right before I grabbed her. Took off running, tough to catch. She’s a fighter.”

“Fuck you,” Picnic said. “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Maybe, but it won’t be today. Not if you want her back. I’ll see you at two. Bring whoever you want, but don’t think you can follow me afterward. If I’m not home on time, Skid will pull the trigger. I’ll leave the target up to him. Until then, make sure you’ve done everything you can to find Toke. There’s more at stake here than you realize. We aren’t careful, we’ll start a war that could destroy both our clubs. The cartel loves shit like this.”

“Fuck you,” he repeated.

I smiled and hung up the phone.

Em’s dad was a tough bastard. As much as I hated to admit it, I kind of liked him.

EM

Shit.

All other issues aside, being held captive was boring.

I lay in the bed next to Sophie, one hand fastened to the headboard. Thank God for that—no matter what else happened, at least we were together. I felt pretty good about what we’d accomplished during the whole phone call incident. I’d managed to lift Hunter’s Leatherman tool from his pocket while Sophie distracted him by spitting blood. Impressive thinking on her part, because it’d been truly disgusting. Then I’d grabbed his wallet when she called Ruger.

Now I had both items hidden under the mattress, ready and waiting for our escape attempt. I wasn’t sure what use the wallet would be, but the Leatherman was worth its weight in gold. I was almost positive I could use it to pick the locks on our handcuffs.

Lock picking. Another fun hobby Dad had shared with us girls … I also knew how to hot-wire a car, although I only seemed to get it right about half the time.

Naturally, Kit always nailed it on the first try.

Thinking about her almost made me cry. I wanted to see her again so bad …

“When do you want to try our escape?” Sophie asked, her voice a whisper. I started to answer, but before anything came out, the door opened. Hunter walked into the room. He came over and stood next to the bed, studying me. To say the silence was uncomfortable was one hell of an understatement.

“I’m gonna go see your dad in a bit,” he said, holding my eyes. There was something intimate and scary about his gaze … I blushed, and wondered if it all screamed “Guilty!” to poor Sophie. I sure as shit felt guilty—it wasn’t enough that my stupidity had brought this down on us. No, I’d all but had sex with the enemy, and I have to be honest. I’d have gone all the way if he’d asked me to.

Might as well hand him the keys to the Reapers’ clubhouse while I was at it, because that’s how loyal I’m not.

Fuck it. No more.

“Em?” he asked, and I blinked, realizing I’d missed something.

“What?”

“Roll your hand over so I can get to the lock,” he repeated, his voice quiet and firm. “I want to talk to you before I leave.”

I did what he said, shooting Sophie a glance. She bit her lip, obviously scared for me. She really, really didn’t deserve this situation.

“C’mon,” Hunter said, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. He grasped my upper arm, leading me out the door and across the hallway to his bedroom.

“Have a seat,” he said quietly. The only place to sit was the bed, which held such fond memories.

“I’ll stand.”

“Sit on the fuckin’ bed, Em,” he growled, and I realized he might be quiet right now, but he was anything but peaceful. I sat. Hunter came and crouched down in front of me, hands resting on my knees, face-to-face. I didn’t want him touching me, and it took everything I had not to kick him in the face. I’d already learned, though. No point in attacking unless I had somewhere to go with it.

“I want some information from you,” he said. “I’ve got a meet with your dad in an hour. I need him to tell me the truth about Toke, and I need to make him listen about the truce between the clubs. What can you tell me to make that happen?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked, raising my brows. “You already used me to screw my club. Fool me once, asshole. I have nothing to say. Nada.”

“Babe, I know you believe Toke is out of control,” he said, his eyes earnest, boring into mine. I squirmed, uncomfortable with his intensity. “And I think there’s a pretty good chance your dad is telling the truth when he says that’s the story. But here’s the thing … Right now, only a few guys in my club know what’s happening. We can keep a lid on it for one more day at most. Once the rest find out, we’re looking at a war and nothing can prevent it.”

“Fuck. You.”

He smirked.

“Later, sweetheart. Now try to keep your mind on business for me like a good girl.”

“Jesus, you’re a perv!”

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” he replied, grinning. Then his smile faded. “I’m gonna fill you in a little on some shit we don’t talk about, okay? That’s how fuckin’ serious this is. There’s two groups in my club. One side—which includes me, Skid, and our brothers in Portland—wants peace with the Reapers. We aren’t too happy with the way things have been these past few years. I hate to admit it, but a lot of the Devil’s Jacks have lost their way. More interested in money and territory than living free and brotherhood. Our national president is weak, babe. The Jacks have been running loose, and it’s time for someone new to take over, clean house. Up until last night, we just about had things lined up to control the next election. Toke fucked that up for us.”

I listened, stunned. What was this, some kind of trick?

“I’m telling you this because it’s our last chance, babe,” he said quietly, obviously reading my thoughts. “This gets out, Burke—that’s our guy—loses his shot at the presidency. We bet everything on the truce with the Reapers, on a complete change of direction for the club. There are others who want war, and Toke will give it to them. Mason, our old president, held on as long as he could, trying to give us the time we needed to pull it off. He can’t hold on any longer—cancer. Hasn’t been able to ride for nearly a month. We don’t put this problem to rest—today—it’s all over. That means war between the clubs, babe. The cartel will move up from California and we won’t be able to stop them. They’ll destroy the Jacks and then they’ll come after the Reapers.”

Wow. This was way bigger than I’d ever imagined, and I wished to hell I knew what to do with it.

“Call my dad and tell him,” I whispered, searching his face. “Maybe he can work with you. I don’t have anything for you, Hunter. And if I did, I still wouldn’t talk. It’s not my call to make.”

“Not gonna happen,” he replied, shaking his head. “Not unless you tell me what side he’s on. Is he for peace with the Jacks? What’s his agenda?”

“I have no idea,” I replied, thankful for once that it was the truth. I couldn’t betray my club if I didn’t know anything. “Dad doesn’t share club business with me.”

My words hung heavy between us—Hunter had just shared far too much club business with me. He’d trusted me. Why? Because dead girls can’t tell stories?

“Are you going to kill me?” I asked quietly, subdued.

He reached up and cradled my face with his big hand, wiping a thumb across my cheek. Shit, was I crying? Goddammit.

“No, sweetheart,” he replied, his expression impossible to read. “By the time you’re loose, it’ll be over. Worth the risk, if you can give me any information to make this go smoother. I want a way out, babe.”

He sounded so sincere. Shit. Why did I keep falling for this? Remember how he used you and took pictures of you naked? This man is evil!

“Why did you start talking to me?” I asked, unable to resist. Hell, why not pick at the scab? See if I couldn’t make myself hurt just a little more, because I’m masochistic that way … “Why the whole fake romance thing? I understand keeping tabs, but I don’t see the advantage in getting tangled up with me.”

He smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile.

“We wanted peace,” he said. “Seriously, that’s still what we want. We can handle the cartel on our southern border if we’re not fighting with the Reapers up north. If my faction pulls it off, we’ll have the votes we need to take the national presidency. That means we can turn the club back in the direction it needs to go.”

“But what does that have to do with me?”

“We wanted you to seal the truce,” he said, sighing. “Nothing horrible. If you fell for me and I was your old man, that’d be motivation for your dad to push peace between the clubs. He might not be a national officer, but he’s a major power broker.”

I studied his face, confused.

“Your big plan was I’d become your old lady?” I asked. “How was this supposed to play out long term? What was the exit strategy, or were you just planning to dump me once the cartel was beat back?”

He frowned.

“No,” he said. “I planned on you being my old lady.”

I shook my head, starting to get pissed off again.

“You said there was nothing real between us,” I snapped. “You made it pretty damned clear, actually. You were just playing me the whole time.”

“No, I said I wanted to fuck you,” he replied. “I hate to crap on all your fairy-tale fantasies, but you don’t have to love a woman to make her your property. Hell, I already told you I don’t believe in love. But you know what club life is like, you’ve got good connections. We’d have done okay—more than most couples have going for them. I was lookin’ forward to it, to be honest. The fact that you’re smart and I like talkin’ to you didn’t exactly hurt, either.”

“And were you ever planning to fill me in on this? Or just romance me and use me?”

He didn’t answer.

“I need a minute,” I said, overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to think. Clearly, Hunter was an even bigger asshole than I’d imagined, which was impressive, considering his track record. I felt him stand up, and then the bed sank next to me and his arm came around my shoulder. I threw it off as water filled my eyes. Shit. I hate crying and the last thing I needed was to show him how much power he had to hurt me.

Unfortunately, my nose betrayed me and I sniffed.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and then he grabbed me, pulling me up and onto his lap as he leaned back against the headboard. His arms came around me and he pressed my head to his chest. I burst into tears. It felt good. Cathartic. Everything had fallen to shit and yet, for reasons I couldn’t quite fathom, having him hold me felt good.

Eventually the crying storm died down, and I forced myself to pull it together. So I had a moment of weakness. It happens. Didn’t mean I was going to give him any information about my dad or my club. No matter how nice it felt to have his hand rubbing my back softly.

Finally I spoke.

“So you’re seriously telling me you were prepared to be my old man indefinitely, all to get my dad behind this truce?”

“No.”

I sat up and turned toward him.

“Could you be more confusing?”

“I was prepared to take you as my old lady so I could fuck you whenever I wanted, keep you around, maybe make something together. I also needed to get your dad behind this truce. Multipurpose plan.”

“Are you crazy?”

He shrugged, eyes impossible to read.

“Burke wanted leverage and I wanted you. Have ever since I first saw you. We made a deal and that was the end of it, at least until Toke lost his shit. Now it’s all falling apart, which is why I’m heading out to meet your dad in ten minutes. I’m not just trying to save Clutch, I’m trying to save all our asses. I wish to fuck you’d give me something to work with.”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know anything, Hunter,” I said carefully. “But you got one thing right—I know what club life is like. And that’s why I’d never tell you shit, even if I knew anything.”

He smiled at me. Actually smiled, proving my theory that he was batshit insane.

“Fuck, I knew you’d make a good old lady. A woman who knows how to keep her mouth shut.”

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine, because he hadn’t fucked with my head enough already. I tried ignoring him, but he nibbled just right and this wasn’t like our other kisses—it wasn’t desperate and wild and fueled by adrenaline. Nope, this was just sweet and beautiful and perfect. Here was the Liam I thought I’d known before … How was this the same guy who’d taken those horrible pictures of me?

I sucked his lower lip into my mouth and he groaned. Then he pulled away and leaned his forehead against mine.

“You really want to catch my dad’s attention, take me and Sophie with you,” I whispered. “Give us back.”

“Then I’ll end up dead.”

I pulled away.

“Liam, you’re gonna end up dead anyway,” I whispered. “But if you bring us back, I promise I’ll fight for you. Tell them why you did it, explain what’s going on.”

“We’re all dying, babe,” he said. “Some faster than others. But I’m not giving up. It doesn’t matter if Toke was acting under orders or not, he’s still wearing Reaper colors. Your guy started it, and unlike him, we aren’t shooting yet. There’s still time to save the situation.”

I pulled away.

“Take me back to Sophie?”

He sighed.

“Sure.”

My talk with Hunter left me confused as hell.

It was shitty to learn he’d plotted out my future without even considering what I wanted. And he still insisted caring had nothing to do with our relationship.

I wasn’t sure I believed him, though. In fact, I didn’t. He definitely cared about me. I knew it. Maybe not in a romantic, lovey kind of way. But he’d held me while I cried, and that kiss had been sweet and gentle. Not about sex at all. My cynical brain told me it was just one more attempt to get me to soften up and give him information.

But he hadn’t asked me for anything after he kissed me.

It felt more like a good-bye.

Shit.

I glanced over at Sophie. We were stuck together on the bed again, each of us cuffed to the top by one hand. She didn’t ask me what had happened while I was gone with Liam, which I appreciated. No way I wanted to explain that one.

“He’s going to go meet with Dad,” I told her.

“Why?”

“I think he’s trying to save the situation. I think he actually cares about me, Soph.”

She looked at me like I’d gone nuts.

“You can’t be serious. He wants to screw you—I get that, he’s a guy and you’re hot. But a man who cares about a woman doesn’t kidnap her.”

The roar of a Harley outside the house cut the air, and we heard the sound of someone riding away. Hunter leaving.

“If I get away and Dad finds out I’m safe, he’ll kill him for sure.”

The thought made me sad. Yes, he was a dick. And he was definitely a liar and a user and worst of all, a Devil’s Jack.

That kiss, though …

“Don’t you dare have second thoughts,” Sophie hissed, seeing through me. “This guy is dangerous and we’re going to get seriously hurt if we stay here. We’re going to escape. In fact, we’re going to escape soon.”

“I know. I just wish—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped, sounding angry with me for the first time. I suppose I had that coming. I was determined, though. I wouldn’t fail her again. I’d get us out of here and I’d get her home safe to her boy, no matter what it took. I wasn’t just any twenty-two-year-old girl—I was a Reaper’s daughter, and Sophie was part of my family through Ruger. She was my sister and my responsibility.

I wasn’t going to let anything fuck up this escape, especially not a man.

Not even a really cute one.

We gave it an hour before making our move. I pulled out the little Leatherman multitool I’d stolen from him and picked our locks in under five minutes. Once we were both loose, we snuck over to the window to look outside.

What we saw wasn’t encouraging.

The house was in the middle of nowhere. There were scruffy shrubs all around, but nothing big enough to hide a person. The few scraggly pine trees weren’t much better. At least there weren’t a bunch of bikes parked out there—no reason to believe there was anyone besides Skid in the house. It was better than nothing.

“If he chases us, we don’t have a chance,” Sophie murmured, looking spooked.

“He won’t chase us,” I told her firmly. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’re going to sneak downstairs. We’ll figure out where he is, then you go out one side of the house and I’ll go out the other. I can see a back door from here.”

“And if he sees us?”

“Whoever he sees has to slow him down long enough for the other one to get away and find help,” I said, holding her gaze. I tried to impress my confidence on her, my belief that she could do what needed to be done. “No matter what it takes. And I’m going to be the one closest to him.”

“Why?”

“Because you have a kid. All other issues aside, Noah needs you and nobody needs me.”

That was unfortunately the truth, as much as it hurt to say it. Sure, my dad loved me, but I wasn’t a mother.

“Your family, the whole club, they all need you!” she protested.

“You know I’m right,” I said flatly, thinking of Noah’s little face. I’d only met him once, but he was a great kid. A kid who deserved a mother. I’d lost mine in high school and I’d be damned if I’d let it happen to Sophie’s boy. “Don’t even try to be noble here or something. If only one of us gets out, it’s you. Let’s not fight about it, okay?”

She nodded, still looking nervous but also more determined.

“Okay, promise me one thing,” she said. “You need to seriously try to get away. Don’t let yourself get caught or something just because you want to keep Hunter safe.”

I scowled at her. I wouldn’t do that … would I? No. Definitely not. I wasn’t stupid enough to throw away our safety just because some asshole kissed me.

Oh wait—that’s what got us into this in the first place. Ugghh …

“Might as well go now,” I said, feeling a little deflated. “I’ll keep the knife, unless you know how to use it?”

“You mean to fight?” she asked, looking startled. I bit back a wildly inappropriate laugh. “Um, no. I didn’t take knife-fighting class in school. You can keep it.”

This time I did laugh.

We crept down the hallway together, pausing at the top of the stairs, my fuck-me heels clutched in my hand. They wouldn’t be much good for running, unfortunately. Not to mention the unholy racket they’d make on a wooden floor. At least Sophie had somewhat sensible shoes on, little fake boots with soft soles. I could hear Skid in the living room, either watching TV or playing video games. Hopefully the latter, since that would be more distracting.

“I’ll go down the stairs first,” I whispered. “Then I’ll wave you on. Be ready to go whatever direction I point you, based on where I see him. If I point back at the bedroom, go up and get yourself back into your handcuffs, okay? If I wave you on, that’s it. We’ll only get one shot, so don’t fuck it up. I’m counting on you to send help for me if I have to distract him.”

“I can do it,” she whispered back. “Let’s both get out, though, okay?”

I nodded at Sophie and started down very slowly. When I reached the bottom, I peeked around the side of the stairwell. Skid sat on the couch, facing away from us. Some sort of loud game filled a giant, flatscreen TV, the sounds of shots echoing around the room.

Perfect.

I touched Sophie’s hand. Then I pointed at myself and the front door. That was the route I’d take. I pointed at her and toward the back of the house.

She nodded tightly, her face determined.

Okay. Time to do it.

I held up three fingers and then counted down. Two. One.

Sophie slipped past me, walking quickly through the living room and into the back hallway.

Skid didn’t even pause in his shooting.

Holy shit. She’d done it. I decided to wait a few minutes before trying for the front door. Instead I studied it, and that’s when the plan started falling apart.

It had three locks, including two deadbolts.

Would I really be able to open those without making any noise? Probably not. Time to change it up … I’d wait a little longer and then go to the back.

But not until I was sure Sophie had a good head start.

Unfortunately, Skid turned off the video, set down the controller, and stood, stretching. Then he casually strolled over to the window and looked outside.

Sophie had shit luck, because she ran right past him.

I pulled out the Leatherman, flipped open the knife, and stepped out of the stairwell. Skid grabbed a gun off the coffee table and looked up to see me right as I launched myself toward him. I didn’t have any illusions that I could take him. I just needed to buy Sophie enough time to get away.

You know, I think I could’ve pulled it off if I’d had decent shoes I could run in.

Unfortunately, right as I launched myself toward him, my bare toe caught on my pant leg and I fell down heavily. The knife slid away from me, under the couch. I dropped the heels with a clatter.

Seriously?

Then Skid was standing over me, gun pointed at my head. Well, crap. Dad would definitely be disappointed in this particular performance … And Kit? She’d kick Skid’s ass just to clear a path to kick mine for being so uncoordinated. The worst part was I hadn’t even bought much time for Sophie.

If I survived, I was never wearing high heels again.

I stared up at Skid towering over me, trying to guess my next move. He didn’t seem too happy, which was fine with me. I wasn’t very happy, either. Somehow, I had to find some way to slow him down or Sophie was toast. I’d love to say that I was utterly selfless in my resolve to sacrifice myself for a friend, but in reality, she was my best shot at a rescue now that I’d been seen.

In the movies, this is where I would have slinked back, fluttered my eyelashes, and used the power of my sexuality to distract him. But frankly, my sexuality hadn’t been bringing great things into my life lately. I didn’t quite trust my instincts in that arena.

But my teeth? Those I trusted.

I pushed off from the stairwell wall with my feet, sliding across the wooden floor toward Skid like a missile, hoping to hell he wouldn’t actually shoot. My hands caught his ankle, shoving up his pant leg so I could lock my jaws around his flesh.

“Fuck!” he yelled as my teeth sank in. “You fucking cunt!”

I ignored him, biting down harder. He started kicking at me, and I held on tight, sliding back and forth across the floor as he thrashed his leg. I heard the gun cock but I ignored it. I might be fucked, but Sophie wasn’t. Utter determination took over and my brain held one thought, and one thought only.

Keep biting Skid’s leg.

That’s why I didn’t even notice when he pointed his weapon. The loud crack of a gunshot broke through my fog, but I didn’t feel any pain.

Huh. Must’ve missed me.

Blood filled my mouth as I dug deeper, wondering if I could sever his tendon if I tried hard enough. Probably not, I’d need to rip at him to make that happen …

That’s when he shot again, and this time I definitely felt pain.

Holy shit.

I’d never experienced anything like the trail of fire that ran across my thigh. Agony. At first I couldn’t get my jaw to unlock. Then he kicked again and I went flying, slamming into the wall with a scream. I lay there, stunned, watching blood seeping out of my leg.

Wait.

BLOOD WAS LEAKING OUT OF MY LEG.

I slapped my hands down, pressing hard against the wound in my upper thigh. That felt just as fabulous as you might imagine. Shit. Holy shit. Sweet baby Jesus!

“You shot me,” I whispered, stunned. Why this was such a surprise, I don’t know. Skid glared down and shook his head.

“What did you expect, you stupid fucking bitch? You fucking bit me. Christ, do you know how dirty a human mouth is? I’ll probably get sepsis.”

“Oh, I’m so fucking sorry that your ankle hurts,” I growled, my vision blurring. “I’d kiss it all better if I wasn’t busy trying to keep the blood inside my body!”

He raised the gun and pointed it right at me.

“What the fuck Hunter sees in you I cannot imagine,” he told me. “But listen up. You got one pass. You fuck with me again, I’ll shoot you in the head and tell him you made me do it. I’ll sleep like a baby afterward, too. Got me?”

I nodded, remembering a little too late that I shouldn’t be pissing off the guy with a gun.

That’s when the doorbell rang.

Chapter Seven

Skid and I looked at each other.

“Keep your fucking mouth closed,” he hissed. That sent a surge of hope through me. He wasn’t expecting anyone … Rescuers? If it was Reapers, great. But what if it was some random person, or a kid? My thoughts started spinning … Skid could kill them.

I couldn’t just lie here like a lump, bleeding. I had to do something.

“Who’s out there?” he yelled.

Nothing.

The doorbell rang again.

“Fuck off!” he yelled, turning toward the door. I lunged at his knees from behind, hoping to knock him down. Miraculously, he crashed to the floor, dropping the gun. We wrestled over it briefly as the doorbell started ringing again, over and over. I was nowhere near as strong as Skid, so it wasn’t a huge surprise when he shoved me away and got to his feet. My head hit the wall, sending sickening waves of pain down along my spine.

“You are fucking dead if you make a noise, cunt. I’m through with you,” Skid hissed.

He stomped to the door, beyond furious. Then he threw it open and Sophie smashed a wooden chair over his head.

Wow, didn’t see that coming.

I jumped up as his gun fired, adrenaline killing the pain in my leg and skull. The chair crashed into him again. Skid roared and lunged forward. I knew this was it—either we’d win or we’d die. I attacked him from behind, throwing myself on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck and jerking him backward with my full weight. He staggered as I bit his ear, worrying at it like a dog.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sophie grab another chair and go for his legs.

This definitely wasn’t the plan.

No time to worry about that now. Skid screamed as he staggered forward, falling off the porch face-first into the dirt. I rode him down and then Sophie was there, kicking him over and over. He managed to roll to the side, which was a huge mistake, because it gave her a clear shot at his crotch.

She attacked his balls viciously, and his screeching cries of pain filled the air. That didn’t slow her down in the least. Over and over she kicked him, her face twisted with hate. He stopped struggling, and I realized he’d passed out.

I don’t know if it was from pain or if I’d managed to cut off his air. Sophie grabbed the gun, handing it off to me. I pointed it at Skid’s bloodied body, panting.

“Go upstairs and grab the cuffs,” I managed to say. “We’ll get him tied up and then call for help.”

Sophie took off, and I held the gun on him the whole time she was gone, hoping like hell he wouldn’t wake up. I was prepared to shoot—but that didn’t mean I wanted to …

It wasn’t because I was scared to kill another human being. Of course, the thought sickened me. But I couldn’t stop thinking about my talk with Liam, and everything he’d said about the truce and the cartel. Maybe he’d been lying to me—I certainly wouldn’t put it past him … But what if he’d been telling the truth? If he was, killing Skid would ruin the peace and sooner or later the cartel would come after the Reapers.

We needed him alive.

Sophie returned with the cuffs. Strangely, she also had a bedsheet and a knife from the kitchen. Together we wrestled Skid’s limp body over to the porch pillar and fastened his hands around it.

I felt the tension in my chest loosen, and I looked up at Sophie and grinned.

“You don’t listen very well when you’re told to run, do you?”

She smirked.

“I guess not,” she said. “I heard the shot and knew you were in trouble. I just couldn’t leave you—it didn’t feel right.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I think you might’ve saved my life. Not sure if he would’ve killed me or not.”

She held up the sheet.

“You want me to bandage that leg up for you?” she asked. I looked down at my leg. Sure enough, blood still oozed out, although not much of it at this point. Damned if I hadn’t forgotten about it during the fight. God bless adrenaline.

Everything immediately started hurting again.

“Yeah, might be a good idea,” I said. “Obviously it’s not life threatening, but wow … I can’t believe I got shot.”

She glanced at me and cocked her head.

“Can I ask a crazy question?”

“Sure,” I replied. “I think we’re past being formal with each other at this point.”

“How often does this happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“How often do people get kidnapped, or shot, or whatever? In the club, I mean.”

My eyes widened.

“Um, never?” I said. “I mean, I’m sure men have gotten shot. But not anyone in our chapter, at least not that I know of. Not related to the club, at least. One of the brothers, Bagger, died in Afghanistan last year. But seriously, this is not normal shit.”

She sighed and used the knife to cut the edge of the sheet. Then she tore it into a long strip and started wrapping my leg.

“Glad to hear that,” she murmured, frowning. “But even this is too much. I can’t take this. Noah can’t have this in his life.”

“Well, now isn’t the time to try and figure all that out,” I said, trying to calm her down. I could see a hint of crazy in her eyes, a delayed reaction now that we were safe. I didn’t want her melting down on me, at least not until we got out of here.

“I need to find his phone,” I said to distract her. “Got to call Dad, get him out here. For all we know, there’s fifty Devil’s Jacks on their way.”

Sophie shuddered, and then tears filled her eyes. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. I reached out to touch her, but she shrugged me off.

“Sorry,” she said. “You better tie the bandage. I don’t want to touch it after touching my nose.”

I laughed.

“Thanks. That’d be just my luck—I’d survive kidnapping and Skid, only to be taken out by nose cooties.”

She smiled at me, and then she started giggling. It had a bit of a hysterical note to it, but I figured she’d earned it.

I found Skid’s phone on the coffee table. Thankfully it was his personal phone, not one of the burners I’m sure they kept around for talking business. I turned it on and there was another stroke of luck—Skid didn’t have it password protected.

That was stupid of him.

I scrolled through it, looking at his messages. Nothing of interest. Looked like he’d been sexting with some girl named Kelsey the night before. Not club related, though. His email was protected. Oh, and there … perfect. Google Maps. I clicked on it and found us. The house was along the Spokane Valley, back in the hills. Maybe half an hour from Coeur d’Alene. Funny, it seemed like we should be farther away—this place felt like a whole different world. Of course, if they’d been using it as a base to spy on the Reapers, it couldn’t be too far.

I opened the phone app and started dialing my dad’s number.

Then I stopped.

It was just after two p.m., so Hunter was probably still meeting with the club. If I called right now, told them I was safe, would they kill him? My stomach clenched. Whatever else I felt about Hunter, I didn’t want him dead. How to protect him? I could wait to call … But I had no idea how long the meet would go, and if I waited too long, more Jacks might show up.

What if I warned him?

The thought was so startling that I had to sit down on the couch. If I warned him, he could get away. But would warning him count as betraying the club?

Yes.

Yes, it would. That would absolutely be a betrayal and I should be ashamed of myself for even considering it. But then I thought about his soft, brown hair matted with blood. His body buried in an unmarked grave up in the mountains …

I’d warn him for the same reason I was keeping Skid alive, I decided. That wasn’t a true betrayal, was it? Dad could always hunt him down later, but for now I should help preserve the peace.

It was enough of an excuse for me to do it. I dialed him quickly, before I changed my mind. There was a scraping noise from the porch, and I looked through the window to see Sophie dragging over a chair to sit on. Would she ever forgive the Reapers for getting her into this? Poor Ruger. He was already in a weird spot with her, and this wouldn’t help.

“Skid?” Hunter asked, his voice tense. “I’m in the meet. Just got word, they found Toke. Clutch is alive but he’s in rough shape.”

“This isn’t Skid,” I said quietly, heart pounding. “If you want to live, you need to keep your face blank and listen to what I say.”

Brief silence.

“I hear you.”

“Sophie and I are in charge at the house now. Skid is alive, but he won’t stay that way if anyone tries to get us before Dad picks up. If you have any friends you’re planning to call, don’t. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“As soon as I hang up with you, I’m going to take ten minutes to go to the bathroom and clean up some scrapes I have,” I continued. “Then I’m calling my dad and telling him everything. If you want to survive, you better be gone before then.”

More silence. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know,” I said. Crap. “To keep the peace. Just get out, okay?”

“Okay.”

I hung up the phone and walked over to the door, pushing it open.

“I’m going to go clean up in the bathroom for a few. You okay out here?”

She nodded.

“Leave the door open so you can hear me screaming if I need to.”

“You got it.”

I found a bathroom between the living room and the dining room. When I looked in the mirror, I had to laugh. I looked like a lunatic woman. My hair was all over, I had raccoon eyes, and a bruise was starting to rise on my cheek.

Oh, and Skid’s blood had run down my chin and dried there.

I thought it added a touch of class.

“Damn, you’re sexy,” I whispered, giggling. I washed up all my scrapes and found some toothpaste in a drawer. I used my finger to rub it all through my mouth, which still tasted like evil biker ankle. Ten minutes later I pulled on my ridiculous shoes and hobbled out of the house toward Sophie, holding up the phone.

“Dumbass has Google Maps installed,” I told her. “I know exactly where we are. I’m calling them to come and get us.”

“That’s good news,” she replied. “He hasn’t moved at all. Do you think he has internal injuries?”

I shrugged, because I really didn’t care. He was alive. That was good enough.

“If he does, there’s nothing we can do about it. We’ll let the guys take care of him.”

I dialed Dad’s number and he answered.

“Picnic.”

“Hey, Dad? It’s me,” I said, trying to hold it together. I realized my hand was shaking. Shock, maybe? My leg felt numb.

“Oh, Emmy,” he said, his voice full of relief. “Christ, I can’t believe it’s you. Are you all right? Fuck, that prick Hunter just left. Lucky bastard.”

Yeah, wasn’t gonna touch that comment.

“We’re okay,” I said. “Could use a ride, though.”

Dad laughed, incredulous.

“You’ve been kidnapped and that’s what you have to say for yourself? Did you escape? Where are you?”

“I’ll send you the map,” I told him. “There’s just one guy here, Skid. He’s a Devil’s Jack. We managed to beat him up and now he’s handcuffed to the porch.”

“Holy shit. Proud of you, girl. Any witnesses I should know about?”

“No, it’s all good,” I told him. “But you might want to bring the van. We may need some cargo space.”

I gave him the directions and hung up. I looked up to find Sophie watching me. She looked a little shocky, I decided, and the gun trembled in her hand. I’d take over guarding Skid in a minute, but I had one more thing to do first.

“They’ll be here in about twenty minutes,” I told her. “They sounded pretty happy to hear from us.”

“Was Hunter with them?” she asked.

I swallowed.

“No. The meet was already over. I guess we missed him by maybe five minutes. He’s got good luck.”

Sophie raised a brow and I met her gaze head-on, challenging her to question my story. She didn’t. I stepped off the porch and dropped the phone on the ground, stomping on it with my spiky heel. The glass shattered and crunched.

“What the hell?” Sophie demanded. “Why’d you do that?”

“GPS,” I said, which wasn’t true. I just didn’t want my dad to see that I’d called Hunter. “I don’t want the Devil’s Jacks tracing us with it, and we can’t leave it here.”

“What if we need it again?”

“We won’t. Dad and Ruger will find us. Don’t worry. By this time tomorrow it’ll be like this never happened. In fact, I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want to think about it. Got me?” I added pointedly.

“Got you,” she said, narrowing her eyes. I waited for her to say something else, but she didn’t. My opinion of her went up another notch. Whatever else she might not get about MC life, Sophie seemed to understand sisterhood.

Sometimes sisters need to shut their mouths and drop it.

This was definitely one of those times.

By the time Dad and the other brothers arrived, I was exhausted.

The adrenaline had faded and my entire body was sore and stiff. The little wrestling match with Skid hadn’t helped. Now I stood on the porch watching my father roll Skid’s body over with his foot. I was trying to play it cool, but all I really wanted was to crawl into his arms and sleep for a year. But I wasn’t a little girl anymore …

“He’s been bleeding, but not too bad,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “Don’t know if he’s passed out from a head injury or from shock. Sophie kicked his nuts to hell and back.”

Dad grunted, then stepped up onto the porch, holding out his hand for the gun I still gripped. I gave it to him and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.

Suddenly I felt safe again.

I looked down at the brothers filling the yard. Ruger. Horse. Duck … Painter. I’d never seen them looking so serious. Bam Bam, a big man who was married to my friend Dancer, studied Skid thoughtfully. My former crush stood next to him, eyes haunted. He looked different somehow. Older. It was attractive, I realized in a distant way. Huh.

“How we gonna play this?” Bam asked. I knew what he was really saying, of course. He wanted to know if they were going to get Skid medical help or put him in the ground. I braced myself and took a deep breath, knowing my work wasn’t done quite yet.

“Not in front of the girls,” Dad muttered, and I knew the answer. So far as Dad was concerned, Skid was already dead. “Ruger, you and Painter take them, get them safe. Call the medic. He can meet you at the clubhouse. We’ll clean up here.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t kill him. You do that, there’s going to be even more fighting.”

“This is about the club, Em,” my dad said quietly. Translation—Go home and be a good girl. Let the men do the thinking for you.

Suddenly I was sick of it.

I’d gotten kidnapped because of their bullshit, and I wasn’t even supposed to know why I’d nearly died. I’d gotten myself out of it, no thanks to them, and now I was expected to just nod and smile.

Fuck that.

I popped up on my toes and whispered in Dad’s ear.

“Hunter told me about the truce and the cartel. If you kill this guy, we’re all going to suffer. I know you’re pissed, Dad, but we have to think of the club. Please. Think of me and Kit—I don’t want to live in fear.”

He stiffened.

I pulled away, looking up at him, begging with my eyes. Don’t let your ego make this decision.

He shook his head, jaw rigid. Fuck. I crossed my arms and stepped back, my plea turning to a glare. How fucking typical—the king’s pride got hurt, so now we all have to go to war? If anyone gets to make the decision, it should be me and Sophie.

Dad held my eyes for long seconds, then sighed.

“Okay, we’ll take him with us and dump him somewhere he’ll be found,” he said. “See if you can find something to bandage him up with, Bam.”

Relief crashed through me. I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tight.

“You’re doing the right thing, Daddy,” I whispered.

“This was club business, baby girl. You shouldn’t be worrying about things so much. That’s my job.”

His words cut through me and I stiffened. I wasn’t a fucking baby to be handed a sucker and told to go play.

Wait, where had that come from?

Dad wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t said a thousand times before, but for some reason this time it really pissed me off. This is what it feels like to be Kit, I realized, suddenly understanding her need to rebel. Oh, I didn’t like this feeling. I didn’t like it one bit.

I glanced toward the brothers. Nobody was paying attention to us. Perfect.

“Daddy, I love you, but this stopped being club business when I got kidnapped and cuffed to a bed,” I said quietly, making sure my voice didn’t carry. “That made it my business. I’m still trying to figure out what happened and what it all means, but I have a right to worry about things that might destroy my life.”

He frowned at me.

“Let’s talk about it later, baby.”

Right. I knew that tone. “Later” meant “never.”

I sighed, because I’d gotten as far as I would for now. That was okay—this wasn’t the kind of conversation you have in front of an audience, anyway. I was determined, though. I wasn’t going to just slide back into life as usual.

Everything had changed.

I’d been raised to let the men in my life tell me what to do, and look what that’d gotten me. It’d been so easy to follow Hunter away from my friends and into that alley. I’d been so fucking naive. Blind.

Never again.

From now on, I’d be making my own decisions and Dad would just have to deal with it.

Chapter Eight

ONE WEEK LATER

I was right.

“We’ll talk later” meant “We won’t talk about it.”

To be fair, Dad wasn’t around much in the days following my rescue. He didn’t say where he was going, but I assumed he was off dealing with Toke and the Devil’s Jacks. I just hoped he hadn’t “dealt” with them permanently. Of course, I was expected to stay home and forget all about it.

That shit used to be okay. Not anymore.

Not that I would confront Dad directly or try to push my way into a club meeting to find out the real situation—nope, that wouldn’t accomplish anything, anyway. But it did confirm what I’d started to realize the day Sophie and I took down Skid. It was time for one Emmy Lou Hayes to get the hell out of Coeur d’Alene.

I needed to grow up and get a life.

Finding a place to go was the first challenge. I knew I could stay with Kit, but she only had a studio at school in Olympia. I didn’t think it was fair to put that kind of pressure on her. Nope, I wanted to find my own path. At least I had money saved … One advantage to living with my father was I didn’t really have many expenses. I’d already applied to that aesthetician’s program in Portland. It was a great school, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk being in the same city as Hunter. On the other hand, it was a city—not a village. Wasn’t like I’d see him around all the time. Hell, I’d probably never run into him at all.

I even knew where he lived, so I could be sure to avoid him.

(Okay, so I’d done a little online stalking of my own by now. I still had his wallet, which I suppose I should’ve felt guilty over. Instead I used his credit card to order some really cute lingerie. I didn’t spend enough to bankrupt him, but it was enough to make him suffer a little. Oh, and I sprang for gift wrapping and overnight delivery, because why not? Just because I’d saved his life didn’t mean I’d forgiven him for what he’d done.)

Unfortunately, ordering presents for myself online was the closest I could get to real shopping, because Dad put me on lockdown. And if that weren’t bad enough, Painter had appointed himself as my own personal guardian angel while Dad was gone. I couldn’t believe I used to crush on that guy—now all I saw when he walked into a room was a vision of him screwing some skank on a bathroom counter. Liam had been right. I definitely deserved better. Despite my hostility, Painter insisted on driving me to work every morning and meeting me for lunch. Then he’d drive me home and hang out at the house, spending the night on the couch or in Kit’s old bedroom.

To call this awkward was one hell of an understatement.

Thus I took to spending a lot of time in my room. That’s where I was on Friday night, exactly one week from the day I’d met Hunter for the first time. I had my TV on and I was playing around online when a private message popped up.

LIAM: Hey Em

I blinked. I’d blocked his ass. How the hell did he get through?

LIAM: Are you there?

I considered the little flashing message alert. Should I answer? What would I say? Direct confrontation, I decided. Call him on his shit, because seeing his message didn’t send a little thrill through me at all. No thrills allowed.

ME: How did you contact me? I blocked you.

LIAM: Probably best not to give up all my secrets. How are you?

ME: I’m great. Nobody took naked pictures of me without my consent today.

LIAM: Guess I had that coming. You wearing any of those panties you bought with my card?

I giggled, then managed to cut it off. Didn’t need Painter bursting in to check on me. And why was I laughing, anyway? Still … I wish I’d seen Hunter’s face when he realized I was spending his money.

ME: Yes. I’m wearing a midnight blue pushup bra and matching thong, because I’m getting ready to go out on a date. I like my new man a lot because he doesn’t kidnap people.

LIAM: A date? Pretty sure you’re stuck at home tonight with Painter. Please tell me you aren’t dating him? Hate me all you want, but you really can do better.

My breath caught. How did he know Painter was here?

ME: Are you stalking me again?

LIAM: Just tonight. I need to talk to you. Promise—last time—then I’ll leave you alone. You saved my life. Let me share what I know so you can stop worrying. I know your dad hasn’t filled you in, but you deserve answers.

I stared at the screen. How fucking stupid did he think I was? I should turn off the computer. But I was also curious … After all, I’d betrayed my club for this asshole. Now I wanted to hear what he had to say.

ME: So talk.

LIAM: Not online. Can you come outside?

I froze again. Shit. He couldn’t be serious, could he? I glanced at my window, relieved to see that the shade was tightly closed. Someone outside might be able to see that my light was on, but they wouldn’t be able to see inside.

ME: Why would I be stupid enough to do that?

LIAM: Because you’re curious. Bring a gun if it makes you feel better. But come outside and talk to me—I promise it’s safe. Don’t let Painter follow you, though. Last thing we need is another standoff.

Like hell I’d talk to him. I closed my computer and set it on the bed, grabbing the TV remote. Of course I wasn’t going outside. That would be incredibly stupid. I reached down and rubbed my leg lightly over the still-healing gash. Despite all the blood, Skid’s bullet hadn’t really caused any real damage—just a flesh wound. But even flesh wounds hurt like a bitch. I wondered if Hunter had ever been shot, and had the sudden urge to march out there and demonstrate to him just how painful a graze from a bullet could be.

I had excellent aim.

I flipped through the channels, trying to find a distraction. There was nothing on, of course. Just some creepy reality show about a woman who thought she was a squirrel. Life with Cara, or some such shit. My phone buzzed. Another message from Hunter …

LIAM: Come outside and see me. It’s safe. Remember—I only took you to save a brother’s life. I may have scared you, but I wouldn’t have actually hurt you. I know I destroyed what we were starting and I understand I can never fix it. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.

I dropped the phone and flopped back on my bed. The clock next to me said it was one in the morning. I should just turn off the light and go to sleep. That was what the old me would’ve done. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. We had been starting something—something good. Because despite everything between our clubs, I’d spent hours talking on the phone to this man, sharing jokes and telling stories. We’d laughed together and that hadn’t been fake.

Remembering all that pissed me off, too. He’d killed us, whatever the hell “us” had been growing into. He should pay for what he did. I got up and pulled on a pair of ratty sweatpants. A hoodie and my favorite pink Converse completed the outfit.

Yeah, I know. Sexy.

I had a flash of déjà vu as I tiptoed down the stairs past Painter, who was sleeping on the couch, TV still flickering in the darkness. I stopped off in the dining room, grabbing a tiny pistol from behind a plate in the china cabinet. It was full of stuff my mother had collected—stuff we never used but wouldn’t consider throwing away in a million years.

I gave it a quick check, making sure it was loaded (it was) and ready for action (damned straight). Then I tucked it in the pocket of my hoodie right next to my cell, and slipped out the back door. The moon was full, and as I walked away from the house, the night’s beauty startled me. There were crickets singing all around, and while the stars were faint in the bright moonlight, they were everywhere.

Keeping my eyes sharp, I looked around carefully. No sign of anyone, but I knew just how sneaky Hunter and Skid could be. My hand tightened on the gun. Now what?

My phone buzzed again.

LIAM: I’m out behind the bunkhouse

I glanced up, spotting the small building nestled back in the trees. Once upon a time it housed workers on the ranch that used to surround us. The land had been divided up and sold off years ago, but the old outbuildings still stood. Kit and I used it as a playhouse, and now it was full of random junk my dad had collected over the years. I fingered the gun again, the slight pain in my leg a constant reminder that this asshole had gotten me shot. Time for payback?

I couldn’t quite decide.

HUNTER

I heard Em before I saw her. She stumbled over something in the darkness and started cussing. Cute. Then she peeked around the corner of the building, her face shadowed and unreadable.

“Back here,” I called softly. I sat leaning against the wall, holding my hands up so she could see for herself I wasn’t up to anything.

For once in my life, I wasn’t.

Go figure.

I just wanted to see how she was and make sure she knew about the truce. No, that was a flat-out lie. I just wanted to see her. Period. For all I knew she was about to shoot me, and I couldn’t really blame her if she did. Didn’t change how bad I needed to be near her, even if it was just so she could hate me in person.

Not only that, I didn’t trust Hayes to fill her in on the changing situation. She shouldn’t have to live in fear for the next year, wondering if the Jacks were out for revenge. Not that Skid was her number one fan … But he wanted the truce as much as the rest of us, not to mention she’d kept her club from killing him. He’d been drifting in and out of consciousness at the time, but he remembered that part.

Unfortunately, the Jacks’s leadership was still up in the air. Our current president, Mason, had rallied. Now the doctors said he had a few more months. I thought we should just get the elections over with while we had the votes, but Burke was holding off. He felt like he couldn’t really count on the full support of the club while Toke was still alive.

He was probably right about that.

The good news about the situation was that Clutch was expected to make a full recovery—eventually—despite the fact that Toke had taken a baseball bat to his leg. In the end, it hadn’t been either MC that found him. Some Good Samaritan heard him moaning through a hotel room wall and called the cops. They’d come bursting in to save Clutch and they’d caught Toke when he came back to the room with food.

“Liam?” Em called, her voice cool in the darkness. Christ, I loved the way she said my name. Nobody else called me Liam, it felt like something special, just from her. Went straight to my cock, which wasn’t so good because tonight wasn’t about getting her naked. Chances were, that’d never happen again.

“Over here,” I called softly. She walked toward me, pulling out a small gun and pointing it at me. Of course she’d taken me up on my suggestion. The fucking thing looked like a toy.

I’d bet my bike it wasn’t.

“Did you like the presents I got you?” I asked.

She looked blank.

“The shit you bought with my credit card,” I continued, cocking a brow. I still couldn’t believe she’d picked my pocket. Pissed me off, but I had to admire her for it. “I shut it down, by the way. No more shopping.”

She smiled and a wave of lust smacked straight through me. Fuck, I’d forgotten how beautiful she was. I really, really wanted that beauty wrapped around my dick, screaming my name. How did she do that to me? A cunt was a cunt, but not Em … Christ. Unsexy thoughts, I told myself. Slugs. Athlete’s foot. Skid.

“Sorry,” she said lightly, in a tone that clearly wasn’t sorry at all. “I suppose you could report me to the cops.”

I had to smile. Cops. Yup, that was unsexy enough to do the trick.

“I guess you earned it,” I admitted.

“Oh, I earned more than that,” she said, the gun unwavering. “You kidnapped me, you fucked me over, and then you took pictures of me naked. Gonna take more than pretty panties to make that right.”

“I’ll concede the point,” I said, considering the photos. I might regret everything else, but damned if I’d regret those. “Anything I can do to make it up to you? More shit from Victoria’s Secret sounds perfect to me, but I’m open to suggestions.”

“You know, I’ve given this quite a bit of thought over the past week, and I keep coming back to one idea … How about I shoot you in the balls? Payback seems only fair, right?”

My eyes widened. Em laughed, the sound delicate in the darkness. Then she shook the gun at me like a little finger “tsking” me for being too loud in a library.

“Hey, you asked,” she said. “I’m going back inside now.”

“No, stop,” I said quickly, holding up a hand. “I have shit to tell you. About the situation between our clubs.”

She frowned.

“Why should I trust you?”

I shrugged.

“You don’t have to trust me,” I said. “But I owe you my life. Thanks for that phone call, by the way.”

She flinched.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, well, assuming you had done something for me—theoretically, of course—I’d want you to know how much I appreciated it,” I said softly. “I’d also want to tell you what’s happening with the truce, maybe make sure you know you’re safe now.”

I reached toward my pocket. She straightened her arms into a shooting stance.

“I’m just grabbing some weed,” I told her. “Been a hell of a week, could use a smoke. You want some?”

She shook her head, but when I pulled out the joint, I saw her relax a little.

“Go ahead, sit down,” I told her. “Keep your gun on me if it makes you happy. But I’d rather you didn’t. Knowing my luck, a spider will fall on you or something and the fuckin’ thing will go off.”

“Sexist much?” she asked, frowning. “Poor little Em, scared of spiders. Can’t handle her gun. Afraid I won’t remember which end goes bang?”

I started laughing. In fact, I laughed so hard that I couldn’t talk at first. She glared at me the whole time, but she also lowered the pistol.

“Babe, I nearly shot Skid in the ass one time because a spider fell on me while I was holding a gun,” I finally managed to say. “Those things freak me right the hell out. They got eight fuckin’ legs, and that ain’t natural. That’s some Dr. Seuss shit right there.”

She cocked her head at me and a smile crept across her face.

“It’s really hard to take you seriously when you’re afraid of spiders and Dr. Seuss,” she murmured. Damn, I loved the sound of her voice. If I ever found myself alone with Toke, I’d be killing him with my bare hands. Not because of what he did to Clutch—no, I owed the bastard for ruining my chance to fuck this gorgeous girl.

“So, what’s the proper, Devil’s Jacks–approved policy regarding scary spiders and children’s books?” she asked lightly. “Do your bylaws stipulate extra points for making more than one reference in a conversation? ’Cause I’m not really a Dr. Seuss fan.”

I stared at her, startled.

“Em, you gotta be a fuckin’ communist, you don’t like Dr. Seuss. Jesus.”

She started laughing and relaxed her stance. The gun was still out, but she came over and sat down about six feet away from me, back to the bunkhouse wall. I lit up and took a hit, feeling the harsh smoke slide down my throat and into my lungs. I wasn’t a huge stoner, but I figured I’d earned a little relaxation.

“So what did you want to tell me?” she asked. I took another hit, then let my arms rest on my knees.

“Well, the cops caught Toke,” I said. “You probably knew that.”

“Nope,” she muttered. “I’d guessed things were settling down, seeing as we’re not at war, but nobody confirmed it for me.”

“You sound a little tense. Sure you don’t want some?”

“No. I want to shoot you in the balls.”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned that,” I said slowly. “I’m startin’ to think it’s not a joke?”

She smiled at me. Not a nice smile.

“Nope. Not a joke. Like I said, I’ve been thinking about this all week. Just because I’m not screaming and yelling doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.”

I studied her face, trying to decide how to play this out. I took another long drag, enjoying the cloudy feeling in my head.

To this day, that’s the only explanation I’ve got for what I did next.

“Okay, let’s compromise,” I said, standing slowly. “No shooting, but you can kick me if it means you’ll forgive me? I get that it’s over between us, but I don’t want you hating me. It’s important.”

The whites of her eyes grew huge in the moonlight.

“Are you serious?” she asked, scrambling to her feet.

I shrugged.

“I know I’ve earned it,” I admitted. “Probably earned more. Just do it and get it over with. Before I change my mind.”

I took one last inhale and then tossed the joint into the dirt. I think some part of me didn’t actually believe she’d follow through … I mean, in a movie she’d be overcome by the gesture and fling herself into my arms.

But Em? Not so much.

She straight-up kicked me in the balls, her pink Converse hitting me hard. Damn fucking hard. Agony erupted in my crotch, and I fell to the ground, biting my lip to keep from whimpering like a baby. Christ, what a bitch. Then she made it worse, because she laughed at me.

“Wow, that felt really good.”

“Jesus, I can’t believe you did that,” I grunted, stars still exploding behind my eyes. It was all I could do to keep breathing. Couldn’t fucking believe she actually did it. And I let her. I should’ve just asked the nice asshole Reaper inside to shoot me and be done with it.

After a few minutes, I managed to pull myself up. Em was sitting against the wall, calmly smoking my joint, gun propped up on her knee. Would’ve been kind of sexy if I had even the slightest capacity for anything but excruciating pain in my groin.

On the bright side, I didn’t have to worry about an inconvenient hard-on for once.

“Oh, I’m thinking about doing something even more fun,” Em said sweetly. “It’s so sweet to see you rolling around in pain that I’m reconsidering shooting you.”

She lifted the pistol and pointed it straight at me.

Fuck. I had seriously misjudged this situation. She held my gaze for long seconds, taking another slow drag and blowing out a smoke ring. A fucking smoke ring. Somewhere in the back of my head, I heard the theme from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly playing.

Liam “Hunter” Blake was about to be shot dead by a cliche.

Then Em burst out laughing. “The look on your face right now is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m never letting you scare me again.”

I sagged in relief as she let her weapon drop, then held the joint out to me. I sucked it down, hoping to kill some of my adrenaline.

“You’re a scary little bitch when you want to be,” I muttered. “Christ, Em. You need to stop playing with guns.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said. “So tell me whatever it was you came here to say.”

I shook my head slowly, trying to think. Kind of hard to focus between the pain, the adrenaline, and the weird, surreal sense of pride I felt in her.

She’d make an amazingly unholy old lady.

“Toke’s in protective custody in the Clackamas County Jail right now,” I said slowly. “Nobody’s talked to him. I guess if the Reapers made contact, they aren’t telling us. They have a lot more to lose than we do.”

“How about your friends?” she asked. “The ones he shot up?”

“All good. I mean, they definitely got hurt, and Clutch has some rehab ahead of him. Your guy did a number on him—”

“Not my guy,” she broke in. “He sliced me open, remember?”

Oh, I remembered. I’d never forget the sight of her half naked, her fantastic tits right in front of me just begging to be touched. My dick twitched and I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. That was good news … Glad to know all the plumbing still worked.

“So what happened between the clubs?” she asked. “Truce in effect again?”

“Yup,” I said. “Picnic and Burke hammered it out. I don’t know what you told your dad, but he helped push it through. Good news for all of us. Means we can get back to riding and living instead of fighting with each other. You see a Jack, you don’t need to be scared of him.”

“Yeah, that is good news.”

Silence fell between us, and Em scooted a little closer to pass me the joint. Slowly I relaxed, considering Em’s little demonstration of force. I still felt the occasional twinge of pain, but the more I thought about it, the funnier the situation was.

“You fucking kicked me in the balls,” I said, looking up at the sky.

“Yup. Enjoyed it, too.”

“Maybe you don’t realize this, but usually people try pretty hard not to piss me off. Bad things happen when I get pissed off.”

“Bad things happen when I get pissed off, too. You might want to remember that.”

I snorted, a reluctant smile crossing my face. We sat in silence for a while longer, the evening air just cool enough that I wished I had a blanket. Or Em’s warm body up against mine. After a while I scooted down, lying back in the grass and looking up at the stars. For once I wasn’t totally preoccupied with sex around her, which was kind of nice.

“It’s really pretty out here,” I said finally. “You’re lucky you grew up in a place like this.”

I heard her moving, and then she was lying in the grass next to me. Not too close—we weren’t touching. But close enough I could smell that unique, flowery scent that seemed to follow her everywhere.

“Where did you grow up?” she asked.

“Hell,” I said shortly.

Silence fell again.

“I miss you, Em.”

She didn’t answer. I yawned as something dark flew over us, followed by a second shadow.

“What are those?” I asked.

“Bats.”

“No shit?”

She laughed.

“Yeah, I’m lying to you about the bats, Liam.”

Christ, I loved hearing my name from her lips. Without thinking, I reached out and caught her, pulling her over and into me. She stiffened.

“Relax,” I whispered. “You’re safe.”

She pulled away for an instant, then sighed and nestled her head against my shoulder, slowly relaxing. Just holding her in the darkness kicked ass.

“You know, you were wrong about something,” she said after a while.

“What’s that?”

“I’d make a shitty old lady.”

“How do you figure?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, among other things, I have a habit of warning my club’s enemies so they can get away before they’re killed,” she said slowly. “You won’t tell anyone about that, will you? Dad would never forgive me.”

“Of course not,” I said, my voice firm. “You saved my fuckin’ life. I wouldn’t do that to you. Hell, I don’t want to do anything to hurt you. Should’ve stayed away tonight, but I wanted you to know it was all over.”

Bullshit. I wanted to see her. Touch her. Smell her hair.

“It’s hard to know what you’d do,” Em said. “You taught me an important lesson—you can’t trust guys you meet online, remember?”

I winced.

“Yeah, about that … I’m sorry. It was a dick move.”

“But you were cool with romancing me and using me to manipulate my father in the first place?”

“Well, to be fair I did it to get laid, too. Wasn’t all business.”

She gave a little snort. Not an angry snort, more of a snuffly, surprised laugh that caught her off guard.

“Are you going to erase those pictures?” she asked, finally, her voice sobering. “I don’t want them out there. You owe me—I saved your ass, I saved Skid, and I saved this precious truce of yours.”

She made a good point. But there was no way I’d erase those pictures. Fuckin’ crown jewels in my spank bank.

“I’ll get rid of them,” I lied. Shit, if that was the worst one I told today, it’d be a damned record.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? For all I know, you’ve emailed them to your whole club already.”

“Naw, if I’d done that, it would’ve made the rounds of your club, too,” I told her. “No way my brothers would be able to resist sending them to your dad. I’ll take care of it. You never have to worry about seeing them again, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, her voice drifting. She was falling asleep, I realized. I held perfectly still. After a few minutes I heard a very soft, very feminine little snore.

Note to self: Pot knocks Em on her ass.

I smirked, and then it faded because not like I’d have a chance to use that information. Pretty sure I wouldn’t be seeing her again after tonight. Hell, best-case scenario, the peace would hold and I’d see her across a campfire in a few years at some kind of gathering between the clubs. She’d have an old man by then … I’d just have to deal.

Unless it was that cocksucker Painter. I didn’t like that guy.

My last thought before I fell asleep was that if I ever saw him with Em, I’d have to kill him.

Just no escaping it.

EM

The birds woke me up. I was freezing cold on my right side, which seemed to be resting on … the ground? My back was warm, though, and a man’s arm lay heavy over my body.

What the fuck?

Then it came to me.

Liam. Hunter. Whatever the hell his name was. He’d met me outside last night. I’d kicked him in the balls, and the memory warmed me immediately. Then we’d talked and smoked and it hadn’t been bad at all. Shit. That’d probably been stupid. But even with the ground all cold and damp beneath me, I felt fantastic cradled in his arms. His bicep made a hell of a nice pillow.

Ewww. I’d drooled on him.

I felt carefully in my pocket and pulled out my phone. Five thirty in the morning. I needed to get back inside, I realized. Not that Painter was my boss or anything, but he was a damned good spy for my father. I slid out from under Hunter’s arm carefully, then stood over him, taking him in one last time. Like so many people, sleep made him look young and innocent. Sure, he was still a big man made up of strong muscles and sharp angles, but his face had softened. Dark stubble covered his chin, and his near-black hair flopped forward over his eyes.

He wore his Devil’s Jack cut, too—the first time I’d seen it.

It looked good on him, I decided. Of course, everything looked good on him. He was such a beautiful son of a bitch, I thought wistfully, and now I’d probably never see him again. I couldn’t help but wonder what could’ve been.

Pulling out my phone, I took a couple quick pictures, figuring he’d done far worse to me. Then I walked carefully around the side of the bunkhouse and back to the house. I felt like a teenager sneaking inside after a date, a more accurate analogy than I’d realized because Dad’s bike was parked in the driveway. Sometime in the night he’d come home, although how I’d missed the sound of his big black Harley I couldn’t imagine.

Oh yeah. I’d been stoned off my ass. Oops.

I opened the door carefully. Then I snuck past Painter and climbed the stairs. I pulled out the phone and the gun, setting them on my bedside table before crawling under the covers. On Monday I’d give the folks at the aesthetician’s program a call, I decided. Follow up, see what they’d think of me coming to Portland for classes when the next quarter started.

It was a city, after all. Not like I’d ever see Liam at all.