Devil's Game

Chapter Nine

SIX WEEKS LATER

COEUR D’ALENE, IDAHO

EM

I considered the playlist I’d put together on my phone, and smiled.

Then I hit play on the stereo system’s control app.

Bass filled the front of the house, rattling the windows. Dad’s room was in the addition off the back, so it wouldn’t be too loud in there. Just loud enough to make a hangover much, much worse, if you were unfortunate enough to have one.

Odds were whoever came home with him last night—giggling hysterically, because the endless sex noises weren’t quite annoying enough—had a hangover and a half. It’d been the club’s Halloween party. I’d gone for a classic, the Playboy Bunny (in honor of Bridget Jones), which had been rather satisfying. Painter was all over me, something I would’ve killed for six months ago. Now? Fuck him.

Fuck all of ’em.

Men, I mean. I was done with people who had penises, especially bikers. Liam (he’d disappeared off the face of the earth after his late-night visit, so far as I could tell). Painter (who only wanted me when he couldn’t have me). My dad (ugghh).

I’d decided to start campaigning for a woman’s right to marry her vibrator. So far I’d collected signatures from … well, mostly just Maggs. Her old man, Bolt, was coming up for parole soon, but she didn’t think he’d get out. He wouldn’t admit he’d done anything wrong. We all knew he was innocent. Hell, we even knew the DNA would exonerate him.

Convincing the state to actually get off their asses and test it, though? Good luck.

Maggs had dressed up like a prisoner in an orange jumpsuit, declaring it was her current version of slutty. Said she’d started associating prison jumpsuits with sex, seeing how the only time she got laid was during the very occasional conjugal visit.

I considered the music volume levels, then turned them up just a notch. I wasn’t blasting the back bedroom too loud—but listening to perky dance songs is a great way to wake up and get moving, right? Not only that, it seemed only civil to make a nice brunch for them.

A new song started, and I heard stirrings from the back of the house. Guessing who would come out of Dad’s bedroom any given morning was a real crapshoot. I kept fantasizing that he’d bring home someone over the age of thirty, but no joy so far. Knowing my luck, it was yet another chick I’d been in high school with.

I should start carding them to make sure they were legal.

It hadn’t always been this way. When Mom died, my dad went dark on us for a while, an angry lion who prowled around the house and occasionally swatted at things that got in his way. That first year I hadn’t seen him with a woman, not even once.

After that? It’s like a switch went off, and now he screwed around more than Ruger did before Sophie, which was saying something. But I might as well make Dad’s “friend” feel welcome, I told myself piously. After a long, hard night she would be hungry. I started whipping up pancakes, singing loudly as songs cycled through.

By the third song, the griddle was hot and the batter ready.

By the sixth I had a dozen pancakes cooked and ready. I’d also heard some thudding from the back of the house, and a high-pitched squeal. His latest party favor sounded just like a baby pig, I decided uncharitably.

Sure enough, when the girl marched into the kitchen, I recognized her. Yet another one I’d gone to school with. Officially icky. I eyed her as I took a sip of coffee. Then I raised my cup, wordlessly offering her some. She shook her head, wincing from the motion. I took another sip of sweet caffeine, hiding my smirk.

I set the cup down and poured a measuring bowl of whipped eggs into the frying pan. I heard a gagging noise behind me as she took off running for the bathroom. A few minutes later, Dad wandered into the kitchen. He wore nothing but flannel pajama pants, leaning against the counter as I passed him a cup of coffee without comment.

He took a sip, then spoke.

“You have plans for today?” he asked.

He didn’t ask about the girl or complain about the loud music.

He never did.

I had a secret theory that he liked how I chased off his women first thing in the morning. Sort of like letting out the dog, or hauling the trash to the curb. It was just one of the many small things I did to make his life more pleasant. In return he made it impossible for me to date and tried to micromanage my life.

Didn’t seem quite fair, something I needed to discuss with him. I took a deep breath, figuring there was no time like the present.

“Actually, I’ve got a project today,” I told him.

“What’s that?” he asked. A loud barfing noise came from the bathroom, and we both winced.

“Classy, Dad.”

A pained look crossed his face.

“Yeah, you got me there. So what’s this project?”

“Well, you know I’ve been looking into getting my aesthetician’s certification? I found a program and they’ve accepted me. You know I love doing nails, but I think this would be a great step forward.”

“That’s nice,” he said, then smiled. “I got no idea what that is, but if it makes you happy, go for it.”

“Here’s the thing,” I said, taking a deep breath. “The program’s in Portland.”

I braced myself, expecting him to explode. He didn’t disappoint.

“What the fuck are you thinking?”

“Cookie and I were talking at the wedding,” I said. “She’s got space and could use a little rental income. She’s lonely since Bagger died. She loves Portland, but having a friend around would help.”

“Don’t bullshit me, little girl,” he muttered. “This has to be about Hunter. What the fuck did he do to you? You gotta talk to me.”

I shook my head. He’d been after me to give him details of my time alone with Liam, but I wasn’t ready for that. I might never be ready. It seemed like my feelings changed daily, but I knew one thing for sure.

Dad wasn’t the person I’d be talking to when and if I felt the need.

“No, this is about me,” I told him firmly. “It’s time for me to strike out on my own. I love Portland, I love Cookie, and I need to get out of Coeur d’Alene.”

He looked away, face hardening.

“If it’s not Hunter, is it Painter? You need to get away from him? I know he was all over you last night, but I can make him back the fuck off, baby.”

“No,” I repeated. “That’s part of the problem. Everyone thinks it’s about the men in my life, or the club. It’s not. This is about me. I love you, but I’m almost twenty-three years old. I want my own space—it’s time.”

“I want you to be happy,” he said slowly. “And I can even understand moving out on your own. But Portland is the wrong city.”

“Don’t give me that,” I told him. “The truce with the Devil’s Jacks is solid. Deke and the brothers will be there for me. You have to accept the fact that I’m an adult and I can take care of myself. I promise you—if I need help, I’ll ask for it. But you can’t just tie me up in bubble wrap and store me in the basement. Kit’s on her own and she’s doing fine. It’s my turn.”

“Well, if that’s what you really want …” he said finally. He shook his head. “I don’t like it. For the record, I don’t like her being out there, either.”

I smiled, because I knew I had him.

“I’ll be fine, Dad. I love—”

“Oh, I can’t believe how much my head hurts,” moaned my former classmate as she stumbled into the kitchen, her face faintly green.

Kind of like the inside of a cucumber.

The wave of warmth I’d been feeling toward Dad chilled. Why the hell did he keep fucking around with women like this? Mom would kill him dead if she saw him pulling this shit. Not out of jealousy. Nope. Straight-up mercy shot.

“You think you could turn that music down?” she whimpered.

I shook my head in mock sorrow, then shouted, “Can’t find the remote!”

Her entire body shuddered and then I felt sort of guilty. I might be disgusted by the situation, but now she was turning all pitiful on me, ruining a perfectly good self-righteous snit.

“Oh, here it is,” I muttered. I grabbed the phone and turned the music off, wishing I could remember her name.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked, and I bit back a sigh. At least I wasn’t the only one with a shitty memory.

“We went to school together,” I said. “Unfortunately, you fucked my dad last night, so I thought I’d make you breakfast. Consider it your consolation prize.”

Confusion filled her face, and I let the last of my snit go. Who cared if Dad screwed twenty-year-olds? At least he wasn’t marrying them.

“You want some coffee?”

“No thanks,” she said. She looked over at the silent man watching us and frowned. “She really your kid?”

He nodded, and I saw a hint of humor in his eyes.

“That’s kind of creepy,” she said, glancing between us. He shrugged.

“You ready for a ride home?”

She pondered, the wheels in her head obviously a little rusty.

“Um, yeah,” she said. “That’s probably a good idea.”

“Vanessa!” I blurted out, feeling proud I remembered her name. She winced, and I realized I’d shouted. “Sorry—I couldn’t remember what it was, and then when I did …”

She just looked at me with big, postparty raccoon eyes. That’s when I noticed her “costume.” It was a super short, super tight little dress that had something weird and orange on the front. There was a fluff of green covering each boob.

“What the hell is that?” I asked. “I mean, what are you supposed to be dressed like?”

“I’m a sexy carrot.”

I looked at Dad and shook my head slowly. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“I’m just gonna go get my things,” Vanessa said nervously. “This is too weird for me.”

“Good idea,” Dad told her. “We’ll leave in five.”

She stumbled back out of the room.

“Seriously? Sexy carrot?”

He shrugged.

“I didn’t realize how young she was. She looked older last night.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Are you sure about this Portland shit?” he asked, clearly uninterested in discussing his carrot fetish, which wasn’t a huge surprise. He didn’t take women too seriously. In fact, that was his excuse every time he ran off one of my boyfriends.

He didn’t want me hooking up with someone like him. Too late for that. Fucking Liam.

“I’m sure. I’ve made all the arrangements. I’ll finish out my notice this week at the salon, and I’m moving on Saturday. I’d like it if you’d drive down with the truck, help me get my things settled.”

He sighed, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re an adult,” he said finally. “You can do what you want. But what about Painter? You totally sure that’s over? Boy’s got it bad for you.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Painter turned me down and then screwed some slut in the bathroom not five minutes later,” I said dryly. “I’m done with Painter. Been done with him for a while. This isn’t a secret, no matter how much he’s been following me around lately. He just wants what he can’t have.”

His eyes darkened.

“It wasn’t the right night, baby girl.”

“It never is,” I snapped. “I think I can do better.”

Dad nodded thoughtfully.

“Okay,” he replied. “Hey, Emmy?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re making the right choice,” he told me. “About Painter, I mean.”

I froze. Didn’t see that coming.

“What? I thought you wanted me with a Reaper?”

“I do,” he replied. “But Painter never fought for you. He never stood up to me, never asked if he could date you, nothing. You deserve a man who’ll fight for you, baby girl. You remember that, all right?”

Wow. Didn’t see that coming. I felt sudden tears well up, and I lurched forward into his arms. He wrapped them tight around me, resting his chin on my head and rubbing my back softly.

“Just remember,” he said. “You and Kit—you can always come home. I don’t want you to leave. It’s perfect with you here, but I guess you’ll do fine in Portland. Just don’t sell yourself short. You find what your mom and I had, and don’t settle for less.”

“Painter is definitely less,” I murmured.

“Yup,” Dad said. “He’s my brother now and I’ll stand by him. But I never cheated on your mom. Never wanted to. You need a man who feels the same way, and don’t stop until you find him.”

“I love you, Daddy,” I whispered.

“I know.”

“Hey, you got any Febreze or air freshener?” Vanessa asked, her voice a shrill whine. “I got beer shits. Your bathroom reeks.”

Damn. I wasn’t the only one who could do better.

“This is a new low, Dad,” I whispered. His chest rose in silent laughter.

“Yeah, I’ll give you that. Shit. What the fuck was I thinking?”

“Something to consider …” I said, pulling away to look up into his face. He smiled down at me, the blue eyes he’d given me crinkling just a little around the edges. “Moving forward? There is no such thing as sexy produce. Words to live by.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

TWO WEEKS LATER

PORTLAND, OREGON

“ID?” the bouncer asked. Kit rolled her eyes and pulled out the little plastic rectangle. He studied it carefully before handing it back. Then he checked mine and let us go down the stairs and into the bar.

This was my first full weekend in Portland, and Kit had driven down from Olympia to celebrate my new freedom with me. We’d started out by having dinner with Cookie and her daughter, Silvie, at the Kennedy School. Cookie headed home after that. We moved our party across the river to the Pearl District in search of the perfect dive bar.

Looking around the darkened, underground room, I was pretty sure we’d found it. The music was loud, the crowd was mixed, and the pool table was surrounded by a group of guys I’d rank at about a seven or eight on the “I’d hit that” scale, Liam being a perfect ten.

Bastard.

How dare he be all sweet and nice in the moonlight, and then take off and never talk to me again? Of course, I did kick him in the balls … The memory always gave me a smile.

“Dad know you have a fake ID?” I asked as we moved toward the bar. Kit smirked.

“Of course,” Kit replied. “He gave it to me.”

I stopped dead.

“No fucking way.”

“Yup,” she replied. “Right after I got caught with a bad fake during high school. Told me that he didn’t want me getting arrested or in trouble, so I needed quality.”

“That is so unfair,” I muttered. “He never gave me one.”

“Did you ask?”

I shook my head.

“No, I guess it never occurred to me that I could … I mean, after a certain point he let me drink sometimes at the club and home, but I just didn’t think about bars.”

“Well, that’s the difference between you and me,” she said. “I’m always looking for new ways to get in trouble. You’re always looking to slide by without anyone noticing.”

She had a point. Hell, you could even see it in our clothing. I wore a simple black top. It showed a little cleavage and outlined my curves, but in terms of club wear it was designed to blend in.

Kit, though … Not so much.

She’d gone full vintage for the night, a look she’d been developing for a while. Her hair was dyed dark black and arranged in an elaborate style that screamed Bettie Page. She wore a fitted, off-the-shoulder red blouse that matched her bright red lipstick and showed off her tattoos. She’d paired it with ultra tight capri pants that somehow looked old-fashioned and slutty at the same time. The entire outfit was eye-catching and unique, and completely above any particular fad or momentary fashion trend.

Kit had always been that—ruthlessly making her own path, oblivious to other opinions. I loved it.

I loved her, too.

“I love you,” I told her, catching her up in a hug. She giggled.

“You’re drunk.”

“So are you!”

“Not drunk enough,” she countered. “Get me a vodka Red Bull, okay? I’m going to hit the powder room.”

I waited for our drinks, musing about my sister and her unique view of life. Powder room, for fuck’s sake? Who says that? Somehow it was all part of that vintage persona, and on her it didn’t seem artificial at all.

Quite the accomplishment, really.

I got the drinks and found a table in the back. The top was a little sticky, as was the padded bench against the wall. I couldn’t see much in the dim light, though, and that was probably a good thing. When it comes to sticky in a bar, spilled drinks are sort of the best-case scenario.

My phone buzzed.

PAINTER: How’s Portland?

Yeah, right. Like I wanted to talk to fucking Painter. I picked up my drink and chugged it down fast.

Kit slid in next to me, eyes wide.

“Are we not a happy camper?” she asked. I slid my phone over to her and she picked it up, studying the message. “Ah, the amazing Painter.”

Then she started typing. It took me a minute to realize what she was doing. I lunged for the phone and she laughed, hitting send.

“You bitch!” I yelled. She laughed and gave it back to me.

ME: Figure it out, dumbass. You blew it, and now I’ll never blow you.

“Wow, that’s cold,” I said, impressed. “He’s gonna be really pissed at me.”

“You found him fucking a girl in the bathroom right after he turned you down,” she said bluntly. “He doesn’t get to be pissed. Ever. And what do you care? You’re done with him.”

“Yeah, but I still have to see him around when I go home.”

“So what?” she asked. “It’s like your head is still in Coeur d’Alene. You live in Portland now, babe. Bottoms up!”

She passed her drink over to me, and I chugged that one, too.

“I think I’m drunk,” I said after a couple minutes. She leaned forward, looking deep into my eyes like a fortune-teller.

“Really drunk, or just mostly?”

“Mostly,” I replied. “But definitely not sober.”

“Excellent,” she declared. “Now we’re going to talk about Liam.”

I swayed.

“I never should have told you about him.”

“Probably,” she agreed. “But you did, so that’s a done deal. Have you heard from him at all since that night?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t know if that pisses me off or not. I mean, it was all lies. I know that. But I still sort of miss him. How fucked up is that?”

She cocked her head, thinking.

“Pretty fucked up. But that’s how it is when you break up with someone.”

“You have to be with someone before you can break up with them.”

Kit started laughing.

“What?”

“You and Liam—Hunter—whatever we want to call him … You guys definitely had a relationship. You talked every day for weeks. You had phone sex with him and you pretty much had real sex with him, even if he didn’t literally stick his dick in you. He screwed you over and then he came to visit you and let you know you were safe. That’s more of a relationship than I had with that dumbass I got engaged to. Well, except for the sex part. We had more of that. But my point is, you broke up with someone. Of course you’re gonna be thinking about him.”

I considered her words. She had a good point.

“You know, that actually makes me feel a little better,” I said. “Less like I’m crazy.”

“So have you stalked him online since it happened?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said. Duh. “I mean, I looked at his house and stuff on Google. Went through his wallet. I already told you about the panties and shit. But there’s not much to find. His profile is gone and I can’t find anything else on him. I have no idea how much of what I knew of him was real.”

“This is going to take more alcohol,” she said, surveying our empty glasses.

I considered her statement, then nodded gravely.

“I have to pee.”

“You go do that,” Kit said, equally serious. “Try not to get lost. I’m gonna go replace these drinks. It’s my duty as a sister to make sure you don’t sober up any time in the near future.”

I stood, swaying, and realized there was no real danger of me sobering up any time soon. I made my way to the bathroom, passing the guys playing pool. One of them made eye contact, and I smiled. Yeah, being away from the club was pretty cool. I could flirt with him and not have to worry about him suddenly disappearing because some prospect started growling.

It took a long time to get to the bathroom and back. I can’t quite remember why, but I think I might have gotten lost near the pool table. Kit sat waiting for me, my phone in front of her, fingers flying.

Shit, why hadn’t I taken it with me?

Oh yeah. Drunk.

“Okay, two things,” she said when I got back. “I changed his name from Liam to Hunter in your contacts. It’s confusing me to keep track of both. Also, he said this.”

She handed it over to me. I looked at her blankly.

“Read it already,” she said. “Here, I got you a drink.”

She pushed a glass toward me, then glanced at the phone pointedly.

I looked down.

ME: Hey. Wht r you doing?

HUNTER: Em? Holy shit. How are you? I’m not doing anything. Can’t believe your messaging me

ME: I just wondred how you were, maybe if you think about me?

I looked up and gave Kit a death glare. Why hadn’t I drowned her when we were both still small, and I could’ve gotten away with it?

“What the hell were you doing?”

“Starting a conversation,” she said brightly. “I feel like we’ve got unfinished business here. Let’s get it out and over with, and then we’ll find someone to punch your V Card and move on.”

She said this last part way too loud, because the guy at the next table turned his head to eye us. He gave me a smile, and one of those chin lifts guys do.

“You need to stop talking,” I hissed at her. My phone vibrated, and I glanced down.

HUNTER: I think about you all the time

My heart skipped a beat. Well. That was interesting.

Kit tried to grab the phone again, but I stuffed it down the front of my pants. Ha! I smirked at her triumphantly until she whipped out her own cell. She hit a button and suddenly mine started vibrating.

Oh, wow.

There was something really, really wrong about how good that felt.

“I’ve had way too much alcohol,” I said. “I think I’m turning into a sex fiend.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” asked the guy next to us.

“No!” I grabbed Kit’s arm and started dragging her away.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to get the hell out of here,” I muttered. “Go dancing or something.”

This shit was out of control. Typical night out with my sister.

Two hours later I found myself in a cab headed toward Hunter’s house.

How we got from me dragging Kit out of a bar to stalking my former kidnapper, I wasn’t quite sure. I’m usually a pretty sensible person.

But in my defense, she bought me shots.

Anyway, because Kit is a sneaky bitch, she had the cabbie drop us not quite a block from Hunter’s address, so we could creep up on him. (I swear, in the moment it made sense. Shots!) We tiptoed along the sidewalk like two cat burglars, which would’ve been far more effective if we hadn’t been giggling hysterically and stumbling around. About two houses away we realized there was a party going on at his place.

Even during a party he took the time to answer “my” text!

Some part of me deep inside—the part that’s too stupid to live—thought this was sweet. That’s when I had to bitch-slap myself mentally, because seriously? Kidnapper. Naked photos.

Endless orgasms …

No. Don’t think about those.

We stopped behind a giant rhododendron and peered through the leaves at the house. People flowed through the front door, and loud music filled the air. Hunter stood in the corner of the old-fashioned porch, leaning against the rail and looking down over the yard. It was one of those old houses that defines Portland—tall and skinny on a narrow lot. Almost Victorian, but just a little more raw, as if the builders couldn’t quite afford the gingerbread. The porch slanted forward and steep stairs led to a narrow walk. Tree-sized shrubs surrounded it, many of them still flowering despite how late it was in the year.

Hunter watched impassively as a group of girls staggered up to the house. A tall chick with giant boobs tried to talk to him and I felt myself tense, but he ignored her and after a minute she followed the others inside.

“Wow, he’s hot,” Kit whispered. “No wonder you’re obsessed with him.”

“I’m not obsessed.”

“Whatever,” she said. “But damn … That chick looked like she was ready to drop to her knees on the spot if he gave the word. Not many guys would turn that down. Text him!”

“And say what?”

“Ask him what he’s doing,” she hissed.

“You already asked him that!”

“Oh yeah. I forgot. Ask him if he’s got anything interesting planned.”

I dug my phone out of my jeans and started typing, which was harder than you’d think, since my thumbs kept hitting the wrong spots.

ME: So you have anthing intrsting plnned? I’m out wth my sister

Seconds later Hunter reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, glancing down at it. He smiled and I melted, because he really was gorgeous. He started to type something back, but then a beautiful girl with bright red hair came out and wrapped her arms around his waist.

I waited for him to push her away or freeze her out like he’d done with Big Boobs.

Instead he hugged her back. She said something to him and he laughed, the expression on his face so tender I could have thrown up. Bastard. Motherfucking cocksucking bastard. Hunter leaned over and whispered in her ear. She smacked his stomach playfully.

“I think we should kill him,” Kit hissed. “He doesn’t look nearly as cute with that bitch wrapped around him.”

I nodded.

He kissed the top of the girl’s head and she laughed again, then pulled away and went back into the house. Hunter turned back to his phone and I got a text from him.

HUNTER: Nope nothing planned. Just hanging out with the roommates. Shit it’s good to hear from you Em. Miss you. How are you?

I showed the message to Kit, and she growled.

“That takes balls,” she muttered. “You saw how they were together? That’s not some new thing, they’re a couple. He’s fucking with you. Either that, or he’s fucking her while thinking about you. Not sure which one sucks worse.”

“I know,” I said, my voice grim. God, why had I wasted so much energy on this guy? Why the hell was I surprised to see him hanging on some bitch right after he texted me?

Hunter wasn’t a nice guy.

We’d covered this.

I should just slink away. Just go home before I embarrassed myself even more. Then I pictured him naked with that redheaded twat and my head exploded.

I stepped out from behind the shrub and started marching across the lawn. I’m sure he noticed me right away, because Hunter had been doing that same watching thing my dad always does. He liked to keep an eye on everyone, always looking for potential threats. Considering what a giant dickhead Hunter was, I’d bet tons of people wanted him dead.

I was the new queen of their special club.

Pushing through the group at the foot of the stairs, I headed straight toward him. The surprised shock on Hunter’s face was satisfying as all fuck.

“Em, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, glancing around the yard quickly. Maybe he expected an army of Reapers behind me? Well, I might not have the brothers with me, but I had Kit. Under the right circumstances, she could be scarier than a dozen angry bikers.

“So, you miss me?”

“Um, yeah,” he said, studying me like I was some sort of alien creature. “Where did you come from? I thought you were in Coeur d’Alene.”

“Just because you leave me somewhere doesn’t mean I’ll stay,” I hissed. “I’m not a dog, Hunter. I don’t do what I’m told.”

He narrowed his eyes at me.

“You’re pretty fuckin’ drunk, aren’t you?”

“And that would be your business because … ?”

“Shit, let’s get out of here,” he muttered. “Get you some water or something. Figure out the rest of this later.”

“Why, are you trying to hide me?” I sniped. “Afraid I might run into someone, make things awkward for you?”

He shook his head slowly.

“No, I just figured tomorrow you’ll wish there were fewer witnesses who saw this,” he said. “I’ll bet you’re gonna have a hell of a headache, too. Let’s get some water, maybe some Advil. Then we can talk, okay?”

“Fuck talking. I saw her, dickwad.”

“Who?”

I cocked my head and sneered. Did he really think he could fool me?

“I saw you with your girlfriend like two minutes ago, Liam. You kissed her, for fuck’s sake. Don’t pretend you’re trying to do anything more than use me.”

“Jealous?” he asked, a slow, sexy grin stealing across his face.

“Don’t smile at her, asshole,” Kit said from behind me. Like always, she had my back and I felt a rush of love for her. At least one person would always be on my side.

“Babe, that girl was my sister,” Liam said carefully, his voice almost gentle. “Kelsey. Trust me, she’s not interested in me like that.”

I froze.

“Your sister?” I asked, the fog in my head clearing enough to realize that I might have stepped over the line … “You told me you didn’t have any family, that you grew up in foster care.”

“She’s my foster sister,” he said. Shit. I felt like a complete bitch. “We’ve been together for more than ten years, I practically raised her.”

“I saw how she looked at you,” Kit snarled. “That’s not a sisterly kind of look.”

“You want to say that a little louder?” a new voice demanded, and I looked over to find the redhead in question glaring at us, hands on her hips. “Because it sounds like you were saying I want to fuck my brother. That’s pretty nasty, even coming from a skank like you.”

Kit bristled like a porcupine, and for a second I thought she might launch herself across the porch, hissing and spitting.

“Drop it, Kels,” Hunter said, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. “This is Em, and that’s her sister. Trust me, I’m happy she’s jealous of you. Means she still gives a shit.”

“I do not give a shit,” I muttered, and Hunter laughed.

“This bitch tied you in knots—” Kelsey started to say, but Hunter cut her off.

“Drop it. Put away your claws, because I’m just thankful she’s here.”

Kit snarled, and I stepped quickly between her and Kelsey. Wait. Wasn’t this supposed to be my dramatic scene? Ughh …

“This is between me and Hunter,” I told Kit. “I appreciate the support, but you need to back off.”

“Christ,” Kit muttered, turning away and running a hand through her hair. “I need a beer.”

Kelsey narrowed her eyes at her. Hunter put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed just a little tighter than what looked comfortable.

“Play. Nice.”

“You can come out back, we have a keg,” she choked after a long pause, her tone still hostile. “Let dumbass talk to his precious Em, maybe he’ll stop moping around. I’m seriously tired of his shit.”

She turned and stalked back into the house. Kit caught my eye.

You okay? she mouthed. I shrugged, which she took as a yes. I wasn’t sure if I was okay or not, but I figured I wouldn’t make any progress fighting on the porch with this Kelsey chick.

“Look, let’s go get some coffee or something,” Hunter said. “There’s a diner a few blocks from here. Then I’ll take you home.”

“No, let’s stay. I need another drink.”

I turned toward the house, but he caught my arm.

“I don’t want you inside.”

“Why not?” I asked. “You can’t tell me it isn’t safe. You let your sister go inside.”

“It’s safe enough,” he replied reasonably. “But there’s shit in there I don’t want you exposed to.”

“My dad is the president of an MC,” I snapped. “Or have you forgotten? Because if I remember correctly, it’s why you got in touch with me in the first place. I’ve been exposed to plenty in my life.”

Hunter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It’d gotten longer since I’d seen him. Unfortunately, I remembered exactly what it felt like to run my fingers through that hair.

Lust hit me, and I bit the inside of my cheek. Goddammit. Why did he have to be so beautiful?

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten who you are,” he said. “Would make my life a hell of a lot easier if you were nobody. I’d just fuck you and get it over with.”

Chapter Ten

I stared at him, stunned.

“I know guys think things like that,” I said slowly. “But you do realize you’re not supposed to say them out loud, right?”

He sighed.

“Em, I really like you. We covered that. I like you enough not to play games¸ okay? That means I’m not gonna feed you any romantic bullshit.”

Huh. Wasn’t sure how to take that. On the one hand, I didn’t want him lying to me. On the other, I didn’t like the honesty, either. Made it too hard to pretend that this wasn’t completely insane.

“So let’s lay it all out,” I said. “You want to fuck me, but you don’t care about me. I want to fuck you, but trust me, every time you open your mouth, I care about you less.”

“Pretty much,” he muttered.

“We should do it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s do it,” I said, warming to the idea. “Fuck. Screw. Boink. I know you’re good at it, and it’s about time I got it over with. Let’s go in there and have at it. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.”

I smiled up at him brightly, pleased with myself. It was a brilliant plan.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said, closing his eyes. “Un-fucking-real. Em, we need to get you home. Now.”

“You’re turning me down?” I asked, raising my brows. “Because you seemed pretty ready to go for it at the bar, and you sure as shit weren’t faking it when you had me cuffed to the bed. Pretty certain I didn’t imagine that part.”

“Yeah, Em. I’m turning you down.”

“Well, fuck you, asshole. Oh wait, we’re not doing that, are we?” I said peevishly, looking past him. The front door had opened, and I could see girls dancing inside. Some of them weren’t wearing much in the way of clothing. Interesting. “If you’re gonna be boring, I’ll just go check out the party.”

I pushed past him and walked into the living room, looking around curiously. If Hunter wanted to be a dickwad, I’d find someone else to entertain me.

Now, I grew up in an MC, so it wasn’t like the party totally shocked me. But Dad always kicked me out before things got too crazy at the Armory, because he’s mean like that. I have a good imagination, though, and I’ve heard stories about wild club parties.

Stories that were apparently pretty accurate. Sweet.

Across the wall was a long banner that said “Welcome Home, Clutch.” Right underneath it sat a big recliner, all covered with gold cloth like a throne. There was a mini fridge set next to it, and attached to one arm was an elaborate remote-control holster. I made careful note of each peripheral detail, because my eyes kept shying away every time I tried to look at the action taking place in the chair.

A man wearing a Devil’s Jack cut lay back, a giant grin on his face. I couldn’t tell if it was from watching the half-naked stripper working the pole in the center of the room, the two fully naked chicks on the couch sixty-nining each other, or the girl giving him a blow job. Whatever the cause, Clutch (I assumed it was Clutch) was in a very, very good mood.

Well, at least now I knew what the party was for.

I started wandering across the room, which was full of guys drinking beer, couples making out, and oh … look at that. There was a giant plasma TV playing porn.

“Em,” Hunter called, his voice warning. I ignored him. This was far too interesting. Past the living room was a dining area. Big Boobs lay back on the table while a tall man with a hairy ass fucked her in front of the crowd. I cocked my head, studying him carefully. He needed a wax in a big way.

Then everything turned upside down.

Hunter had grabbed me and thrown me over his shoulder, which wasn’t the most comfortable position for a woman who’d been drinking all night. It took everything I had not to barf down his back, so I started smacking him and demanding that he let me go.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, passing through the kitchen and up a flight of stairs. He turned into a room at the top, flopping me down on an unmade bed. Everything started spinning. I tried to focus on the ceiling, where something faintly green shimmered. What was that up there?

Then I burst out laughing.

“The fuck?” Hunter asked, hands on his hips, exasperation written all over his face.

“There’s a glowing unicorn on your ceiling,” I said, awestruck. But was it real? I closed my eyes, rubbed them, then opened them again.

Nope. It was still there. Holy shit.

I sat up.

“Is there really a glowing unicorn watching us?” I asked, feeling a little panicky. “Because I see one. It’s right there.”

A smile crept across his face and he sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“Yup, there’s a unicorn up there all right,” he said. “Must’ve been a kid’s bedroom before we took the place over. Someone painted it for him, I guess.”

Well, that was good news. I might be drunk, but at least I wasn’t hallucinating.

“Why don’t you paint over it?”

“Kelsey likes it,” he said. “Actually, I kind of like it, too. We had some shitty foster homes, but there was one place we stayed that was pretty good. The woman there was way into unicorns. All over the place. They remind me of her.”

“Are you still in touch with her.”

“She’s dead,” he said shortly. “Died about a month after we moved into her house. Heart attack or something. We were damned lucky they kept us together after that—even real brothers and sisters get broken apart. Fuckin’ miracle we weren’t separated.”

I thought about my mom and dad, and how happy I’d been with them as a kid. I missed her so much. And while Dad drove me crazy, I loved him. He was always there for me. Always.

I rolled to my side, curling into him and resting my head against his chest. Then I brought my hand up and rubbed up and down the plane of his muscles, almost restlessly.

“So, what do you think?” I asked.

“About what?”

“Fucking, of course. Remember? I’m not a little girl who needs protection, Hunter. I know what I want. Just lie back and relax, because it’s not personal. I’m just going to borrow your dick for a while.”

He stilled.

“You’re really, really drunk, Em. I think we should talk about it tomorrow. If you’re still interested then, I’m all over it.”

I pushed myself up to lean on his chest, glaring at him.

“If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going downstairs to find someone who will,” I threatened. “I’m serious. I’m done with this virgin princess bullshit.”

His face hardened.

“Yeah, that ain’t happening.”

I tried to sit up, but he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight. Then he rolled, taking me with him until I was settled underneath, one of his legs between mine. I felt his dick against my stomach and smiled. That was good—for a minute I’d been worried he’d lost interest. I tried to kiss him, but he pulled away, scowling.

“Oh, seriously?” I asked. “Let me get this straight. You’ve got a drunk girl who wants to have sex with you in your bed. You’ve made it clear you aren’t interested in love or romance. The drunk girl is cool with that. Are you sure you’re actually a real biker? Because something here isn’t adding up, Liam.”

His face softened.

“Say it again.”

“Are you sure you’re actually a real biker?” I asked. He shook his head and grinned.

“No, my name. Liam.”

“Liam,” I said, letting it roll around my tongue. “Liam. Liam. Fuck me, Leeeeam.”

“Christ, I love how you say that. Nobody calls me that but you, Em.”

“That sounded almost sweet,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But we aren’t playing games. I know you aren’t sweet, so stop pretending.”

He dropped his forehead down, resting it against mine.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” he said quietly. “Not gonna blow it now.”

“Maybe I should blow you?”

His face twisted almost painfully, hips swiveling against mine. For a minute I thought I had him. Then he kissed the tip of my nose and rolled off me. He tucked me into his side again, and used his free arm to grab a remote control off the bedside table. The TV sitting on top of a battered dresser flickered to life.

“Tell you what. Let’s hang out for a while. You sober up and still want to go at it, no problem. My dick’s all yours,” he said. “Until then, we’ll watch some TV. You like Top Gear?”

“Sure,” I said, trying not to yawn. I glanced up at the unicorn. It seemed to wink at me, sneaky bastard. I decided to rest my eyes for a minute, because they obviously weren’t working right. Five minutes later I was sound asleep.

I was dead.

Only death and damnation to hell could explain suffering this terrible.

Horrible, unspeakably bright sunlight attacked me. I tried covering my eyes with my arm. Unfortunately, this brought it into contact with my head, which exploded into waves of painful throbbing.

I heard the door open.

“Morning,” Hunter said cheerfully. “I brought you some coffee.”

I wasn’t dead, I realized. I tried to think back, remember the night before. Flashes hit me. Strippers. A glowing unicorn. British people talking about cars …

Oh God.

I’d thrown a jealous tantrum and demanded Hunter have sex with me. Then I’d fallen asleep on top of him. Kit. This was all Kit’s fault. She bought the devil shots. She insisted we stalk Hunter. Hell, she’d texted him in the first place.

My sister would pay for this.

“You want some Advil?” Hunter asked. I slowly peeled my gummy eyelids open. He stood over me, his hair wet and his skin glowing with the fresh vigor of a newly showered man.

Damn him and his sobriety.

“Advil would be great,” I said, unsteadily sitting upright. The covers fell down as I reached for the coffee.

Then I realized I was wearing only my bra and panties.

“Crap,” I said, grabbing for the sheet.

“Not like I haven’t seen it before,” Hunter said reasonably. “I stripped you down last night, figured you’d be more comfortable. Also, I think you spilled booze on the shirt. It smelled funny.”

Of course it did, I thought, mentally sighing. Because getting drunk and making an ass of myself wasn’t enough. Nope. I had to stink, too. Wordlessly, I reached for the coffee. I took a sip of the dark, bitter liquid, feeling it flow down my throat like a miracle drug. I was already feeling more human—amazing what a little caffeine can do.

Hunter sat down on the bed next to me.

“Think you’ll live?” he asked.

I considered the question carefully.

“Not sure,” I admitted. “Physical suffering aside, I’m pretty sure I’ll never live last night down. I’m sorry I was such a freak.”

He gave a laugh.

“Yeah, because I’ve never seen someone get drunk and stupid before,” he said. “Not that I didn’t appreciate you climbing all over me. But what the hell was that all about? Wasn’t like you.”

“Kit,” I said, her name a curse. “All her idea. For the record, she’s the one who texted you, too. My sister is insane. I’m not entirely sure she’s even human.”

I took another drink, then had a horrible realization. I’d abandoned my sister—drunk—in the middle of a party where screwing women publicly on tables was socially acceptable.

“Is she okay?” I asked, full of sudden panic. “Have you seen Kit?”

“She’s fine,” he said. “Down in the kitchen with Kelsey. They’re making breakfast for all the stragglers. I guess they hit it off last night—now they’re building some kind of unholy alliance.”

I shuddered.

“Just what the world needs. Did I really ask you to fu—have sex with me last night?”

“Yup,” he said, looking smug. “I’m on board with that now, by the way. You were just way too out of it last night for us to have any fun.”

“Wow, what a prince,” I muttered. “You won’t screw a drunk girl. Were you class president, too?”

He laughed.

“Trust me, it wouldn’t have been fun for either of us. I’m not into necrophilia. You were so out of it I kept getting nervous and checking to make sure you hadn’t stopped breathing.”

“Ewww.”

“Hey, not my fault. I was sober, remember? You’re the one who poured those shots down your throat.”

Oh, I remembered that part. Vividly.

“I feel like something died inside me.”

“That would be your liver,” he said helpfully, reaching down to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m gonna go check on Clutch, and then we’ll talk. Make yourself comfortable. Bathroom’s across the hall. Oh, and Em?”

“Yeah?”

“Last night was a game changer, so far as I’m concerned. I gave you your space, let you go. But you came back, so now you’re fair game. I’m done being the nice guy.”

I eyed him suspiciously, then pulled the covers up and over my head. I wasn’t ready to think about this. I heard him leave the room. Damn it. Why didn’t he have blackout curtains in here? After a while, the door opened again.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’ll get up. I was just drifting …”

“Don’t worry about it,” a voice said. Not Hunter’s, but one I knew way too well. I peeked out and over the covers.

Skid.

“What are you doing?” I asked, eyes darting nervously. He closed the door behind him and clicked the lock, loudly and deliberately. Then he leaned back against the door with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice cold.

“You can’t hurt me,” I said quickly, hoping it was true. “Hunter will be pissed as hell if you try to do anything.”

He gave a harsh laugh.

“I don’t care about you enough to hurt you,” he said. “What happened before? That’s behind us. You were defending yourself and I was trying to save my brother from a fucking Reaper lunatic. We’ll call it even and let it go, at least as far as you’re concerned. This is something else.”

I cocked my head, not sure whether to believe him. Not that I had many options. I mean, I guess I could scream for Hunter. But Skid wasn’t making a move at me and now I was curious.

“What?”

“You need to leave Hunter alone. You have no idea how much you’re fucking up his life. I want you to get up, take your sister, and go away.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Why would I do that?” I asked, even though until that moment I’d half planned to take off anyway. But I really didn’t like being told what to do.

“Do you give even the slightest shit about him?” Skid asked, meeting my gaze without a hint of trickery. “If you do, you need to end this. It’s a game for you, but it’s going to destroy him. You’re like a virus in his head, eating him up and burning him out. How much do you know about his background?”

“I know he was in foster care …” I said, not wanting to admit how little he’d told me.

“He has nobody,” Skid said with careful emphasis. “It’s him, Kelsey, and the Devil’s Jacks. We’re his family, his work, his home. Everything. At this rate, he’ll be running this club some day—a functional club, without all the bullshit we’ve been fighting our way through these past few years. A relationship with you ends all that. He’d have to step back. We’d let him stay in the club, but if he’s with a Reaper, he won’t be trusted.”

I stared at him.

“That’s totally unfair—and it doesn’t make sense. You guys planned for him to get together with me in the first place. I’m the glue to hold the truce together or some such bullshit. How come it’s all changed?”

Skid snorted.

“Yeah, that was fine when he didn’t give a damn about you,” he said. “But it’s pretty obvious it’s deeper than that now. He talked club business with you—I know he did, so don’t bother denying it. And if he told you shit once, he’ll do it again. We can’t have our national sergeant at arms sharing secrets with Picnic Hayes’s daughter. He starts sleeping with you, it’s over for him and that’s a fact.”

I lay back, thinking. Wow.

“He’s really going to be a national officer?” I asked. “That’s … Isn’t he too young?”

“Things are changing for the Jacks. He’s one of the men behind those changes. We’ll have elections soon and that’s how it’s gonna play out. Unless you fuck it up for him.”

“Crap,” I muttered. I sat up, carefully holding the sheet in place. “You do realize that I have no idea what’s going on with him and me? I’m not even sure there’s an us at this point.”

“Exactly,” Skid said. “So are you willing to destroy his life just so you can explore it? Because if you care about him, it’s a shit thing to do. And don’t try to tell me you don’t care about him, either. I saw you last night. You’re as fucked in the head as he is.”

I stared at the wall, trying to process what he was saying. The hangover wasn’t helping.

“Can I ask you one thing?” I said finally.

“Sure.”

“Why are you so sure I can’t be trusted?”

He just looked at me for long seconds, judging me with his eyes.

“Because you lied to your own club.”

“I had no idea Hunter was a Devil’s Jack—” I started to protest, but he held up a hand, stopping me.

“Not that,” he said, his voice cold. “Later, at the house. You called and told him to get out, right in the middle of a meet with your dad. Don’t bother trying to bullshit me. You used my fucking phone to do it.”

My breath caught.

“I smashed your phone.”

He offered a dark, cynical smile.

“Let me guess, your dad pays for your cell?”

I didn’t reply. He did, but I’d be damned if I’d admit it now.

“I have an online record of calls,” Skid said slowly and carefully, like he was talking to an idiot. Apparently he was. “I saw the number and the time stamp, Em. I know what you did. I can prove it.”

Oh, fuck … He could destroy me. And he would, too. I saw it in his eyes. Double fuck.

“So you hate me because I saved his life and yours?” I asked, feeling like a cornered animal. “I protected the peace between our clubs, Skid. That wasn’t a betrayal. That saved all of us.”

“I don’t hate you at all,” he replied. “I’m thankful to you. I love Hunter—he’s my brother, and he’d be dead right now if you hadn’t done it. Why d’you think I’ve kept my mouth shut? But can you look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t do the same for your dad? Say you were Hunter’s old lady. Would you make a call to save your father’s life, if you knew we might kill him? Because this truce may not last long term. You ready to make that choice?”

The thought stabbed through me. Of course I would save my dad. It must’ve been written all over my face. Skid gave a sad smile.

“You’ll always have divided loyalties, Em,” he said almost compassionately. “Our sergeant at arms shouldn’t be with a woman who isn’t a hundred percent behind the Jacks. Not if he’s been stupid enough to fall in love with her.”

“You think he’s in love with me?” I asked, my heart hopeful and breaking all at once.

“I think he’s something,” he replied, shrugging. “I don’t know if ‘love’ is the right word. Not sure he’s capable of love the way you’d think of it. But he cares enough about you to compromise his judgment. I know he went to see you at your house, and I know he told you things you shouldn’t have heard. That’s enough to end it right there. If you care about Hunter—if you want him to have a future—you need to leave this house and never come back.”

I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t think of a damned thing to say.

Skid was right.

“Go on,” I told him, feeling sick to my stomach. “Distract Hunter or something. I’ll grab my clothes, then Kit and I will take off. I don’t want to see him, though. Not sure I can handle that.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said. “I’ll ask him to help me in the back yard. We need to move the keg and clean up anyway. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

Eight minutes later, I was practically racing down the street, Kit trailing after me like a sad, spoiled little puppy.

“Why did we have to leave?” she whined. “I like Kelsey. We were having fun. She’s a lot like me—I think we could be friends.”

“I’ll tell you when we get home,” I muttered, keeping my eyes forward. I couldn’t let myself think about Hunter, let alone explain it right now. I didn’t want to start crying.

Sometimes doing the right thing sucks.

HUNTER

I stared down at my empty bed, jaw clenching.

I’d known something was wrong the instant Skid and I walked into the kitchen. Kelsey stood at the stove by herself, flipping pancakes and muttering soft curses.

“You,” she said, turning to glare at us. She pointed her bright red spatula menacingly, waving it back and forth, apparently unable to decide on a target. “You scared them off.”

“Who?” I asked.

Skid sighed.

“It’s my fault,” he said. “I told Em she should get out of here and leave you alone.”

“What?” I asked, stunned. I glanced over at Kelsey, who shrugged. “Fuck.”

I took the stairs two at a time, which was a complete waste of effort. Em wasn’t up there. I found a piece of paper on the bed, though.

Liam—I’m so sorry, but this whole thing was a big mistake. I want you to know there’s no hard feelings and I hope things go great for you and your club.

Take care, Em

I dropped the note and strode over to the window, pushing it open and looking outside.

Nothing.

Fuck. FUCK.

Then I clenched the windowsill until my knuckles turned white, trying to decide the best way to kill Skid. It came to me. I’d beat him to death. Immediately. I found him down in the kitchen, locked in a glaring match with Kelsey. Without a word, I spun him around and punched him in the face.

He staggered and I punched him again, sending him into the fridge with a crash. The top was lined with bottles of hard liquor, and they started falling like dominoes. Some bounced on the painted wooden floorboards and others shattered.

The raw stench of alcohol filled the kitchen.

“What the hell did you do?” I yelled at him. “Who I screw is my business! Not yours. Not the club’s. You stay the fuck out of my life, brother.”

He held up his hands, clearly not wanting a fight. Tough shit. I jerked him to his feet and hit him again. Blood spurted from his nose, and I saw—reflected in his eyes—the instant he decided to start fighting back.

I’m not sure how long it lasted.

What I do know is that we tumbled off the back porch, through the shrubs, and onto the lawn all without losing a beat. By the time it ended, Clutch, Grass, Kelsey, and several random women left over from the party were all standing on the back porch watching.

Pretty sure Clutch and Grass were taking bets.

I decided the winner owed me drinks, because I’d kicked Skid’s ass … But by the time I had him knocked out and helpless in the dirt, my brain had started working again. I glanced up at our audience and frowned, staggering slightly. He’d gotten in some pretty good hits. My head was spinning—I figured there was a decent chance I had a concussion.

“Go away,” I growled. “This is private.”

Grass herded them back in, although Kelsey tried to insist on staying outside. He ended the argument by picking her up and carrying her while she rewarded him with a flurry of head smacks from the spatula.

I collapsed to the ground, staring blankly up at the clouded sky.

“You okay?” I asked Skid. He rolled over, moaning.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I had to do it, bro.”

“You didn’t have to do shit.”

“She’s no good for you,” he said. “She’s not some little puppet you can control. She lied for you to her own club, which is fuckin’ romantic until you consider that same loyalty is attached to the Reapers, too. You’d never be able to trust her, brother. And if you did, we’d never be able to trust you.”

“Still not your decision to make,” I said slowly. “So you figured it out, I guess?”

“Phone records,” he said shortly. “Don’t worry. Won’t show ’em to anyone. Figure I owe her that much, given that she saved your sorry ass. But seriously—elections are coming, and unless you want to pull out, you can’t be with her.”

“That’s my problem,” I told him.

“No, it’s a club problem,” Skid said seriously. “Burke needs a right-hand man he can trust, and we all know it’s you. But I’m your right hand, bro. It’s my job to make sure your head’s in the game. Right now it isn’t.”

I flipped him off, draping my arm over my eyes.

“Nobody knows about that phone call,” I said. “It’s not an issue.”

“I know about the phone call,” Skid replied, his voice quiet without compromise. “And the day it puts our club in danger is the day I’ll stop guarding her secret. It’s not personal, brother. I don’t actually dislike the chick, despite what you might think. But I can’t let her get too close to you.”

I sighed. Fuck.

“This isn’t over,” I told him. “I’m not giving up on her.”

“You giving up the national office?” Skid asked. “Think carefully, bro. You can only have one or the other.”

I didn’t reply—I’d spent the last eight years working to prove myself, to show Burke I was the man he could count on in a fight. I wasn’t ready to give up all I’d earned.

Shit. Skid was right.

I had a problem.

Chapter Eleven

ONE WEEK LATER

EM

I couldn’t breathe.

Something heavy crushed my chest, pressing down on my lungs. Something evil, I realized. A demon hungry for my soul? I hovered in that dark space between sleep and wakefulness, terrified as my worst dreams came to life.

“There’s ghost monkeys in the closet …” a soft, weirdly high-pitched voice whispered in my ear. Adrenaline spiked and I sat up, tumbling a four-year-old devil child off my chest.

“Ouch!” Silvie squawked, looking up at me from the end of the bed with an air of betrayal. “Ghost monkeys are scary! I want you to get them.”

Oh, fuck. Was it morning already? I glanced at the clock. Sure enough, seven a.m. Already. Pisser. Well, at least Silvie was in here pestering me and not Cookie. That woman worked way too hard—she deserved a morning to sleep in.

“Sorry, baby,” I said, opening my arms. Silvie scampered up the covers and crawled into them, snuggling into me tight. “What’s this about ghost monkeys?”

“In my closet,” she said, eyes wide. “Wanna eat me.”

“There are no ghost monkeys,” I told her firmly. “Where’d you get that idea?”

“Cody,” she whispered. I should’ve known. I’d only lived here two weeks, but I already hated Cody Weathers, a five-year-old brat who went to daycare with Silvie. His parents let him watch anything and everything on TV, which meant he was constantly filling Silvie’s little head with bullshit and scary stories.

The worst part? He wasn’t even doing it to be mean. So far as I could tell, little Cody had a serious crush on our Silvie girl.

“Cody doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” I said. “Would I lie to you about ghost monkeys?”

She cocked her head at me, then shook it gravely.

“Let’s go look in the closet together,” I said. “I’ll show you it’s safe, and then I’ll use some of my monster spray just to be sure.”

We crawled out of bed. She held my hand while I grabbed a spray can of vanilla-scented air freshener I’d bought for just this purpose. Then we stepped across the hall. I heard murmuring voices from the kitchen—apparently Cookie had company. We were coming up on the one-year anniversary of the death of her husband, Bagger, in Afghanistan. She was doing pretty well all things considered, which meant she wasn’t doing that great at all, but she hadn’t rolled over and died, either.

Cookie impressed the hell out of me.

“The monkeys were there,” Silvie said, pointing to the closet fearfully. I flipped on the bedroom light and walked over to the door, opening it.

“No ghost monkeys,” I declared, taking a few seconds to examine every inch, knowing it would make a difference to her. I even checked behind the hanging clothes.

Wasn’t the first time I’d had to inspect Silvie’s closet for monsters.

“Spray,” she demanded.

I coated the small space thoroughly with air freshener.

“There we go,” I said. “No way ghost monkeys or any other creatures will get in there now.”

“Thank you,” Silvie whispered, wrapping her arms around my legs.

“Any time,” I muttered, fighting back a yawn. Shit, I needed some coffee. “Let’s go find something to eat.”

“Mommy’s in the kitchen talking to Uncle Deke.”

Interesting.

So much for Cookie sleeping in.

“Uncle Deke” came to visit a lot. He was the president of the Portland Reapers chapter, and he’d been looking out for Cookie since she moved down from Coeur d’Alene. I couldn’t tell whether he was just taking good care of a brother’s widow or there was more going on.

If so, I was pretty sure Cookie hadn’t noticed him.

I walked in to find them sitting at the kitchen table, coffee cups between them. A box of doughnuts sat on the counter.

I didn’t know Deke very well. He was probably around thirty years old, although hard to tell for sure. I knew he’d been in the Marines before joining the club, so I figured he understood what Cookie was going through better than most. He was a big guy, powerfully built, and one of his arms had been burned pretty bad. Now scars roped it, although it’d missed his hand. Some guys would keep that covered up.

I’d never seen Deke in a long-sleeved shirt.

“These doughnuts for anyone?” I asked, drifting toward the counter.

“Help yourself,” Deke answered. He and Cookie had fallen silent, and I wondered what they’d been talking about.

“Silvie, baby, let’s go get you dressed,” Cookie said. She smiled at me, the hint of sadness she always wore these days firmly in place. Even her hair seemed different since Bagger’s death. The wild, red corkscrew curls were somehow flatter.

She took Silvie’s hand and walked her out, leaving me alone with Deke.

“How’s shit with you?” he asked. I shrugged and smiled.

“Is that you asking or my dad?”

“More me bein’ polite than anything,” he said, his face unreadable. “You know we’re here if you need us, but I got better things to do than babysit. Glad someone’s in the house with Cookie, though.”

“Yeah, I’m happy to be here,” I said. “She’s doing me a huge favor. I won’t be able to work much once my program gets started, so keeping costs down is pretty important. Win-win for both of us.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out, offering him a quick look of apology.

“Tell Cookie I said good-bye,” he said, standing. I nodded, then looked at my phone.

HUNTER: How you doing?

Shit. I glanced at Deke, but he wasn’t paying attention to me at all. Good, because I was pretty sure my guilty vibes were strong enough for him to sense if he bothered.

ME: Good. I thought we weren’t going to do this anymore.

I’d told Hunter to stop contacting me at least once a day since the party at his house. I suppose it made me a horrible person, but each time he got back in touch anyway, I felt the thrill all the way through my body.

HUNTER: Yeah … about that. I need to see you

ME: Skid was right. I wont be part of ruining you

HUNTER: Skid doesn’t know everything. Its more complicated. Thats my problem to deal with.

ME: No

HUNTER: Tonight

ME: I’m babysitting Silvie tonight

HUNTER: Then call when she’s asleep

ME: I’ll think about it

I thought about it, all right. I thought about it all day as I filled in at Cookie’s coffee shop. I continued to think about it while I made Silvie dinner (Kraft macaroni, because that shit is good) and while we had a bath (because that shit is messy). We checked for ghost monkeys and I monster-proofed the bedroom before tucking her in for the night. Then I went out into the living room and turned on the TV, still wondering if I should call Hunter.

Probably not.

Absolutely not.

I called Kit instead.

She didn’t answer. Not a huge surprise, considering it was a Friday night. Kit wasn’t really a stay-at-home-on-the-weekend kind of girl, and apparently she’d met some new man in one of her classes last Tuesday. Kit also wasn’t a wait-and-see kind of girl, so I’d be willing to bet she was putting him through his paces right now.

At ten thirty I turned off the TV and changed into a tank and some boxer shorts before slipping into bed. I considered my Kindle. Then I grabbed my phone and texted Hunter.

ME: What’s up?

HUNTER: At the house, hanging out. Clutch has a few girls over. Says its important to celebrate life or some such shit. Think he just wants to get laid as many times as possible while the pity fuck thing still works for him

ME: Poor guy

HUNTER: Heh. How about you?

ME: In bed. Silvie is sleeping and Cookie is at a friends house. She doesnt get out much so I told her she needed a night off

HUNTER: Hows she doing?

ME: Good I think. I like it here. Feels good to be treated like an adult

HUNTER: I’ll treat you like an adult … Call me?

HUNTER

I stared down at the phone, wondering if she’d do it. I’d promised myself I’d let her call first. Of course, I’d also promised myself I’d let her text first, and look at how long that’d lasted.

My phone rang.

Fuckin’ beautiful.

“Hunter?”

Her voice was soft and questioning, a whisper in the darkness. Holy shit, she sounded soft and pretty. Just texting with her was enough to get my dick up, but hearing her voice?

Made me so hard it hurt.

“Hey,” I said, falling back down on my bed. Outside my door I heard voices and the faint sound of music. Not too loud—the phone wouldn’t pick any of it up. Last thing I needed was her hearing whatever bullshit might be going on downstairs. “Call me Liam.”

“Hi, Liam,” she said. Damn. What was it about this girl?

“Fuck, Em. I missed talking to you. So you’re in bed?”

“Yeah,” she said, and I felt my balls tighten. I reached down and pushed on my denim-covered cock with the heel of my hand, the pressure sweet and painful all at once. Those pictures of hers did me in every time, but they had nothin’ on her voice. Husky and sweet, just for me.

Jesus, I wanted to drive over there and just pound her ’til she screamed. No, scratch that. I wanted her here, with me. In my bed. Riding my cock. Shouldn’t be so goddamned complicated to make that happen. I’d given almost a decade of my life to the club. Never complained, never held back. I’d done terrible things for the Devil’s Jacks. I’d keep doing them, too.

All I wanted in return was one thing. One girl. Of course it had to be the girl who could start a fucking war with a phone call …

I still wouldn’t give her up.

“This is bullshit,” I muttered. “Let me see you tomorrow. I’ll pick you up, we’ll go for a ride. Hell, it can be like a date or something.”

She laughed.

“Do people still date?”

“Fuck if I know,” I admitted. “Not my thing.”

“So you’re a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy?” she asked, her voice teasing.

“Yeah, but I leave my women happy,” I replied, rubbing my hand up and down my dick again. I imagined her lips wrapped around it and my hips arched a little. It took everything I had not to groan. Damn. I couldn’t think.

“I don’t know what to say to that,” she replied softly. “I don’t know, Liam. I want to … But is it a good idea?”

I gave a short laugh—she had no clue how bad an idea it was.

“No, probably not,” I said. “So why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing instead? No harm in that.”

I heard her breath catch. Would she answer?

“I’ve got a pink camisole, with pink and gray jammie shorts,” she said. “It feels weird talking about this. Should I have said I was wearing something sexy from Victoria’s Secret?”

“I can’t imagine anything sexier than what you just described,” I replied, and I meant every word. I’d jacked off to the pictures of her naked a hundred times—and yeah, I get how creepy that is, and no, I don’t give a shit—but hearing her talk about her little pink cami was fuckin’ hot. Em wasn’t some cover model or anything—nice curves without being super stacked. But those tits of hers were perfect for me in every way. Now I pictured them, spread out a little as she lay back in her bed, the nipples making little peaks in the soft fabric of her top.

I wanted to suck them into my mouth and roll them around until she screamed. Maybe bite them when I finally came after fucking her tight cunt for an hour. I slid the zipper on my jeans down, letting my cock pop out. Then I wrapped my hand around it.

“What are you wearing?”

“Jeans, an old T-shirt. Nothin’ special.”

“You look pretty special in jeans,” she whispered. Then she gave an awkward giggle. “That was so cheesy. I can’t believe I said that.”

“I’ll take it,” I replied, smiling.

“I’m just not real good at this. I mean, I know we’ve talked at night, but that was before … You know.”

She didn’t want to say it and I sure as shit didn’t need her remembering what I’d put her through.

“We’re not doing anything,” I said, slowly rubbing my cock up and down. I squeezed it hard, watching as fluid beaded up on the tip. “This is just two friends talking, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. “But there’s something I need to know first.”

“Ask,” I told her, hoping to hell it was a question I could answer.

“Liam, do you have an old lady tucked away somewhere? I mean, I know I don’t have any right to ask, but …”

That caught me off guard. What the hell? This was what I got for giving her space, I realized. Was someone filling her head with shit?

“No. Fuck no—where’d that come from?”

“Well, you say you’re not into relationships, but a lot of guys say that when they want to get laid,” she replied, sounding nervous. “Then it turns out they’re already with someone, just looking for something extra on the side. For all I know you’re married with ten kids. You’ve already lied to me about other stuff, and I know some of the brothers keep more than one woman.”

I coughed.

“If I was married with ten kids, I wouldn’t be talking on the phone with you. I’d be shooting myself in the fucking head.”

She laughed.

“So the answer is no?”

“The answer is definitely no,” I said. “I’ve slept around—I’m not ashamed of that. And I lied to you for my club. But I don’t have to trick girls to get laid.”

“So no more surprises?” she asked.

“No, straight up,” I answered, hoping she’d believe me. My phone beeped—another call—but I ignored it.

“Where are we going with this?” she asked. “Has anything changed? Or should we just hang up and end it before things get worse?”

I considered carefully before I answered.

“I don’t know,” I replied, and for once it was the truth. “You want me to be honest, so I’ll be honest. I don’t know what’s between us because it’s not like we’ve had a chance to explore it. You’re different than any other woman I’ve been with. I actually like talking to you about shit that’s not sex, but I won’t pretend that fucking you isn’t what I think about the most. Just your voice makes my dick stand on end, so I’ll take whatever I can get. If that’s just a phone call, don’t spoil it for me yet, okay?”

She didn’t say anything for a moment.

“I just slid my hand down into my boxers,” she whispered, and I swear a pint of blood left my brain. “I’m remembering what it felt like when you sucked my nipples. I want to lick your stomach.”

My entire body clenched. My fingers slid up my straining cock to find the beads of precome. I palmed my cockhead, then started jacking myself slow and hard.

Yeah, this was what I needed.

“Find your clit,” I told her, my voice going low. “Are you wet yet?”

“Yes,” she said. “I feel really weird doing this … Like I’m a whore or something, because the club—”

“You’re not a whore. And don’t think about the club. I don’t want you thinking about anyone else at all when you’re touching yourself, got me? Think about me and what I’m going to do to you the first chance I get.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll start by sliding my fingers deep inside your pussy, get them nice and wet. Then I might play with your clit.”

I heard her breath catch.

“I’m doing that right now,” she said. “What about you?”

“I’ve got my cock out and I’m jerking off while I listen to your voice,” I told her bluntly. “My balls are so fucking tight they feel like they’re in a vise, and I keep imagining how hot and slick you’d be around me right now.”

“Oh,” she whispered. Her breath caught again. “You’re better than my vibrator, you know that?”

The image of her using that vibrator filled my brain and I lost the power to speak. I felt my balls drawing up, my hand gripping my dick so hard it almost hurt.

Almost.

“How are you doing?” I asked, trying to slow myself down.

“Good,” she whispered.

“Tell me about it.”

“I’m rubbing my clit, one finger on each side,” she told me. “First up and down, and then I sort of wiggle them against each other. I’m using my other hand to play with my nipples. Your turn.”

I gave myself another hard tug, hips lifting. Hell, I was getting damned close. Usually I could last for hours, but something about Em fucked with me on every level.

“Jesus, wish I was better with words,” I muttered. “Honest to fuck, Em. I’m pretty close to blowing my load. Picturing you getting yourself off makes me feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

“You want me to stop?” she asked, her voice almost playful. My dick spasmed and my balls drew up tight. Shit shit shit.

“If you stop—” I started to say, and then the door to my room burst open.

“The fuck?” I yelled, sitting up and dropping the phone with a crash.

“Get your ass out here,” Skid said, his voice grim.

I decided to shoot him.

I let my cock go and reached for the gun sitting on the bedside table, but he held up a hand.

“You gonna get off the phone?” he asked, giving me a pointed look. I couldn’t think—all the blood in my body was currently concentrated in my dick. My balls seized up and I realized I was in for some serious pain.

“Liam, are you okay?” I heard Em’s voice, high-pitched and tinny. I reached down and grabbed the phone, pulling myself together.

“It’s fine, babe,” I said, glaring at Skid. He shook his head and made a slashing motion across his throat. “I have to go, though. Skid needs help with something. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait—” she started to say, but I hung up.

“This had better be really, really fucking important,” I told my club brother. “You got shit timing.”

“It is,” he said. “Put away your joystick and get your ass downstairs. We got serious trouble.”

I walked painfully down the narrow stairwell to the living room. Damn house was a hundred years old and it showed. Zipping up my jeans hurt like a bitch and I decided the next time I needed information from someone, I’d torture the fucker by making him talk to Em, then turn off the call and force him to put on my pants.

Like most Friday nights, we’d had company. It hadn’t been a formal party, but Skid and the other guys had invited a group of slutty girls over. Not quite a real clubhouse, but better than nothing. Now two of those girls were naked and making out on the couch. Another had passed out cold on the floor and I heard more laughing in the kitchen.

Typical night for us.

It wasn’t normal for the girls to be playing alone, though. They were putting on a hell of a show, and it went against everything my club brothers believed in to miss live girl-on-girl action.

“Down here,” Skid yelled. I followed his voice to the basement stairs. It was a dankish pit kind of a place, but it had its uses. Smoking out, storing product, laundry, and even one memorable night when this hippie chick did some kind of weird talking-to-spirits thing …

It was also where we had church. Not that we were a real chapter or anything, but we essentially functioned as one, complete with formal meetings and the occasional vote.

“This better be fuckin’ good,” I muttered as I climbed down. Clutch lay back on the ratty couch next to the semifunctional washer and dryer, his bum leg propped up on the armrest. Grass paced back and forth, muttering, while Skid leaned against the washer, fingers tapping a rhythm restlessly against the ancient metal.

“Got news,” Grass said, eye twitching. Fuck, was he tweaking? I’d told him no more, but it’d been a rough couple of weeks. He stopped pacing and rubbed his chin mindlessly, the motion spasmodic.

Yup, he was. Great, because we needed one more thing to worry about.

“Toke is dead,” Skid said. I glanced at him sharply.

“How?”

“They found him this morning,” he replied. “Still in protective custody, but his throat was slit. No explanation. Word just filtered down—I guess Picnic called Burke.”

I raised my brows.

“No shit?”

“Gets weirder,” he continued. “Reapers want to know how we pulled it off. Burke bullshitted them, bought us some time to investigate. He wants to know if you arranged something. You been playin’ games without tellin’ the rest of us?”

I cocked my head, feeling something dark building inside me.

“Don’t care for your tone, brother,” I said slowly and carefully. “One, I didn’t do shit—but if I had, that’d be between me and Burke. Two, why is Burke talkin’ to you and not me?”

Skid offered a twisted smile.

“He called you first, asshole. You didn’t answer. What were you doin’ that’s more important than takin’ a call from your VP? Seein’ as I found you on the phone with your dick hangin’ out, you might wanna consider what you plan to tell him very carefully.”

Shit. I shut my eyes and shook my head, rubbing my temples.

“Jesus, Skid,” Grass snapped, his voice high-pitched and trembling. “Stop being such a little bitch. What are you, jealous?”

We both looked at him, startled. Grass threw up his hands, clearly frustrated and even twitchier than before. He wasn’t done yet, either.

“What does Burke want from us?” Grass demanded. “I’ll bet it’s the Reapers that took him out. He fucked them over, and now they’re tryin’ to blame us. Use it as an excuse to end the truce.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Skid snarled. “Jesus, Grass. You need to lay off that shit, it’s makin’ you paranoid. Reapers want peace, too. They don’t need an excuse to go to war. They wanna fight, they’ll just start shooting. It’s entirely possible they killed Toke—fucker betrayed his club, no surprise there. But I don’t think they’d come callin’ if that was the case.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot!”

“Shut the fuck up!” I roared. The two men jumped. “Christ, what are we, fucking children? Skid—did Burke have anything he wanted us to do?”

Skid scowled.

“No,” he admitted. “Although he said to watch out. Until we know who killed Toke and why, we need to assume there’s a new player.”

“Cartel?” Clutch asked. “You think they have the contacts this far north to pull off a hit in protective custody?”

We all stilled. Shit. Not a comforting thought.

“Okay, we need to assume there’s someone local we don’t know about, someone with that kind of power,” I said slowly. “Time for more security. Make sure you check in with each other, and we all start carrying. Grass, when you stop seein’ shit that isn’t real, I want you to make sure Clutch has a place in his truck that’s safe from a search, okay? Can’t risk a parole violation. Anyone else need help rigging up something for their bikes?”

“It’s covered,” Skid said, sighing. “Sorry, Hunter. Didn’t mean to be such a dick.”

“Fair enough,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. Christ, what a night.

“I fucking hate Portland,” Grass announced suddenly. “This town is like hell, only cold. It rains all the time, like we’re living underwater, and now we have to worry about the cartel, too? Getting away from them was the only good part about moving north.”

“We’re doing our jobs,” I reminded him, my voice cooling as I moved into enforcer mode. Enough of this shit. “Burke needs us here—we all agreed to it—so stop whining. He wants active intel, and that means we’re in Portland until he says otherwise.”

Skid crossed his arms, silently backing me up. God, I wanted to kill him sometimes, but I had to give him credit—he always put the club first, and that meant keeping discipline. He never let it get personal.

Grass glared at me, but he closed his mouth. He knew damned well I was right. He also knew I’d make an example of him in a heartbeat if I had to. We couldn’t afford kindness, not with the club divided and elections coming.

“We have a problem?” I asked Grass bluntly. He held my gaze a moment longer, then shook his head. I glanced down at Clutch, deciding I was way too sober for this shit.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Leg hurts like a motherfucker, but I’ll pop some pills so it’s all good.”

“Pussy,” Skid taunted, rolling his eyes. “Been a full two months since Toke tortured you. You still whining?”

Clutch let out a choked snort and shook his head. The tension broke and just like that, it was all good. Thank fuck for Skid—it’d been a long stretch in this water-logged city without allies, but every time we found ourselves at each other’s throats, he’d step in and somehow make it better. The guy had a gift when he chose to use it.

I flipped the guys off and climbed back upstairs.

The chicks on the couch had passed out, and I didn’t see anyone in the kitchen. I used my foot to roll the girl on the floor out of my way, grabbed a beer, then flopped down in a chair and clicked on the TV.

Porn. Of course.

Naturally, that made me think of Em fingering herself, and I wondered if I should call her back. I decided not to—it was late and the mood wasn’t right. Not only that, I wasn’t sure I could handle hearing her husky, sexy little voice calling me Liam again. My balls fucking hurt, and not in a good way.

A few minutes later, Clutch hobbled in and sat down on the couch next to the girls. Together we watched some redhead with giant implants get fucked up the ass on the big screen.

“Shit,” Clutch said after a few minutes. “The high-def has totally ruined porn. Are those ingrown hairs?”

I choked on my beer, and he grinned at me.

“Jackass.”

Chapter Twelve

Em filled my dreams.

Her ice-blue eyes—surrounded by thick, dark lashes—peeked up at me as she thoughtfully licked the tip of my hard-on, then slowly sucked it into her mouth. I knew she didn’t have a hell of a lot of experience, but damn she sucked dick like a pro.

Her hand wrapped around my shaft and I bucked up.

Fuck, that was worth the wait.

Then she drew me even deeper, taking me into her throat, catching me off guard.

How the hell did she know how to do that?

I felt a sudden desire to kill the owner of whatever cock she’d been practicing on. Her tongue flicked the underside of my dickhead, fluttering, and I forgot all about my upcoming murder plans. I stiffened, my balls tight and ready to blow, but my brain was starting to question the whole situation.

What was wrong here?

Em sucked hard, humming deep in her throat as she bobbed faster and faster. Her other hand reached down between my legs, rolling my balls with her fingers as she sped up. I was close, so I reached down to touch her head, give her a warning.

Wait. Em’s hair wasn’t this short.

But her mouth was so goddamned hot and wet. Shit. I couldn’t think. I’d never dreamed she’d know so many tricks, and some small part of me started to consider murder again. My Em wasn’t so innocent anymore, and whoever taught her would answer—

I lost the thought as my load exploded, blowing the world apart. Holy shit, I needed that.

Wait. Those weren’t dream lips on my cock.

Adrenaline hit and my eyes opened.

“The fuck?” I demanded, looking down to find one of the carpet munchers from last night slowly licking my come off her lips. I jackknifed up and backhanded her, knocking her off the bed with a crash.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Fucking cunt!”

She clutched her cheek and looked up at me, eyes filling with tears.

“You didn’t like it?” she whispered, looking confused. Her pupils were tiny, tiny pinpricks and I saw tracks on her arm. I was lucky she’d sucked me off instead of stealing my wallet or stabbing me. Wait. No. Stealing the wallet would definitely be better …

I pulled that shit on a girl, they’d call me a fuckin’ rapist.

Goddamned junkie.

“I’m supposed to like some random stranger sneaking into my room and putting her mouth on my dick without asking?” I demanded. “You don’t fucking touch me without permission, bitch. Some guy did that to you, you’d be screaming rape. Christ.”

I swung my legs out of the bed. She fell backward, scuttling away from me like a crab. I rubbed a hand through my hair, trying to focus.

Shit, but Em had me all twisted up and making stupid mistakes. Men like me don’t sleep with the door unlocked. I didn’t normally sleep heavy, either—breaking into my room was an invitation to meet my gun, no apologies.

Yet this junkie not only got in, she invaded my dream about Em.

Fuck.

The bitch pushed to her feet and darted out of the room, which was a damned good thing. If I had to look at her again, I’d throw her through a fucking wall.

Then it hit me.

Since when did a surprise blow job piss me off?

My phone dinged somewhere in the covers. I dug through them, trying to find it. Was it even morning yet?

I found it and saw the time—six a.m. I’d been asleep for two whole hours before Princess Sucky Fucky came in to kiss me awake. I checked my messages, wondering who the hell would be texting me this early. Hell. Burke. His words were short and sweet.

BURKE: We have a situation. Call me

Wasn’t that just perfect—exactly what I needed to start my day. But there was a message from Em, too. Sent while I was downstairs drinking beer and watching porn with Clutch.

EM: Hey—thinking of you. Hope everything is okay. I’m sorry you had to go. Also sorry I had to finish by myself …

And there went my dick again—so much for the morning head. I pulled on my pants and took a quick piss across the hall. Then I dug out a burner phone and called Burke.

“What’s up?” I asked him, hoping to hell it wasn’t war with the Reapers. “This about Toke? Was that us?”

“Nope,” Burke said. “That’s a mystery hit. I wish we had that kind of pull up there. Not that I was upset to get the news … But we got a bigger problem. Someone took a couple potshots at Mason last night, at his old lady’s house.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. This was serious. “He okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Burke said. “But it’s the tipping point—he’s done. Says he’s held on as long as he can, but that he wants to die with his family, not in the middle of a war.”

“Shit.” Mason stepping down meant that Burke—as VP—would take over as national president. But not an elected president. Throw in the fact that the club was divided about the Reaper truce and what direction we should be moving …

“I wonder if it’s an inside job,” I mused. “Puts you in a tough spot. Things are already weird with the Toke situation, Reapers are trigger happy. Now you have to take over right as we’re lookin’ at a war. No vote means you’re weak.”

“Could be,” Burke said. “Hate to think of one of our own doing this. Unfortunately, some of our brothers aren’t worth much these days.”

“Yup,” I said. Damn club was falling apart around our ears. “Of course, it could be the cartel.”

“Or the Reapers.”

Silence fell for a minute.

“Drake will step up as VP,” Burke said. “That means I’ll need a sergeant at arms. I know we wanted to wait for elections, but consider this your call, son. I’ll need you in Salem tomorrow. Officers are gathering, we’ll put you in place then.”

I felt myself sway.

I’d been waiting for this a hell of a long time … but shit. Things were so up in the air with Em right now, on top of everything else.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “And after that?”

“You’re with me,” he said. “We’ll keep Skid and the boys in Portland for now. I still want a presence there, even more important now. Pack your shit, we’ll be traveling light. I figure the next few weeks’ll get interesting. Bring Skid with you when you come down, got me?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to wrap my head around it. I hung up the burner and sighed, flopping back down on my bed. I needed more sleep. Sleep, and then I’d figure out what the hell I was doing.

I didn’t text Em back.

No idea what I’d say to her anyway.

EM

Water hit me in the face.

I screamed, falling out of bed to find my witch of a sister standing over me, laughing her ass off.

Note to self: Tell Cookie to never let Kit in the house again.

“You’re a bitch,” I muttered, wiping off my face with the sheet.

“True,” she said thoughtfully. “But I’m the bitch who’s here to take you shopping. I need a new purse.”

“They don’t have stores in Olympia?”

“They have stores,” she said. “But they don’t have my sister. I’m so excited to have you close—it’s like we’re back in high school again!”

“You were a bitch then, too.”

She picked up my phone.

“Oohhh,” she said. “What happened last night? I see a long phone call to Hunter and then a text saying you finished alone? You want to tell me what that’s all about?”

I climbed out of bed and pulled off my cami, flinging it at her. It landed on her head and dripped water into her hair, but she didn’t even seem to notice.

“We talked for a while,” I said. “Then he had to go. What time is it?”

“Almost noon,” she said absently. “So you can’t really blame me for throwing water on you. How else would I wake you up?”

“Some people use words.”

“Boring people. You want to shower before we go? I really do need a purse. We’ll go shopping, then come back here and fix dinner for Cookie. Then Kelsey and I are taking you dancing.”

“Kelsey?”

“Hunter’s sister,” she said. “We’ve been in touch. No offense, but I think me and her have way more in common than me and you. She’s in touch with her inner bitch, and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“I see that,” she said, holding up the phone with a wicked grin. “I’m really proud of you. You should try calling him now.”

She hit a button and handed me the phone already ringing. I glared at her, but it was too late to hang up. He’d know I called, so might as well play it through. Unfortunately, he didn’t answer.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said, glaring at Kit. “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

I hung up.

“Good,” Kit said. “You’ve made a move. Now you’re going to leave your phone here while we shop, so you can’t answer if he calls back.”

“Why?”

“Don’t want to sound too eager,” she said thoughtfully. “You not only talked to him last night, but you’ve already texted and called, too.”

“I didn’t call,” I said pointedly.

“He doesn’t know that. You want to shower before we go? No offense, but you look like shit.”

“I’m not sure I like living closer to you.”

“You love me and you know it.”

Unfortunately, I did.

Six hours later we pulled back into Cookie’s driveway, the car full of Chinese carryout and three new purses. Two for Kit and one for me. Not that I needed a new bag, but it would’ve been rude not to buy anything at all, right?

“Sorry we aren’t cooking,” I apologized as I walked in the door. “We sort of lost track of time. Hope takeaway is all right?”

Cookie glanced up from the couch, where she sat reading with Silvie.

“If I don’t have to cook it, I don’t care where it comes from,” she said. “Silvie, help me clear off the coffee table. Let’s have a picnic out here, sound good?”

Silvie loved that idea, and after another five minutes we were opening boxes of hot, steaming food.

“Where are you girls going tonight?” Cookie asked.

“Just downtown,” Kit said. “Meeting up with a friend, doing some dancing. That kind of thing.”

“Be careful,” Cookie said. “Deke tells me things are a little unsettled.”

“He give any details?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “But if it was serious, they’d let us know. Just don’t get too drunk, okay?”

We promised, finishing our dinner. Then we got slutted up in my room and I realized I’d gone all afternoon without my phone. I searched through my covers, turning it on hopefully.

Hunter hadn’t called, though.

Nope, just a quick text.

HUNTER: Sorry I had to go last night. I’ll catch up with you later. Lot going on

“That’s not very exciting,” Kit said, biting her lip thoughtfully. “He should be all over you by now.”

“Well, he said he was busy.”

“No man is too busy to get laid,” she replied, her voice knowing. “Speaking of, that’s what you’ll be doing tonight. I’ve made up my mind.”

“What?”

“Getting laid. Before we leave the club tonight, we’re finding someone for you to sleep with. Hunter wants a piece of your ass, he’ll have to stand in line.”

“Do I get a vote in this?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Do you ever?”

Kit made good on her threat. Ten minutes after we walked into the club, she’d scoped out six different guys she’d decided might be worthy of my bed. I flipped her off and bought myself a beer. I wasn’t interested in sleeping with some random asshole in a bar.

Still, as the night progressed and no word from Hunter, I got a little annoyed. I’d had phone sex with him just the night before, and now nothing? Not that he owed me anything. I knew that. But the fact that I didn’t have the right to be annoyed was even more annoying.

I drank another beer.

An hour later Kelsey joined us at the club. She was definitely a little rough around the edges, but I decided I liked her. She and Kit really were alike in so many ways it was scary. Put them together on the dance floor and the men didn’t have a chance.

Not that I did too poorly myself.

I had no intention of bringing anyone home, but after a while I found a cute guy to hang out with. His name was Devon, he was tall and somewhat built, and he smelled pretty good when he wrapped his arms around me. He had clean-cut looks, the total opposite of Hunter in every way. Kit gave me a silent thumbs-up in approval. Kelsey told me pointedly that her brother could kick his ass without even noticing.

I told Kelsey that Hunter wasn’t around, so he couldn’t kick anyone’s ass. She flipped me off and I decided she could go screw herself, along with her stupid brother who couldn’t call me back after hanging up mid-phone-sex. Fortunately, Devon was a great distraction. We alternated dancing, talking, and drinking, and gradually I learned that he was in as fucked-up a nonrelationship as mine.

Well, maybe not quite as fucked-up. I didn’t ask, but so far as I could tell, he hadn’t actually been involved in a kidnapping.

But other than that, things were about the same.

It made him the perfect partner for the evening, and it got Kit off my back, too. Of course, Kelsey continued to scowl at me, but I didn’t give a shit about her. I might like her all right, but I wasn’t looking for a new best friend. Anyway, once I established Devon as “safe,” I let myself go and enjoyed his company, leaving Ms. Grumpy scowling behind me. We danced to almost every song, and nothing I did was too dorky for Devon.

To be fair, he was kind of dorky himself, and so funny I got to the point where I couldn’t stop laughing. Seriously. I had this giant laughing fit and I couldn’t stop and he kept doing weirder dance moves and it was insane.

“Make it end,” I gasped, clutching my stomach. “I’m gonna puke if you don’t stop.”

He stopped. Abruptly.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe how weird you are,” I giggled, but he didn’t laugh back or smile or anything. I cocked my head.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Your friend is going home now,” a deep, familiar voice said behind me. “Right?”

Devon nodded, then took off without even saying good-bye. Rude. I turned slowly to find Hunter behind me, his sister standing next to him, smirking.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said. “I tried calling but you never answered. Then I happened to talk to Kelsey and she mentioned you were here.”

I narrowed my eyes at Kelsey, who didn’t even bother trying to look innocent.

“You had all day to get in touch with me,” I told Hunter, bracing my hands on my hips. “Now I’ve made other plans. I’m hanging out with my sister tonight. Family first.”

“Kit took off with some guy half an hour ago,” Kelsey said smugly. “She texted you a heads-up and made me promise to make sure you got home safe.”

My eyes widened, and I whipped out my phone. Sure enough, there was a missed call and a text from Kit. There were also three missed calls and two texts from Hunter.

Oops.

Guess I’d silenced it completely, instead of just putting it on vibrate.

“What the hell is she thinking?” I muttered. “Kit’s lost her mind. And I’m sorry I didn’t get your messages, Hunter, but I do have the right to go out and enjoy myself. You had no business running off Devon, either.”

“He was pretty easy to run off,” Hunter said, his tone dry. Then his face grew serious. “Em, I really need to talk to you. Think we can get out of here?”

I wanted to tell him no, to take himself right to hell. He’d left me hanging and then he hadn’t gotten back in touch all day … But his face said this was important, so indulging myself in a snit was probably off the table.

Deke said things were unsettled.

Fuck.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” I said. We grabbed our stuff and walked Kelsey to her car. I’d be having words with Kit later, I decided, thumb-typing her a quick update. I knew it wasn’t the first time she’d taken off with a random pickup, but she really needed to be more careful. I loved my sister so much, but for all her personality and spark, she had a pretty strong self-destructive streak.

It scared me sometimes.

“Bike’s this way,” Hunter said, catching my hand as Kelsey drove off. He tugged me toward an alley and I followed.

“What’s going on?” I asked, feeling awkward. “Obviously something is wrong. Is it us? Club drama? I swear to God, if you kidnap me again, I’ll let them kill you this time.”

I said it like a joke, but I wasn’t entirely kidding. That shit was not going to be my new way of life.

“I have to leave tomorrow,” Hunter said, starting down the alley. It was dark and while I could hear people, I couldn’t see anything but the narrow path between the buildings. I started to get that uncomfortable feeling again. I tried to tug my hand loose, but he wouldn’t let me go.

Fuck.

I stopped, digging in my heels.

“I’m not going anywhere with you unless you tell me what’s happening,” I said, eyes darting as I scoped out my options. It wasn’t particularly promising. The narrow passage was dark, and a big Dumpster blocked the street view.

Great. Was I walking into another trap?

“Club business,” Hunter said, tugging on my hand again. I refused to move. “Em, I’m not trying to do anything. My bike’s on the other side of the block. I just figured this would be faster than walking all the way around.”

I studied his face, trying to decide if he was fucking with me. Shadows covered his face, making him look like some kind of comic-book villain.

“I’m calling a cab,” I said abruptly, reaching for my phone.

“Fuck it,” Hunter muttered, and then he grabbed my waist, lifting me and carrying me two steps to the wall. He shoved me up against it. Then his hand was in my hair, twisting to hold me captive for his kiss.

He took my mouth hard, forcing me to open for his tongue. Then he was inside and I thought I might die because it felt so good. His other hand pushed up my shirt, shoving the cup of my bra up and over my boob, palming me as his hips pushed into my stomach.

Whatever other bullshit Hunter might have going on in his life, one thing was for sure.

He hadn’t lost interest in having sex with me.

Of course, that had never been our problem. His mouth tore loose as we both took deep, gasping breaths and stared at each other. Then his hands came down under my ass, hoisting me and wrapping my legs around his waist. My short skirt pushed up around the tops of my thighs, but I didn’t give a shit.

Nope.

All I cared about was the unreal, amazing sensation of his denim-covered cock against my panties. He started that slow thrust that’d destroyed me last time. My head fell back against the brick wall. I’d probably have some scrapes there in the morning.

I didn’t give a shit.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and thrust against him, desperate to feel him inside me. God. Oh God, I wanted this man. More than sex, too. I knew in that moment I was well and truly screwed, because nothing had ever felt more right in my life than his arms around me, and it had nothing to do with sex.

Well, maybe a little …

“You have a condom?” I gasped. Hunter didn’t stop the hard, spasmodic thrust of his hips, but I swear he growled.

“Yeah, but it shouldn’t be like this. Fuck, Em. You deserve so much better than what I have to offer you.”

“Just screw me already.”

He froze against me, panting, then set me down with a groan. I reached down to pull off my panties and stuffed them into the little purse hanging from my shoulder. Hunter ripped his pants open, and I watched in panting fascination as he rolled on a condom.

Then his hands reached for my thighs, shoving up the skirt as he lifted me again. Jesus, he was so strong, it was like I weighed nothing. I felt his cock against my bare skin as I wrapped my legs around him, his length silky steel against my opening. Then my back hit the wall and he shoved into me.

I screamed.

Holy shit. I’d expected Hunter to go slow for the first time … (Although I’d expected to be in a bed, too, not some nasty alley.) Instead, he slammed home and I felt it all the way in the back of my throat. I cried out again, then leaned forward and bit the side of his neck. His cock jerked inside me as he groaned. Then he started moving.

I don’t even know how to describe what I felt. Hunter didn’t hold back at all, nothing. I took all of him and I knew I’d be sore as hell in the morning, but I didn’t give a shit. The stretch of his cock deep inside, the pain of his fingers digging into my ass cheeks?

I loved it.

My body was a mess of lust and longing and desire, all trapped inside for way too long. I didn’t care that people were walking up and down the street not ten yards away. I could smell the trash from the Dumpster, I could see the strip of stars shining above us through the tops of the buildings, and it all just added to the intensity of the moment. I felt encapsulated, caught up in a moment that would last forever.

Objectively, we didn’t hold on for very long.

Hunter’s cock dragged along my clit with every thrust, and he paused to grind himself against me in a way that pushed me right up to the edge of sanity. Then he pulled back and slammed into me again. I swear the tip of his cock tried to push through my cervix, he went so deep.

That did it.

I cried as I blew up, clenching down on him deep inside while my fingernails tried to dig through the leather of his cut.

Holy shit …

Hunter grunted and thrust four more times, and then he came, too, cursing. I couldn’t believe nobody heard us or tried to see what we were doing. If they had, I wouldn’t have given a shit.

I’d done it.

I’ve finally done it, I realized with a thrill, tears rolling down my face. I didn’t even care that my back was raw, or that I’d be walking funny for a week. I didn’t regret any of it, not for an instant.

“Well, that was pretty good,” I said after a minute, sniffling.

Hunter grunted, lowering me to my feet.

“Glad it was adequate,” he said wryly, leaning down to kiss the tip of my nose. I pulled away from him, straightening my skirt and digging for my panties. Now I felt weirdly embarrassed.

“Um, can you turn around and give me some privacy?” I asked.

Hunter just looked at me, a strange expression on his face.

“No.”

Well, that was direct. I decided getting out of the alley was more important than exploring our postcoital boundaries, so I pulled up my panties with as much dignity as I could under the circumstances. Hunter caught my hand, tugging me back into his body. His hand slid into my hair again, this time the fingers gentle, and he kissed my bruised lips softly.

“That was fuckin’ incredible, babe.”

“Yeah. I know,” I said, smirking through my still-watery eyes. I must’ve looked like a clown.

Hunter smacked my ass.

“Don’t get cocky on me yet,” he muttered. “I’m not finished with you.”

Unfortunately, he was finished, because that’s when everything fell to shit.

Chapter Thirteen

HUNTER

Em’s phone blew up first.

We’d just reached the bike when the first call came through. She dug it out of her purse and frowned down at the number.

“It’s Dad,” she muttered. “I wonder if he has radar that tells him I just did something he’d hate?”

She sent the call to voice mail, laughing up at me like we shared a secret, which I guess we did. But then the cell went off again. This time it was Cookie.

“Shit,” Em swore. “Do you think he called her?”

“Answer,” I told her, feeling uncomfortable. Things had gone way too well this evening—we were due for disaster. She nodded and took the call, and I knew it was bad by the way she gasped and swayed. That was when my own phone went off. Burke.

“Yeah?” I answered.

“We got a serious problem,” he said. “Mason is dead.”

“Fuck,” I said, keeping a close eye on Em. She’d started pacing with short, jerky strides. “I didn’t realize we were quite so close to the end.”

“It wasn’t the cancer that got him,” Burke replied, his voice grim. “Someone shot him execution-style in his own bedroom. His old lady found him. She was out of the house when it happened, thank fuck.”

“He was alone?” I asked, startled. Mason shouldn’t have been alone, retirement plans or not.

“No,” Burke said. He paused, and my stomach sank, because nothing good happens after pauses like that one. “He had two brothers with him, Tucker and Dob. They think Tucker’s gonna pull through. Dob was DOA.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. I glanced over at Em, who was dialing frantically. Whatever was going on there, it wasn’t good, either. “What do you need from me?”

“Get back to the house and lock everything down,” he said. “We’ve got three more reports of shots fired at different clubhouses, although no more injuries. This wasn’t just a hit. This is a declaration of war.”

“War with who?”

“Reapers or cartel,” he said. Em seemed to be arguing with someone over the phone. So fuckin’ pretty, I’d take her again right on the spot If I could. Damn. I hoped to hell I wouldn’t have to face off against her dad. “We figure it out, we hit them back hard. Plan on coming down tomorrow like we talked about, but take extra precautions to stay safe.”

“Got it,” I said, hanging up the phone. Em was still talking.

“Dad, I don’t know where Kit is,” she said. “If I knew, I’d tell you. For fuck’s sake, I realize this isn’t a game. Keep trying to call her and I’ll do the same, sooner or later she’ll have to look at her phone. She wouldn’t make us worry on purpose, but she’s probably busy right now.”

She paused again, giving me a quick look.

“She’s busy having sex, Dad,” she muttered. “No, I’m going home right now. And don’t send someone to get me—I have a ride.”

She fell silent again, and my stomach churned. If the Reapers were behind this, wouldn’t they have gotten her safe before it went down? Picnic wouldn’t risk his girls, I decided. And I couldn’t see them pulling off something this big without him on board.

Had to be the cartel.

“I’m with someone,” Em was saying. “He can give me a ride. Honest, it’s safe. He’ll protect me.”

Her eyes met mine. Then she took a deep breath and answered the question I couldn’t hear but I could sure as shit guess at.

“I’m with Hunter, Dad,” she said. Fire didn’t explode out of the phone, which kind of surprised me. I did hear yelling, and then Em’s face tightened.

“Deal with it,” she snapped. “He’ll keep me safe and give me a ride. But only if you promise the guys at Cookie’s house won’t do anything to him. Otherwise I’ll go to a hotel … I’ll get myself safe, but I won’t tell you where I am. I won’t let you use me to find him or hurt him.”

Something tightened in my chest and I couldn’t breathe for a second. I felt a surge of possessive pride in my girl. I wanted to grab her, kiss her hard, and then fuck her up against another wall. Or pretty much anywhere else, for that matter—the list of places I’d fantasized about doing her was nearly endless. She gave a frustrated growl, hanging up the phone.

“Things aren’t so good at home,” she said with quiet understatement. “I don’t want to be a hassle, but I think we need to find a hotel room.”

Normally I’d consider that was a great fuckin’ idea, but tonight was anything but the usual. She needed to be under guard. Much as I hated to admit it, right now the Reapers were her best bet for protection.

“Give me the phone.”

She shook her head.

“Em, give me the fuckin’ phone,” I growled. “I don’t know what’s happening on your end, but a bunch of my brothers got shot up in the last hour and two of them are dead. I don’t have time to argue with you or find you a goddamned hotel when you should be with your club. I want you safe so I don’t have to worry about you.”

“We lost a brother in Boise tonight,” she said slowly. “Dad wants me locked down. They think it was Jacks, Liam …”

My name on her lips twisted something up inside my chest. Looking back, I think that’s the instant I made my decision. I wasn’t going to give her up. Ever. I’d die first.

“It wasn’t the Jacks,” I told her. We’d have to talk about “us” later. I needed time to think, and I wanted her ass off the street. For once, I agreed with Hayes. “Please, Em. Let me talk to him.”

She shook her head slowly, but she handed over the phone and I hit the callback button.

“Baby, we don’t have time to argue,” Picnic said.

“It’s Hunter.”

Silence.

“What are you doing with my daughter?” he demanded, his voice like ice. He didn’t give anything away, but he had to be scared for his children. Last time we’d talked like this, I’d threatened to kill her. Hell, I completely understood why he hated me after that. Sometimes I hated me, too.

“I’m trying to take her somewhere safe,” I said, my voice steady. Unthreatening, but not showing any weakness, either. “I think the best place—at least for tonight—is with the Reapers, but I need more information. We’ve got two men dead. If that wasn’t you, now would be a good time to tell me. My brothers will want blood.”

More silence. Then he spoke.

“It wasn’t us. We’ve got our own casualties. One dead, two in the ER. Someone took potshots at four clubhouses, including Portland. Care to tell me what you and your brothers were doin’ earlier tonight?”

Your daughter, up against a wall in a dirty alley.

Yeah, probably best not to mention that.

“The Jacks aren’t behind this. It’s the cartel. Has to be. Unless you know another crew we’ve both pissed off? Because someone executed our national president tonight, and fingers are already pointing your direction.”

“Fuck me …” Picnic said slowly. Silence fell between us as we processed the situation. “You playin’ games with me?”

“I wish to hell this was a game,” I said. I reached out and pulled Em into my side, eyes sweeping the street for danger. I wanted her behind walls. “I want to take her home, Pic. Only way that happens is if you give me safe passage. No fuckin’ way I’m letting her go to a hotel without protection, so if I can’t take her to her people, she’ll be staying with me.”

“She with you voluntarily?”

“Yup,” I replied.

“Shit,” he muttered. Then he sighed. “Daughters are a curse. The other one isn’t even answering her phone … At least Em’s safe right now, although I hate to give you credit for that. Can’t say the same about Kit.”

“We’re in the open here,” I told him, losing patience. “No reason they’d know where I am, but I’m not comfortable just standing on the street. Tell me where to take her.”

“Bring her to Cookie,” Picnic said. “I’ll call Deke, he’ll make sure you get in and back out without trouble.”

About fuckin’ time.

“Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for protecting her. You get her home safe, I’ll consider it a personal favor.”

I felt a grim smile steal across my face. He wouldn’t thank me if he had any clue what I’d been doing to his baby girl fifteen minutes ago … Or what I had every intention of doing to her again as soon as I got her alone in a room with a bed. Little Emmy had a trip around the world in her future.

I shook my head, trying to clear the mental image. Damn.

“I don’t need your favors,” I told Picnic. “Tell me about Kit. You can’t get hold of her?”

“She’s not answering her phone,” he muttered. “Em says she took off with some guy, but she doesn’t know what he looks like. Fuck, Kit drives me crazy. Odds are good this prick’s got nothin’ to do with our situation, but I’m not gonna breathe easy until we find her.”

“My sister saw the guy,” I said. “Want me to have her call you?”

“I’d appreciate that.”

I hung up and handed the phone back to Em. Her eyes were haunted.

“How’d it go?” she asked. I shrugged.

“Hard to tell. Not as bad as it could’ve—he says it’s safe to take you home, and I believe him. He wants you behind walls more than he wants me dead. Let’s go.”

I swung a leg over my bike and she hopped up behind me. A true child of the MC, she didn’t think twice about climbing on in her little skirt. I kicked the scoot to life and we took off.

EM

Cookie’s small front yard was full of motorcycles. Like, full of motorcycles. Half the Portland brothers must’ve been there, which wasn’t a good sign.

Hunter still insisted on walking me to the door, despite the fact that two prospects stood in the yard eyeing him. In theory this was safe. Dad should’ve called ahead, made sure they knew he was coming … But walking into a Reaper stronghold with a Devil’s Jack felt like tempting fate.

Deke himself opened the door. He and Hunter were about the same height, although Deke’s build was heavier. Seeing them together, I was struck by how similar they were. Not in appearance … No, more in the way they held themselves, casually poised for violence, faces blank. I’d heard rumors about Deke over the years. They said he made people who caused trouble for the club go away. I glanced at Hunter with new eyes, realizing he’d never actually told me what he did for the Jacks.

Did he make people go away, too?

“Thanks for bringing her home,” Deke said, reaching for my arm. Hunter met his gaze, then took my chin and turned my head toward him. He leaned over and kissed me, slow and deliberate.

That kiss had nothing to do with sex. Nope, this was all about marking territory.

Dad’s head was going to explode.

“She’s here because you’ll keep her safe,” Hunter said. “Don’t know if Picnic told you, but we have our own problems tonight. I’m assuming we all got hit by the same crew.”

“Maybe,” Deke said, his eyes cold. “I find out you’re behind this, I won’t kill you fast, boy.”

Holy shit. Deke was scary.

“Night, Em,” Hunter said, ignoring the Portland president’s threat. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “I’ll call you later. Might not be right away, but don’t worry.”

Then he turned his back on us and walked back down to his bike. There was something almost cocky about the way he moved. Like he was taunting Deke. The Portland president pulled me into the house, shutting the door behind us. I tried to pass through to the kitchen, but he blocked me.

“Your dad know you’re fuckin’ the enemy?”

I swallowed, but I held firm.

“I’m an adult, Deke. What I do is my business.”

He crossed his arms and eyed me, something almost like disgust in his face.

“You’re a spoiled brat,” he said bluntly. “You and your sister both. I’ve never given a shit about that because you’re not my kid and you’re not my old lady.”

I gasped.

“Here’s the thing, though,” he continued. “You do anything—anything at all—that puts Cookie and Silvie in danger, I’ll kill you myself. We clear?”

I’d never had anyone talk to me like that. I knew my eyes must be wide and I had no idea what the hell I should say to him.

“Em!” Cookie called, running into the living room. Her face was red, like she’d been crying. She pushed past Deke to catch me in her arms, hugging me tight. “I can’t believe what’s happening. When Picnic called because he couldn’t get hold of you … I was terrified.”

“It’s all right,” I said, watching Deke over her shoulder. His face was still blank. Had I imagined what just happened? “I’m safe now. No word from Kit, though.”

Cookie pulled away.

“Shit,” she muttered. “I hoped she’d be in touch by now. You know anything about the guy she took off with? Your dad is nervous. He’s thinking it might be one of them … whoever they are. The shooters hit a pipe at the clubhouse, flooded the whole place. That’s why the guys are all here tonight.”

“It wasn’t the Devil’s Jacks,” I said firmly, and I believed it. The look of shock on Hunter’s face had been too real.

“We don’t know who it was,” Deke said. “And you don’t need to worry about that right now, anyway. Jumping to conclusions gets people killed. We’ll figure it out and then we’ll take care of business. Em, you keep trying to get hold of your sister, okay? Cookie, you might as well go to bed. Doesn’t matter how much drama we have tonight, Silvie’ll still be up at the crack of dawn and she’ll need her mama.”

“What about work?” Cookie asked him. “I’m supposed to open the shop tomorrow morning. I have a sitter coming over.”

Deke shook his head slowly.

“Either call someone in to cover for you or I’ll have one of the boys put a note on the door.”

Cookie got a funny look on her face.

“I’m a business owner, Deke,” she said. “I can’t just close up for the day.”

“You can tomorrow,” he said. “Until I know what’s goin’ on, you’re staying where it’s safe and I can have my guys watching you.”

Cookie crossed her arms, her face growing wary.

“I’m not an old lady anymore,” she said slowly. “In fact, I’m not attached to the club at all. Just because you guys check in on me doesn’t mean I’m a target. Or I wasn’t, until everyone parked their bikes on my lawn and made this your new headquarters.”

“Listen to me very carefully,” Deke said softly. “You’re one of ours, and you always will be. But I can’t afford to keep too many men on you. That means I need you and Silvie in one place, where I know you’re safe, so I can focus on what needs to be done. Either find someone to cover for you or the shop stays closed. Your call.”

He turned and walked away, leaving both of us staring at him.

“Fucked-up night,” Cookie muttered.

“No shit,” I answered, my voice subdued. “I think I’ll try calling Kit again. You going to do what he says?”

She nodded slowly, her eyes thoughtful.

“For now. They shot Swinger in Boise. He was a friend of Bagger’s, you know. Best man at our wedding.”

I looked over to find her twisting her wedding ring around her finger absently.

“I’m going to bed,” she said suddenly. “But come and get me if you hear from Kit, okay?”

“Okay.”

HUNTER

The ride down to Salem the next morning was fucking cold. It’d started raining right on the edge of Portland. Not bad. Just enough to make the trip utterly miserable. Some asshole in a Hummer nearly took out Skid on the freeway, which almost got ugly, seeing as we were both trigger happy and paranoid as hell.

Dickwad came damned close to getting shot.

When we pulled up to the Salem clubhouse, I saw a good fifty bikes parked outside. I’d known officers would be coming, but this was a bigger turnout than I’d expected.

Guess war will do that.

Skid and I backed our bikes into the line. He glanced over at the prospects standing guard, then gestured at me to wait before going in.

“Kelsey says you were with Em last night?” he asked. I bristled.

“I put Kelsey on a plane at six this morning. Picked her up at her place, and she won’t land for another hour. When the fuck did you talk to her?”

He just looked at me, and I clenched my teeth.

“I knew it,” I muttered. “She deserves better than you.”

“It’s none of your business,” he said.

“What I do with Em is none of your business, either.”

“Different situation. Fuckin’ Kelsey doesn’t put anyone in danger but me, and I’m pretty sure you won’t kill me outright unless I knock her up or something … But this shit with Em hurts the whole club, bro. You need to go in there and tell Burke.”

“Don’t lecture me, asshole. I know that. Or are you saying I can’t handle myself?”

“So long as you put the club first,” Skid said. “Burke needs us. Remember that.”

“Trust me, I never forget,” I snapped. “And don’t hurt my sister.”

Skid snorted.

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I was you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Ask her,” Skid muttered. “Trust me, she’s not the victim here.”

The atmosphere in the clubhouse was darker than I’d ever seen it. Burke sat in the back, talking to several of the chapter presidents. His eyes caught mine as I walked in, and he gestured me over. I realized this was it—decision time.

Might as well get it over with.

“I need a moment, Burke.”

He tilted his head, considering. Then he nodded.

“In my office,” he said. He stood and I followed him down the hallway, wondering how the next ten minutes would play out. You never knew with Burke. He’d been like a father to me … But he’d also taught me to kill.

He couldn’t afford to show mercy, especially not right now.

“Shut the door,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “What is it?”

“It’s Emmy Hayes,” I said, figuring it didn’t make sense to be anything less than direct. “I fucked her last night and I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing it again in the near future. Hopefully on a regular basis.”

He studied me, eyes cold like a snake’s. Sometimes I wondered why Burke helped me kill Jim all those years ago. At the time I thought he was saving us, that he didn’t like seeing two kids suffer. In retrospect, I wasn’t so sure.

Burke was always ten moves ahead of the rest of us. Had he seen an angry teenager and decided I might suit his purposes some day? The chance to shape a valuable asset for the club? I’d probably never know.

“You with her last night?”

“Yup,” I said, holding his gaze. “That’s why I’m convinced it was the cartel that hit us. I talked to Picnic right after it happened. He had no idea I was with her and no time to put together a story. He played tough, but the man was scared shitless for his kids—scared enough to give me safe passage to take her home. Her dumbass sister was still missing, by the way.”

“Interesting,” he said, betraying nothing. “I know when we started this, you thought keeping her around would work out for you … That was under very specific conditions. Apparently those conditions have changed—you’re obviously emotionally invested—and that’s not so convenient for my plans. How serious are you about this?”

“Pretty serious,” I admitted. “I’m not sure where we’re going, but I won’t give her up without a fight.”

Silence fell between us. I held his eyes steadily, refusing to soften what I’d just said or back down.

“I’ll need you to talk to the others,” he said finally. “Explain your relationship with her, including your plans and how they differ from the original arrangement. I won’t have this used against me. Of course, that kills any hope you have for leadership, at least for now.”

“I understand.”

Yeah, I understood. But it hurt.

“There’s some good that can come of this, though,” Burke said thoughtfully. “I’ll have you talk about Hayes’s reaction, explain why it reinforces the cartel theory. We’ve got hotheads pushing for retaliation against the Reapers. They don’t want to believe the cartel has the reach to pull off an attack like this.”

“So you think it was the cartel?”

“I’m certain of it,” he said, his voice grim. “I’ve met the Reapers’ president, Shade. He’s a good man. This isn’t his style. The others don’t want to accept that, though. They’d rather blame another MC than admit we’re really at war with the cartel.”

I nodded, because he was right. Fighting the Reapers was weirdly safe, almost comfortable in a strange way. We all knew the rules and what to expect from each other.

“Like I said, this pretty much kills any chance you have to go higher in the Jacks,” Burke continued. “So you’ll stay in Portland. At some point I’d like to see a true chapter started there, assuming we can get the Reapers to sign off on it. Deke’s still pretty pissed at us over his niece, and I’m sure the Toke situation didn’t help things. That happens, you’ll have another shot at leadership. Until then, I’ll still expect you to be available for delicate assignments. You’ll have to get a regular job, though. I’ll make sure you still get a bounty when it’s warranted, but the others won’t tolerate a man on payroll who’s sleeping with the enemy. And they’re still the enemy, at least in most minds. We clear?”

I thought about Em and nodded. She was worth the sacrifice—assuming things worked out. Shit … This was happening too fast. Something must have crossed my face, because Burke paused.

“How sure are you of this girl?” he asked.

I considered the question, reluctant to answer. Would’ve been nice to pin Em down, spend a little more time together first …

“Not as sure as I’d like,” I admitted finally. “I mean, we don’t have anything arranged formally, and her dad hates me. All her people do. But she stood up for me last night, so that’s something—even told her father we were together. That means I’ve got a shot, and God hates a coward.”

Burke snorted.

“You’re an idiot,” he said flatly. “Believe it or not, I can understand giving things up for a woman. I really can. But giving away everything for a girl you barely know? I’m saying this as someone who cares about you—you’re a fuckwit. You’re lucky I need you to convince the others the Reapers aren’t behind this attack. We don’t save this truce, the cartel’s already won.”

“Hope they listen,” I murmured.

“Won’t hurt that you’re throwing everything away to tell them,” Burke said offhandedly. “Of course, your judgment is obviously fucked, so it balances out.”

I shrugged.

“Can I ask a question?” I said. Burke was the closest thing I had to a father, but I was all too aware that I didn’t really know him at all.

“You can ask,” he said.

“If it wasn’t for what happened last night—if you didn’t need me to convince the club it wasn’t the Reapers—would you still let me have her?”

Burke laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in his voice.

“Romeo and Juliet died, son. Consider that all the answer you need.”

Chapter Fourteen

EM

Kit finally called at four in the morning.

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded, and for once there wasn’t a hint of playfulness or laughter in her voice. “I just saw my phone—there’s about a hundred messages here. I want to know what I’m getting into before I get hold of Dad. Do you think I should wait a couple hours to make the call, when he’s awake?”

“Definitely don’t wait until later,” I told her, keeping my voice low. The house was crawling with people, and I didn’t want to wake anyone up if I didn’t have to. We were all exhausted. “Someone tried to shoot Shade last night in Boise. Swinger is dead. Not only that, they shot up some of the clubhouses, including Portland. Everyone’s been scared you were kidnapped or murdered or something.”

“Oh my God. I’m calling Dad right now.”

She hung up on me, and I flopped back down on my bed, throwing an arm over my eyes. What a clusterfuck. Ten minutes later my phone rang again.

“You were with Hunter last night!?” Kit demanded, her voice incredulous. “Dad says he brought you home. What the hell is going on? It’s like the world turned upside down while I was getting laid.”

“Yeah, I was with Hunter.”

“You want to give me the details on that?”

“I’m not sure even I know the details. We had sex, but before we could talk about anything our phones blew up and everything fell apart. He took me home and then left. Hopefully I’ll hear from him today.”

“I hate to say this, but have you considered he might be playing you again?” she asked quietly. “I know I’m the one who dragged you over to his place last weekend … But I didn’t think there was any danger then. Now people are dying. This is bad shit, Em, and Dad says the Devil’s Jacks could be behind it. He wants us to come home.”

“Hunter’s not playing me,” I said firmly. “You didn’t see how he reacted last night—totally shocked. Someone tried to kill their president, too. He’s dead now, along with another Jack. They got hit worse than we did.”

“Sweet baby Jesus on a stick. That’s fucked up.”

Hard to argue.

“Where are you?” I asked. “I’m assuming Dad told you to come to Cookie’s place? I guess this is where we’re holing up for now. The Portland clubhouse had some water damage. Nobody got hurt, but one of the bullets burst a pipe, of all things. Weird.”

“Deke’s sending someone for me right now. Not sure whether I’ll make it back up to school tomorrow or not. Dad wants to arrange some kind of family emergency leave or something. Next week is Thanksgiving break, so that’ll give me a little breathing room. I was planning on driving over on the Wednesday before, but even if I head back to school, I’ll leave the minute classes end. I know it isn’t like me, but I want to be with Dad, Em. This is scary shit, and I don’t like the idea of him alone.”

I snorted.

“Dad is never alone.”

“You know what I mean,” she replied. “He’s always had you to keep an eye on him. I know he’s a big bad MC president, but we both know how lonely he gets. Why do you think he drags home all those losers to sleep with?”

“Because he’s horny,” I said, my tone flat. Sometimes the truth isn’t pretty. “I’m not going back. I just got away from him for the first time in years, and he’ll use this as an excuse to try and keep us there. You know he will.”

“You’re not a slave, you know. You can leave whenever you want.”

“Or I can just stay here. They weren’t shooting at women, and if it’s safe enough for Cookie, it’s safe enough for me. I’d rather stay in Portland and keep moving forward. I’m not going to take stupid risks, but I’m not getting locked away forever, either.”

“You’re letting hormones cloud your brain,” she said bluntly. “This is about Hunter. But he’s just a guy, Em, and there are millions more all over the country. A dick is a dick.”

“It isn’t just about Hunter, Kit. Okay, I’ll admit, maybe it’s a little about him. But I also fought hard to get out. I’m not like you—I’m not independent and strong … If I go home, I might just stay, and I don’t want that.”

“We’ll talk more when I get there,” Kit said, sighing. “I see them pulling up right now. I feel kind of bad for this guy I picked up. He was talking about making me breakfast, but I’m just gonna leave him a note. No point in waking him up.”

I snorted.

“You’re a slut.”

“Probably,” she replied with a hint of her old spirit. “But he’s shit in bed. It’s better this way. See you in a few.”

By nine that morning, the kitchen was warm and full of good smells. Cookie and I were making a king-sized batch of pancakes while Kit sliced fruit. Deke and the brothers had a council of war going in the living room, so we’d closed the sliders that separated the kitchen and dining room to give them privacy. Silvie sat at the table coloring and singing some weird, unending little song about pizza fairies.

I couldn’t seem to stop checking my phone. No word from Hunter. I wasn’t particularly surprised—I assumed he was in his own council of war right now. I just hoped he stayed safe.

“I think Kit is right,” Cookie was saying. “You should go home to Coeur d’Alene with her. If this thing with Hunter is real, it’ll still be real in a couple weeks, when we’ve had a chance to wrap our heads around what’s happening.”

“I’m not going home,” I said, my voice firm. “Moving out was hard. Really hard … I don’t want to slip back into old habits. I’m too comfortable in Coeur d’Alene and the club was smothering me. I’m happier here and I don’t think it would be any safer back home. In fact, I haven’t even decided if I’m going for Thanksgiving. Maybe I’ll have other plans.”

Cookie and Kit exchanged looks.

“You know I’m all about getting laid,” Kit started carefully. Cookie snapped her with a towel.

“Little ears.”

“Sorry. I think it’s great that you and Hunter made a connection,” Kit started again. “But you’re building castles in your head and that’s not too smart, sis.”

“I’m gonna live in a castle when I’m a grown-up,” Silvie declared.

“Good luck,” Cookie muttered. “I leave the shop closed another day and we won’t be able to afford a house.”

“Are things really that tight?” I asked, startled. She shook her head, frowning.

“No, but you get what I mean. I’m just frustrated because Deke seems to think he’s my boss. No thanks—I’m a sole proprietor.”

I snickered.

“Bikers are crazy,” Kit said, rolling her eyes. “All caveman and bullshit. You’ll never catch me with one of them, I promise you. Life is too short to let a man call the shots.”

“And yet you’re the one trying to convince me to go home to Coeur d’Alene. You do realize it’s infested with them, right?”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Cookie’s phone rang and we all froze. What now? Cookie grabbed it.

“It’s Maggs,” she told us, her face nervous as she answered. “Hey, hon … What’s up?”

She listened for a minute, her eyes growing wide. Then she screamed and started jumping up and down. Seconds later the kitchen door burst open and Deke ran through, gun in hand. Cookie burst into tears, a huge smile transforming her face.

“Bolt’s coming home!” she yelled “He got parole. It’s a fucking miracle. They’re actually letting him come home!”

Kit and I burst out screaming and hugging each other. Deke collapsed back against the door frame, and for the first time in my life I saw him smile.

“About time we got some good news,” he said. “Fuck. Didn’t see that coming. Idaho never paroles ’em if they won’t confess to the charges.”

“Let me talk to Maggs,” I demanded, reaching for the phone. Cookie laughed and handed it over. “Maggs! I can’t believe it! When did you find out?”

“He called Friday afternoon but made me sit on it,” she said. “It killed me not to tell you ladies, but I got the go-ahead this morning. I guess he had some business he wanted tied up before word got out? I dunno. The parole hearing was two weeks ago, but you don’t get a decision right away … We didn’t think it would happen. He won’t admit he did anything wrong, and you know how that goes. They aren’t supposed to consider anything but his behavior inside, but the parole board does whatever the hell they want.”

“How?” I asked, stunned. “How did he pull it off?”

“I don’t know,” she said, obviously crying. “I just don’t know. I don’t care. All I know is he’ll be coming home. Finally. I have to go. I have phone calls to make, and so much to do. We’ll have a big party for him, of course. You’ll come back for it, won’t you?”

“Of course,” I said. “Oh my God, of course I will!”

Then Kit was demanding the phone. I saw Cookie hugging Deke out of the corner of my eye as more brothers crowded into the kitchen.

Thank God.

We needed this. We needed it in a big way.

Later that night, Hunter finally got in touch. I hadn’t realized how nervous I was until his text popped up. Kit’s words had been eating at me, making me doubt him.

HUNTER: How are you doing? Can’t call, no privacy

ME: Good. Still at home. Kit got in touch early this morning. She’s fine. Dad wants me back in CDA, of course. Kit is trying to get leave from school

HUNTER: You planning to go?

ME: Do I have a good reason to stay? We decided to stay away from each other but then last night happened … I don’t know what’s going on between us.

I waited for his response, holding my breath. We hadn’t discussed the future or anything between us. It’d never been a secret that he wanted to have sex with me, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that meant anything serious.

I had hope, though. Before everything fell to shit and he’d kidnapped me, we’d talked every day. We shared jokes and laughed and I’d felt like I could tell him anything. So we hadn’t spent much time together in person, but that didn’t mean we hadn’t spent time together … That had to count for something, right?

Hunter still hadn’t answered. Shit. Had I pissed off everyone I knew over a one-night stand? For one horrible minute I thought I might throw up.

The phone buzzed again.

HUNTER: Sorry. Lot of shit all around me. I hope to hell you have a reason to stay in Portland … I just told my whole club about you, that I plan to make you my old lady. Skid can go fuck himself, along with his bullshit reasons for us to stay apart. Hoping I didn’t do it for nothing?

I sighed, feeling the tension drain out of me. Okay, I hadn’t imagined whatever it was between us. Then what he’d said hit me—he’d told his club he wanted me for his old lady.

Holy hell … that was practically a proposal!

ME: You almost gave me a heart attack. For a minute I thought maybe that was just a one night stand. Old lady? That’s a big step … but I like the sound of it …

HUNTER: Def not a one night stand. We need some time together, time to talk. This is insane.

ME: No shit … Ha. My old man. wow

HUNTER: Damn straight. Where did you think this was going? No offense, Em, but us being together is way too dangerous and crazy to risk for just sex. Fuck that. I want to do this right. Are you with me?

I took a minute, wondering if I’d lost my mind. Probably. Definitely. I didn’t care.

ME: I’m with you. My dad might kill you

HUNTER: He can try. We’ll figure it out.

ME: You sure your club is good with this? It seems so unreal

HUNTER: They’re not thrilled but they’ll get over it. FYI—I won’t be home for a couple days. I need to go now, but I’ll try to call when I can. Don’t freak out if you don’t hear from me tho. Fucked up shit all the time right now

ME: Don’t worry about me. You stay safe.

HUNTER: You too. A lots up in the air, but I’m with you Em. Don’t doubt that, okay? No matter what happens or what you hear … Promise?

ME: I promise. xoxo

I set down the phone, feeling a little giddy. Hunter’s old lady. Wow. I knew my friends Marie and Sophie had struggled with the term, not quite understanding how important it was. But I’d grown up in the MC—I knew exactly what Hunter was asking me. Calling me his old lady meant more than offering me a ring, it meant he’d taken responsibility for me and all my actions to his own club.

The daughter of a Reapers MC president, despite the fact that his brothers and my father had been enemies since before I was born.

Hunter had handed me his life.

Literally.

Monday afternoon Cookie and I sat at the kitchen table playing rummy. Hunter hadn’t been in touch again and I’d gotten over my initial giddy excitement. Now I was just bored.

“I’m tired of coloring,” Silvie declared. “I wanna go to the park.”

“Me, too,” Cookie murmured. “But we need to stay inside today, baby. Why don’t you go to your room and pick out a book? I’ll come back and read it to you in a little bit. I want to talk to Em for a minute.”

“Okay.”

Silvie hopped down and ran out of the room. Cookie leaned toward me across the table.

“I’m losing my mind,” she confessed in a low voice.

“At least the shop is open again,” I replied, trying to sound cheerful. It wasn’t a particularly successful attempt. I was losing my mind, too.

“For now,” she muttered. “But they can’t handle taking stock or ordering, even if the counter’s covered. I’m thinking about telling Deke to leave. They may have water damage at the clubhouse, but that’s their problem, not mine. I think it’s time for this operation to move out.”

I opened my eyes wide.

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” Cookie said, glancing toward the living room. “I’m a prisoner in my own home. You know what makes it worse, though? This isn’t my fi ght. I’m not even part of the club anymore. Bagger is dead and I’ve been on my own for nearly a year. Deke has no fucking right to show up here and treat me like club property. I may have been Bagger’s property, but that’s over. Not like he’s coming back.”

“I don’t know what to say … I didn’t know you felt that way about the club.”

She sighed, and shook her head, tossing her cards down.

“I don’t,” she said, running a hand through her curls. “Or maybe I do. I don’t know. I’m just tired of being stuck in my house when I have a business that needs running. I’m not getting laid and I’m not getting any younger. You know, it’s only been eleven months since Bagger died, but he was deployed for ten months before that. I’ve been alone forever, Em. Or at least it feels that way … I’m tired of being a good old lady, staying strong in memory of a man who cared more about his fucking war than his family.”

I stared at her, eyes wide. I had no idea what to say. None. I heard a throat clearing and looked up to fi nd Deke standing in the doorway.

“Um, hi, Deke?” I asked.

“Fuck it,” Cookie said, turning her head to glare at him. She stood and walked out, pushing past the big biker without another word.

Awkward.

Deke walked slowly to the table, then leaned across it on his hands, his face about a foot from mine.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked, his voice like ice. God, did he have any settings that weren’t scary?

“I have no idea,” I whispered, eyes wide. “Seriously. We were just sitting here playing cards and she started talking. I’ve never heard her say anything like that before. I had no idea …”

My voice trailed off. Deke nodded, then sat down across from me. He folded his arms across his chest and studied me like a bug. I hoped very sincerely I wouldn’t pee my pants, because that’s how terrifying he was. No joke.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay?”

“Your dad wants you home,” he said. “You should’ve gone with Kit yesterday.”

“I’m not going home. Coeur d’Alene isn’t a good place for me anymore.”

“Listen up, little girl,” Deke told me, his voice cold and matter of fact. “Hunter is using you. I know you don’t like that idea. It probably hurts your feelings or some such shit. But these are the facts. This club—your club—is under attack. We don’t know for sure that the Jacks are behind it, but we do know one thing—when they needed a weak link last time, they went after you. You already fell for Hunter’s shit once. He’s a proven liar who’s not afraid to use a woman to get what he wants. Don’t you think it’s a pretty big coincidence that he just happened to be with you the night everything went down? The Jacks could be trying to pit us against the cartel for their own reasons. For all you know, he’s using you to convince us they’re victims, too. Take us off guard for another sneak attack.”

“What about their president?” I demanded. “Two men are dead, Deke.”

“So they say,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. “But all the cops are saying is that two men were shot. We know their club is tearing apart at the seams. Their VP—Burke—has stepped up, but there’s no guarantee he can hold them together. At least that’s how I read it. For all we know, the Jacks took them out for their own reasons. Power struggle.”

I shook my head.

“You didn’t see his face,” I said. “It was real, Deke. He had no idea.”

“Says the girl who talked to a Devil’s Jack online for almost three months without a fuckin’ clue she was being set up. Use your brain, Em. Don’t make a fool of yourself again. Just go home and forget you ever met him.”

I stood carefully, blinking back tears, and walked out of the kitchen with as much dignity as I could manage. I agreed with Cookie—Deke needed to go away.

I didn’t like him one little bit.

TUESDAY

ME: I’m sick of being stuck in this house. They won’t let us do anything. Not even Kit is this trapped in Coeur d’Alene!!!

HUNTER: They didn’t shoot up the clubhouse in CDA and it’s farther north. Not the same thing. But I hear you—I’ll be back to town tomorrow. See you then?

ME: Definitely

HUNTER: Think I can call tonight. I never have any privacy, but I fucking miss you. Want to hear your voice. Keep thinking of that sexy mouth of yours and what it will look like wrapped around my dick.

ME: Um …

HUNTER: Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you first, babe … And after. I can’t wait to strip off all your clothes and get you naked in my bed. Might not let you out for a month.

ME: Well, when you put it like that … Ok :)

My phone rang at ten p.m. I’d almost given up on him calling, so when he did, I was so excited I nearly fell off my bed.

“Hey,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. “How are you?”

“Exhausted,” he said. “I’ve been down to California and back a couple times now. I hate to admit it, but I think it might be time to park the bike and break out the cage. I hate winter in Oregon.”

I laughed.

“It’s not even winter yet, and at least it’s warmer here than Coeur d’Alene,” I said. “They had the first snow last night, according to Kit. She wants to know if I’m coming home for Thanksgiving.”

“What did you say?”

“I haven’t made any plans yet,” I said carefully. There were so many things we hadn’t had time to talk about. It wasn’t like either of us had our own place. Did he want to spend the holiday together? I kept looking back over our texts to make sure I hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing. “Figured I’d see how things play out. I can’t wait to be with you again.”

“The feeling is mutual, trust me,” he muttered. “Christ, I’ve been thinking about talking to you all day, and now that I’ve finally got some privacy to do it, I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Sorry, babe.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Why don’t I talk and you can listen?”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” I said hesitantly. “About what I plan to do to you when we finally get together again. I want it to be special, so I decided to do a little research.”

“Oh really?” he asked, and while he still sounded tired, I caught a hint of something else, too. “You do this ‘research’ on another guy?”

I burst out laughing.

“Yeah, because there are so many available men in this house. Reapers don’t count, especially annoying ones. No, I decided to download a book, get some ideas.”

“Sounds interesting,” he murmured. “What kind of ideas?”

“Well, you know I don’t have tons of experience,” I said. “So I figured if I wanted to do this right—sex, I mean—it might be a good idea to read a manual. I bought the Guide to Getting It On. Interesting stuff. For exam-ple, did you know that most men are far more sensitive on the top half of their penises than the bottom half?”

“I haven’t researched the wider population, but I’m not surprised,” he said, sounding amused.

“Well, that’s why it’s so important that when I do finally get you alone, I make sure I spend a lot of time exploring the head first. I think it’s the … hmm, let me check my notes. The frenulum? You know, the little—”

He started laughing.

“Babe, two things. Don’t use the word ‘little’ when you talk about my dick, okay? And two, don’t use the word ‘frenulum.’ Ever. Not that any-thing said in that voice of yours isn’t sexy, but it’s sort of blocking the visual I’m trying to paint in my head.”

I frowned. Last time we’d had phone sex he took the lead. This was harder than I’d thought.

My phone rang at ten p.m. I’d almost given up on him calling, so when he did, I was so excited I nearly fell off my bed.

“Hey,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. “How are you?”

“Exhausted,” he said. “I’ve been down to California and back a couple times now. I hate to admit it, but I think it might be time to park the bike and break out the cage. I hate winter in Oregon.”

I laughed.

“It’s not even winter yet, and at least it’s warmer here than Coeur d’Alene,” I said. “They had the first snow last night, according to Kit. She wants to know if I’m coming home for Thanksgiving.”

“What did you say?”

“I haven’t made any plans yet,” I said carefully. There were so many things we hadn’t had time to talk about. It wasn’t like either of us had our own place. Did he want to spend the holiday together? I kept looking back over our texts to make sure I hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing. “Figured I’d see how things play out. I can’t wait to be with you again.”

“The feeling is mutual, trust me,” he muttered. “Christ, I’ve been thinking about talking to you all day, and now that I’ve finally got some privacy to do it, I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Sorry, babe.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Why don’t I talk and you can listen?”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” I said hesitantly. “About what I plan to do to you when we finally get together again. I want it to be special, so I decided to do a little research.”

“Oh really?” he asked, and while he still sounded tired, I caught a hint of something else, too. “You do this ‘research’ on another guy?”

I burst out laughing.

“Yeah, because there are so many available men in this house. Reapers don’t count, especially annoying ones. No, I decided to download a book, get some ideas.”

“Sounds interesting,” he murmured. “What kind of ideas?”

“Well, you know I don’t have tons of experience,” I said. “So I figured if I wanted to do this right—sex, I mean—it might be a good idea to read a manual. I bought the Guide to Getting It On. Interesting stuff. For example, did you know that most men are far more sensitive on the top half of their penises than the bottom half?”

“I haven’t researched the wider population, but I’m not surprised,” he said, sounding amused.

“Well, that’s why it’s so important that when I do finally get you alone, I make sure I spend a lot of time exploring the head first. I think it’s the … hmm, let me check my notes. The frenulum? You know, the little—”

He started laughing.

“Babe, two things. Don’t use the word ‘little’ when you talk about my dick, okay? And two, don’t use the word ‘frenulum.’ Ever. Not that anything said in that voice of yours isn’t sexy, but it’s sort of blocking the visual I’m trying to paint in my head.”

I frowned. Last time we’d had phone sex he took the lead. This was harder than I’d thought.

“Okay, well, it says I should take my time and explore that little notch on the bottom side. For example, I thought I might start by running my tongue all the way around, make sure I have a feel for the layout before doing anything else.”

“That’ll work,” he said, his voice lowering.

“I have a theory,” I said. “According to my book, some men prefer it when a woman sort of points her tongue and just uses the tip. Others like it when you really spread the tongue out, and rub the cock’s underside as you pull the head into your mouth.”

He cleared his throat roughly.

“Yeah, that’d be okay.”

I thought I heard the sound of his pants unzipping. I hoped to hell I was right, because otherwise I might feel sheepish about the way my hand was sliding down into my sleep shorts.

“So here’s my theory,” I continued. “The book says the best way to find out is to just ask, and I can appreciate the efficiency in that. But I also think it would be really fun to experiment and decide for myself. You know, like a randomized series of tests so I can gather lots of data?”

“You’re going to kill me,” he grunted. “Less data, babe. More licking.”

“Just a sec. I’m gonna grab my vibrator before I keep going.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s the general idea.”

I rolled over and dug out my trusty magic bullet, turning it on low. Not too much … not at first.

“So I’m a little worried about how big you are,” I said. “The book tells me I might want to consider licking you all over, until you’re good and wet. Then I’ll wrap my hand around the bottom so you can’t accidentally go too deep. Think that might work?”

“Can’t hurt to give it a shot,” he muttered. “Fuck. I love your voice, babe. You using that vibrator yet?”

“Uh-huh …” I whispered. “I’m just laying it against my clit right now, letting it sort of warm me up. I’m imagining what it’ll feel like the first time I taste you. I’m a little nervous, so before I take you in my mouth, I’m going to explore that little slit at the top, okay? You know, try out some of your precome? I figure a little taste is just what I need to get a sense of how it’ll be. Not sure if I want to swallow or not.”

“Babe, I don’t give a shit if you swallow,” he said, his voice strained. “Just don’t stop talking.”

I laughed, feeling powerful.

“I think I’ll turn up my vibrator a little now. I’m rubbing it up and down, first on my clit and then along my labia. I feel really empty, though. I wish you were here, Hunter. I’ll never forget how it felt when you first pushed into me. It hurt a little, but it was great, too. You know I’m still a little sore?”

“I’ve never felt anything as good as your cunt around my dick, and that is the fuckin’ truth.”

“The good news is you’ll feel it again soon. In fact, I wish you were feeling it right now.”

“Why don’t you slide a finger inside, check and see how things are going?” he asked. I propped the phone on my pillow next to my ear and then reached down to follow his instructions.

“Well, for one thing, I’m pretty wet already,” I murmured, closing my eyes. “I guess the thought of sucking you off turns me on. Does that make me a slut?”

“Only in the nicest possible sense of the word. Can you hear me jacking off? Because I swear, I’m pumping so hard it sounds like a freight train in here.”

Oh shit. That went straight to my center. I stuck another finger in, reaching for my G-spot. As usual, I couldn’t quite get there.

Fortunately, my vibrator was available to compensate.

“I feel tingles and pressure running all down my body,” I said. “I’m not there yet, but I will be there soon. I want your weight on top of me—”

I gasped, because the vibrator found a particularly sensitive spot. I felt my muscles tighten and my hips jerked.

“I’m getting close, Hunter.”

“Liam,” he muttered. “Call me Liam. Fuck, I want to be inside you. Shit. Oh, fuck …”

“Liam,” I gasped as my back arched. “Holy shit. I can’t wait to do this in person.”

He groaned in my ear, the sound harsh and tight.

“I’m coming,” he said. “Fuck. Fuck.”

He grunted into the phone. I imagined his hand on his cock, the sight of his come squirting out. I started pumping my fingers in and out harder, pretending they were his. My clit tightened, every muscle clenched, and then my hips lifted off the bed as I exploded.

“Ahhh …” I lay still, panting into the phone.

It took a couple minutes to recover.

“You’re pretty good at phone sex,” he said after a while, his voice low and growly.

“Thanks,” I whispered. “I miss you.”

“Miss you, too. I’m sorry, babe, but I’m really fuckin’ tired, and blowing my wad just now didn’t help.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll still be in Portland when you get back. Promise.”

WEDNESDAY MORNING

HUNTER: I feel like shit telling you this, but I’m down in Cali again. Thought I’d make it today but had some business come up

ME: Its okay. I understand :(

That evening I watched nervously as Cookie slammed dishes around the kitchen. I wanted to offer to help, but I was a little scared of her. She’d been muttering about men, control, and how much she needed to get back to work.

I understood her frustration.

So far as I could tell, there was a whole lot of nothing going on. Deke wouldn’t tell us anything, but Kit had been listening at doors back home. According to her, the Reapers were divided over who to blame for the shootings. Quite a few thought it was the cartel down south, but they couldn’t rule out the Jacks, either.

So far they hadn’t found any real evidence to prove who was behind the attacks. Until they could, a lot of questions would remain unanswered, and the Jacks would be suspect. Had Hunter’s club broken the truce? Should we start hitting back?

Nobody knew.

In the meantime, Deke wouldn’t let Cookie go to her shop. He wouldn’t let me go to work, either, which wasn’t such a big deal because I’d just been picking up shifts as needed. But she could tell things were falling apart without her, and Deke didn’t even seem to care.

On the bright side, the guys were back in their clubhouse, which meant the house wasn’t full of bikers anymore. The water damage still needed to be fixed, but apparently it was workable. That was a big relief. Cookie didn’t want her house to be a target, and even Deke had to acknowledge she had a point.

He still left guards with us, though, and he’d spent almost every night at her place. Silvie had moved into Cookie’s room, so at least he had a bed. Of course, that bed was pink and covered with stuffed kittens.

Apparently, Deke was above worrying about such things.

Around six, the front door opened and Deke walked in … home from work just like a 1950s sitcom, only with guns and cartels and lives at stake. Cookie came out of the kitchen, a determined look on her face and a plastic bag in her hand.

“Deke, we need to talk,” she said, her tone ominous, thrusting the bag at me. “Em, would you keep an eye on Silvie? I have a Lunchable in here, and some fruit in case she’s hungry. Not sure how long it’ll take.”

I nodded quickly.

“Out here or back in her room?” I asked, wondering what was the safest distance. I had a bad feeling about this …

“Room might be best,” Cookie said. Deke glanced over at the prospect he’d left with us that morning, who was watching uncomfortably.

“You can head out,” he said, jerking his chin toward the door. “I’ve got it from here.”

The prospect and I met eyes, and I’m pretty sure we were thinking the same thing. World War III was about to break out in that kitchen. I wished I could leave with him. Instead I grabbed Silvie and took her to my room.

Outside the house, I heard the prospect driving away. Coward.

“I’m hungry,” Silvie declared. “Mom lets me eat the treat first.”

Yeah, right.

“Start with the meat and crackers,” I told her, peeling off the plastic and handing her the food. Then I wondered why I bothered—the chocolate was probably healthier than the waxy, fake cheese in the little carton. I dug a granola bar out of my purse for myself, wishing I’d thought to grab a Diet Coke or something.

During the next hour, I read Silvie four books before starting a movie for her on my laptop. Then I crept out into the living room to scope out the situation.

I heard yelling in the kitchen, and then I heard something hit the wall and shatter.

I crept back into the bedroom.

Around eight Cookie knocked on the door.

“Sorry about that,” she murmured. Her hair was all messed up and her cheeks were flushed.

“Deke still here?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head.

“Nope,” she said. “He called someone else to come over. I think he’s got some stuff to sort out …”

“Everything okay?” I asked hesitantly.

She shrugged.

“Not sure,” she admitted. “But he’s gone for the night. I guess we’ll see what happens tomorrow. I’m planning on going to work. If he’s smart, he won’t try to stop me.”

Chapter Fifteen

My phone rang at eleven that night.

“Yeah?” I asked, not quite asleep but not entirely awake, either.

“I just got back to town,” Hunter said. “I know it’s last minute, but can I come and pick you up?”

“Of course!” I said, a wave of excitement perking me up. “When?”

“I’m just down the street.”

“Um, I need to grab some stuff,” I said, glancing around frantically. “Give me fifteen minutes? Or at least ten?”

“Ten,” he replied, his voice low and sexy. “Fuck, I can’t wait to get my hands on you, babe. The shit I’m gonna do to your body … Don’t forget to grab that dirty book of yours. You don’t need clothes, but the book sounds like my kind of reading.”

I giggled, feeling all silly and happy.

“See you soon, babe,” I said, hanging up the phone. I started grabbing things quickly and throwing them into my backpack. Then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and nearly screamed. My hair was all lank and flattened, I’d already washed off my makeup, and even my teeth felt grimy.

Like something out of a horror movie.

I darted across the hallway to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, then sprayed some dry shampoo into my hair and slapped on some lip gloss. Full makeup wasn’t really an option at this point, but it was better than nothing. I dashed off a quick note for Cookie and crept quietly out of my room to the kitchen, where I propped it up on the table. I figured I’d email her, too, that should cover things well enough. Then I walked out into the living room to find one of the prospects, Gordie, on the couch watching TV.

Pisser. I’d been hoping he’d be asleep.

“What’s up?” he asked, taking in my backpack and shoes.

“I’m going out,” I told him brightly. Nothing to see here. “Don’t worry about it.”

He stood up immediately, fully alert.

“I have orders to keep all of you safe in the house.”

“You don’t get to make that decision,” I told him, sounding far more confident than I felt. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m not a prisoner.”

“I’m calling Deke.”

“Fine, call him,” I said, moving toward the door. Unfortunately, he was bigger than me and he blocked it. “Are we really going to do this? Like, are you actually planning to hold me prisoner in this living room?”

“If I have to,” he told me, his voice grim. “Deke can decide.”

Double pisser.

I whipped out my phone and called Hunter.

“I have a situation,” I told him. “They aren’t gonna let me leave. Maybe we should just do this tomorrow …”

Hunter growled through the phone.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he said,

“Wait! What do you mean?”

“I’m coming to get you. How many guys are in the house?”

“Just one,” I said frantically. “But seriously, this could get ugly. Why don’t I—”

There was a pounding on the door.

I locked eyes with Gordie.

“That’s Hunter, and I don’t think he’s going away,” I told him quietly. “Is this really worth a fight? Just let me head out, okay? You don’t have a right to keep me away from him.”

“Not my call to make,” he said, shaking his head. “Deke’s on his way. You sit tight and he’ll decide how to handle this.”

Hunter pounded the door again. Shit. I texted him.

ME: Deke is coming so I think you should just go home. We don’t want a fight over this. Not now, when everyone is so touchy

HUNTER: No fucking way. You’re my old lady and you’re coming home with me. They have a problem with it, I’ll call in my brothers to help me

I froze. That didn’t sound good. Not at all.

ME: What about the truce? Wasn’t that our first priority?

HUNTER: I’ve already claimed you in front of my club, you’re my property now. If the Reapers won’t let my old lady come with me, that’s an act of war

I read the words and felt sick. Had he lost his mind? Yes, I decided. He had. Apparently he was so tired and worn out he’d forgotten what really mattered here.

Keeping the peace for all our sakes.

ME: It’s just one night babe. We’ll get it sorted out tomorrow. You have too much to lose here

HUNTER: No fucking way. I back down now it shows weakness. I’m not the one being unreasonable here Em. I just want to pick up my girl friend

More pounding on the door. Gordie looked nervous, but he stood his ground, blocking me.

“Open up!” Hunter shouted outside.

ME: Is this really about us, or about you making some kind of point with Deke?

HUNTER: It started out about us. But him saying I can’t see my woman? Thats a problem. Deke is pulling up now. We’ll figure it out

Sure enough, I heard a truck engine. Cookie wandered out into the living room wearing a man’s bathrobe, rubbing her eyes.

“What’s going on?” she asked, sleepily. “I have to be up at four. This better be important.”

“I think we’re having a contest to see who has the biggest dick,” I muttered, frustrated. “Hunter came to pick me up, but Gordie won’t let me out and now Deke’s here. I’m just waiting for them to start whipping out their rulers.”

“Ridiculous,” Cookie said. “Come with me.”

I raised a brow.

“Kind of in the middle of something,” I muttered. I heard Deke’s voice out front, yelling at Hunter. Shit. If we didn’t shut this down, someone was going to get seriously hurt.

“Come. With. Me.” Cookie said, her voice harsher than I’d ever heard it. Damn. She looked almost scarier than Deke.

“Okay,” I said, eyes darting toward Gordie. I followed her back to her bedroom, where Silvie lay sound asleep with her favorite stuffed animal tucked in next to her. Cookie made a “ta-dah!” kind of gesture, showing me the French doors next to her bed.

“You can go out there and sneak around the front,” she said. “Just bypass them entirely.”

I gaped at her and she shrugged.

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because hormones impair thinking,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Go on. Get outside before they start shooting or something.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because I’m sick of this shit,” she said, her voice blunt. “The Reapers don’t own either of us. Deke has no right to keep you here and neither does your dad. Make your own decisions, Em. I miss Bagger every day of my life and I wish I’d spent more time with him. We just never know when it’s all going to end, and life is too short to sit around waiting for a man. I still think it’s a mistake to hook up with Hunter, but it’s your mistake to make.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, giving her a quick hug. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Good,” she said. Then an evil smile crossed her face. “I know it’s wrong of me, but I’m really looking forward to Deke losing for once. About time someone stands up to him.”

I stifled a giggle as she turned off the alarm and opened the door. Then I ran quickly across the wet grass, feeling the cold seep into my pink Chucks. I crept carefully around the house to find Hunter and Deke in a standoff on the sidewalk.

Gordie watched from the porch, mesmerized.

“You can leave on your own or we’ll make you, but you aren’t taking Em with you,” Deke was saying. “Not gonna happen.”

Hunter bristled.

“She’s my old lady now. She belongs with me.”

God, it would be so much faster if they just did a side-by-side penis comparison. I ran my eyes over Hunter, torn between wanting to lick his entire body and punch him in the face. Instead of doing either, I walked quietly to my car. I needed to time things perfectly. I took a deep breath and counted to three before opening the door, hopping into my seat, and sliding the key into the ignition, all in one smooth move. The car started right up (thank God!) and I slammed it into reverse, backing out into the street with a jolt.

Both men turned to stare at me, the surprise on their faces priceless.

I rolled down my window, foot poised on the accelerator.

“I’m leaving,” I yelled at them. “Hunter, call me if you’d rather sleep with me than fight with Deke.”

With that, I slammed my foot down and took off into the night.

Damn, that felt good.

“I’ll strangle you if you ever pull something like that again,” Hunter said, pacing back and forth across the hotel room we’d gotten. Under the circumstances, neutral ground seemed like a good idea.

Someone was grumpy.

“You could’ve gotten shot. I could’ve shot you. What were you thinking, sneaking around outside a house under guard?”

I leaned against the bathroom door frame, my arms crossed, and sighed heavily. This reunion had been nowhere near as fun as I’d pictured it. Sweet baby Jesus, but the man could pout.

“Maybe if everyone wasn’t so trigger happy, this wouldn’t be such an issue,” I said, my voice tart. “Don’t give me this shit, Hunter. You caused a big scene because you weren’t willing to wait a few hours to get things sorted out. Someone could’ve gotten hurt. Silvie could’ve gotten hurt. Don’t we have enough to worry about from the cartel? I thought you wanted peace?”

He stopped pacing to snarl at me.

“Goddamn, Em—whose side are you on? I’ve been going hard for four fucking days. I drove for six hours to get here and claim my woman, and I wasn’t going to let some pissant Reaper prospect keep her from me. You’re mine now. I don’t fucking share.”

I took a deep breath, poised to rip him a new asshole. Then it struck me—something was really wrong here. Hunter was usually so cool, always calculating. This was nothing like him, something else was going on here.

“You’re overreacting,” I said slowly and deliberately. “I hear what you’re saying, but it’s not making sense. This isn’t like you. What happened?”

His face twisted, and he turned away from me, running a hand through his hair.

“Bad shit, Em,” he said finally. “I saw some bad shit today. Did some bad shit. I just needed to be near you, around someone clean and whole. He wouldn’t let me have you.”

Well, fuck. Now he looked all broken, and seeing this big, strong man so close to the edge made my insides twist. I still wanted to kick him, but I wanted to make him feel better even more. Hunter turned away, so I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him back into me. My cheek rubbed against the red devil on the back of his cut, reminding me that I’d left my club behind for this man.

“You have me,” I said into his back, letting go of my anger. I started running my hands up and down his stomach. I loved the feel of his hard muscles, but this was about more than sensation. He needed to realize how much I wanted him, how special he was to me. I tugged his shirt slowly out of his pants, trailing my fingers along his bare skin. Those amazing muscles of his tightened and he groaned.

“You don’t have to tell me about it,” I whispered, knowing he couldn’t. “Just relax, okay? Let’s just finish fighting tomorrow.”

“Do we really have to fight?” he asked, sounding exhausted. “God, Em. You have no idea. No fucking idea at all …”

Shit. What the hell had happened?

I slid my hands lower and caught his fly, pulling apart the button and sliding down the zipper. His cock was still soft, something I’d never felt from him before, but instead of being disappointed I was curious.

I wanted to explore. Seeing as he clearly had something he needed to forget, now was the perfect time to satisfy my curiosity and distract him in the process. I rubbed his length gently through the soft fabric of his boxer briefs with one hand, using the other to lower his pants. He sighed, and I felt him stir to life. I continued my exploration, finding the head as it slowly hardened, running my fingers around the ridge ringing it.

“That’s really good, babe.”

“Then I must be doing it right,” I murmured, wishing I were tall enough to kiss the back of his neck. “Let me make you feel good again, Liam. I want you to feel clean.”

He reached down and caught my hand in his, pulling it away long enough to shove down his briefs. Then he was putting my hand around his cock again, wrapping the fingers around his erection and using me to squeeze himself tighter than I would’ve dared on my own.

I moved my hand up and down, his length growing harder with every stroke. Then I slid my other hand up and under his shirt, savoring the ridges of his abdominals once more before finding his chest. His nipple.

I pinched it and Hunter inhaled sharply.

“Good?” I asked, the question a whisper.

“Very,” he said. “Very fucking good.”

“Just relax and enjoy. Let me help you.”

He sighed heavily. Something had obviously gone terribly wrong, something I might never know the details of. But whatever it was, when he needed peace, he’d come to me.

I liked that idea very much.

Hunter’s cock was fully erect now. I kept playing with his nipple, working his cock slow and fast alternately, exploring what seemed to give him the most pleasure.

After a few minutes he gasped, his hand catching mine again, jerking it up and down. Now it seemed almost as if he was using my touch to punish himself. I couldn’t imagine something so rough could be anything but painful, but the groans coming from his mouth weren’t unhappy.

“Christ,” he muttered, reaching around with his free arm to grab me, pulling me hard into his body. The embroidery of his patches rubbed against my cheek. Would I ever have sex with him fully naked?

Not at this rate.

His hips started pulsing forward involuntarily, and his hand around my back tightened. My arm was growing tired but I didn’t care. I didn’t really care about anything—all I wanted was to bring him some kind of relief.

Well, that’s a lie.

I very much wanted his dick in my body, but this was clearly working for him. He needed my touch more than I needed his, at least for the moment. Hunter gave a long, low groan and then I felt it hit. He came in a series of pulses that seemed to run along the bottom of his cock. I slowed my hand, thinking I should stop, but he grasped me and kept moving.

All righty then.

I kept stroking him for another minute as his body shuddered and then relaxed against mine. Finally his hand dropped away and I let him go, wrapping both arms around his waist.

“You know, I’d planned for something a little more mutual,” he said slowly. “Sorry. Just a shit night. I’ll get you off—”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” I said, still hugging him. “You’re tired and I want you to rest. You’ll need your strength for later, I think. Right?”

He gave a little laugh, turning around to face me, raising a hand to catch my hair in that way he seemed to like so much. His lips took mine, slow and sweet. Then he pulled away, rubbing his nose gently against mine.

“I hate to say it, but I’m about a minute away from passing out, babe. Can we go to sleep? I need you all soft and sweet and wrapped around me.”

“Sure,” I murmured. I pulled away, then considered the mess we’d just made. “Um …”

“I’ll clean it up,” he said quickly. “Just get ready for bed. I want to hold you—remember that night out behind the bunkhouse at your dad’s place? Aside from the part where you nearly killed me, that was one of the best nights of my life.”

“You also held me the night you kidnapped me,” I said, my voice dry. He shrugged.

“That was pretty good, too,” he admitted. “At least for me. But I figured you might have a different perspective …”

“You’ll make it up to me,” I told him, and I had no doubt of it. But not tonight.

My beautiful man needed rest, and he’d damned well get it.

HUNTER

I woke up to an empty bed.

Em had been so cute last night … First she jerked me off like a pro, and then she’d come to bed wearing one of my T-shirts, which I’d confiscated. Guess she didn’t have time to find any of those pretty presents I’d “given” her. Not that it mattered—I didn’t want anything between her skin and mine anyway. I slept surrounded by her warmth and smell and her hair all over my face, which should’ve been annoying but in reality kicked ass.

Her face wasn’t waiting for me when I closed my eyes, though. Nope, I saw the faces of my brothers right before I’d shot them. One of them had cried, begging for his life. The other sneered and flipped me off.

Two of our own, selling us out to the cartel.

It wasn’t the first time I’d killed for the club—but I’d never had to put down a brother like a dog before. I’d known there was dissension in the ranks and fully realized that there were men who’d do anything to keep us from making peace with the Reapers. I even understood their perspective, to a degree. We’d been in a cold war with the other club for close to twenty years. That made for a lot of bad blood.

But they’d gone beyond betrayal—this was treason.

Good men died because of what they’d done.

On the long drive up from Redding, I focused on Em. How much I wanted to hold her and smell her and absolutely not think of anything but her gorgeous body and the flash of her ice-blue eyes.

Then Deke and his pet prospect got in the way and I’d lost it.

Fuck.

I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. I hated to admit it, but Em had been right. What the hell was I thinking, risking the peace for one night? With any luck we’d have years together, something that definitely wouldn’t be happening if I started a new war with her dad’s club.

So fucking stupid … but at least one of us had kept her shit together. A reluctant smile crossed my face, because Em had saved my ass yet again. I heard the shower running in the bathroom, and I realized she must be in there, all slippery and wet. Ten seconds later I was on my feet, sliding back the curtain and stepping in behind her.

“Hey, baby,” I whispered in her ear. “I forgot to give you something last night.”

She gave a sexy little squeak as I slid my hands around her body, grasping her breast and reaching for her clit at the same time. Then she leaned into me and for the first time I got to explore her body without rushing.

Beautiful.

Of course, I knew every curve she had. I’d studied her pictures a thousand times, memorizing every inch of her skin and fantasizing about what I’d do to her, given the chance. The reality was better than my dreams. Way better. She was soft, but I felt the strong muscles underneath her curves. I knew she’d have endurance, and despite what she’d said to me that night in Coeur d’Alene, she’d already proven herself one hell of an old lady.

She said she didn’t want to follow orders.

Fine by me—I didn’t need to control her … I just wanted to sit back and watch her, try to figure out what made her tick and hold on for the ride. I knew she’d support me, but I also knew she’d protect me from myself. She’d already protected our clubs. Last night she’d done a better job than I had. I promised myself that I’d never pull that kind of bullshit on her again.

Hell, I should be following her lead, because she’d been smarter than me and Deke put together. Now that I’d cooled off, I could see the humor in the situation. Somehow she’d managed to bypass all of us, not exactly defusing the situation, but definitely ending it without violence.

So what if Deke was pissed? So far as I could tell, the man was permanently pissed. He hated the Jacks and had threatened to kill me more than once, so I wasn’t exactly crying over his hurt feelings. As for Em, she was under my protection now, so it didn’t really matter how frustrated he got. He’d be dealing with me from now on.

Em squirmed in my arms, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I reached down and slipped my fingers into her hot warmth, and she squeaked in my arms. Why the fuck was I thinking about Deke when I had a naked woman in my arms?

I swiveled Em in my arms, finding her mouth and sucking her lower lip into mine. Then I lifted her, carrying her out of the tub and setting her on the bathroom counter. My hand slipped between us, dipping into that sweet pussy of hers.

So fucking hot and tight …

Em gasped against my mouth, giving me the opportunity to slip my tongue inside. Down below, I had two fingers up inside her now. She clenched around me, bringing back some mighty fine memories of her wrapped around my cock the other night, when we visited my very favorite alley in the history of time.

She reached down and grabbed my dick, squeezing it hard like I’d taught her the night before.

Very nice.

Then she tried to guide me into her.

“Condom,” I managed to get out. “They’re out in the room.”

“Let’s go find them,” Em whispered, her blue eyes bright and hungry. Like I’d argue with that? She hopped down and tried to push past me, but I caught her, jerking her into my body for a long, hard kiss that left both of us gasping.

“Holy crap,” she muttered as I let her lips go. “How do you do that? Seriously, that was like a movie kiss or something.”

“Chemistry,” I told her. “Technique doesn’t even start to explain something this good.”

She gave me a wicked smile.

“Ooohh, I love chemistry. How ’bout you be the science teacher, and I’ll be the dirty girl who needs detention?”

EM

I tripped out of the bathroom, giggling as Hunter lunged after me. He caught me, lifting me high and throwing me down on the bed. Before I could catch my breath, he had me over his lap, one hand in the center of my back, the other sliding down between the cheeks of my ass.

I screamed, wiggling wildly.

“You said you needed detention,” he told me, his voice stern. “I’m just trying to be a good teacher.”

With this his fingers slid into me, deep. I stiffened at the invasion, then relaxed and sighed as he found my G-spot.

“That good?” he asked, rubbing my back up and down.

“Sure,” I muttered, letting my head fall forward on the bed. It felt more than fine, actually. His fingers kept working me, and then his second hand lifted and smacked my ass abruptly.

I squealed and tried to sit up, but he held me down tight. His thumb had found my clit, and now he worked me inside and out. I felt tension spiraling up, and I squirmed awkwardly. I wanted him inside me, damn it. Hunter had other ideas. His clever fingers kept going, pushing me closer to an orgasm.

Holy hell, that was nice.

“You like that?”

“Yeah,” I whimpered, twisting on his lap. “Like” wasn’t really the right word. I wanted him to go faster, harder. Instead he slowed down, teasing me with a low, satisfied laugh.

“Please,” I muttered, closing my eyes. “I need …”

Hunter smacked my ass again. I was so close now, something he must’ve sensed because he sped up again. My orgasm hovered, taunting me. I felt myself reaching for it, my legs stiffening. Hunter’s cock was rock hard beneath me, and I realized with a thrill that after I came, I had another whole ride ahead of me.

That pushed me over the edge.

When I came, it hit so hard I clawed the bed, completely focused on the sensations taking over my body. Holy shit, that was incredible. I drifted through the aftershocks as he lifted me, laying me down on my stomach across the bed. I stretched out my arms, enjoying the feel of cool sheets beneath me as he stretched over me.

Hunter kissed his way slowly down my back, fingers trailing along the lines of my body until they reached my rear. My flesh knew the touch of his hands now, and when he slid his fingers back in, I sighed happily. Then his thumb edged up, lightly touching my asshole, and I stiffened.

“Trust me, babe?”

I considered the question. I trusted him not to hurt me, but this? I wasn’t sure I was ready for this.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, kissing the small of my back. “Christ, I’ll never run out of ways I want to fuck you, believe me. If you don’t like one, we’ll move on.”

I sighed, then rolled over. Hunter nudged my knees apart, settling himself over my body as he smoothed a condom down over the length of his erection. I watched, mesmerized that something so large could fit inside me.

Then he kissed me, tongue probing deep as my arms came up around his shoulders. The kiss went on forever, alternating between deep, openmouthed tongue-play and him pulling back to suck and nibble on my lips. The whole time I shifted restlessly beneath him, his dick sliding back and forth along my clit.

Perfect.

Hunter lifted his head, eyes dark with need.

“You ready?” he asked me, positioning the tip of his cock against my opening. I nodded, more than ready. I felt his broad, rounded head push against me, slowly sliding deep inside. This was different than that first time. He was gentle this morning, and while the pain I’d felt in the alley had been sheer pleasure, this was something different entirely.

This was fantastic.

He spread me wide, opening me up as I watched us come together. There was something incredibly sexy about the sight of his cock entering my body.

I reached down between us, rubbing my clit gently.

“That’s fucking hot,” Hunter said, looking up at my face with a smile that literally took my breath away. “I think you should have to touch yourself every time we’re alone together, even if we’re just watching a movie or something.”

“That might get awkward,” I murmured, trying not to giggle.

“I don’t care,” he said, his tone urgent. “Fuck awkward. I want this.”

“Ahh …” I gasped as he hit bottom. I let my hand drop, savoring the feeling of being pinned down.

“I like those little gasping noises you make, too,” he said. “In fact, I like almost everything you do when you’re naked.”

This time I did giggle, although I stopped as he pulled out, then started sliding in a rhythm that had clearly been invented by Satan for the express purpose of driving me crazy. I tilted up my hips just a little, which was just enough to make his cock drag along my clit with each stroke. Then I let my arms flop to the side, because everything felt so good I couldn’t imagine doing anything but just lying back and drinking it in.

“Sorry,” I murmured. “I think I’ve lost the ability to move.”

“Your moves last night were pretty good,” he told me. “I’ll give you a freebie?”

“Perfect,” I whimpered, then closed my eyes to focus on the sensations running through me. Damn. Hunter was just really good at sex.

My orgasm built slowly this time.

Not because it wasn’t perfect, the way he moved inside me. But I was more relaxed than I’d been in the alley, able to simply enjoy the feeling of his hard cock filling me and then retreating, brushing my clit and bumping my G-spot with every stroke. And even though his movements stayed slow and steady, each one built me up just a little higher until I felt an electrical tension winding tight.

“You getting close?” he asked, dropping his head to kiss the side of my neck.

“Uh-huh,” I managed to say. “Very close. Oh God. Just a little more.”

He sped up then, clearly reading my desire. Now his strokes hit harder, pushing up against my cervix with every thrust. It should’ve been painful, but it felt fantastic.

Just what I needed to push me over the edge.

When I finally came, it was almost a surprise. He’d created such a slow, steady buildup that I hadn’t realized just how close I’d gotten until it hit. I spasmed around him, setting him off because he started moving faster, pounding me into the bed for long seconds before he came, too.

I felt his pulsing release with deep satisfaction, loving the press of his weight across my body. My arms wrapped around him, fingers tracing the lines of his back gently.

“I’ve decided we’re staying here in the hotel,” he muttered, nuzzling my hair. “We’ll have food delivered and I’ll just keep you naked.”

Food?

My stomach woke up, growling suddenly. My cheeks heated with a blush. Could I ever—even for a day—be smooth and fabulous? Apparently not.

“Or I can take you out and we can talk,” Hunter said, winking at me. “I don’t want you fainting from exhaustion, and I have a feeling that if we stay in, you’re not gonna get a chance to actually eat.”

“Waffles?” I asked hopefully. He lifted up on his arms and smiled.

“Honey, seeing as my dick’s still in your body, you can have whatever the hell you want.”

HUNTER

I glanced over at Em, then reached down to catch her hand and put it on my thigh. It wasn’t as good as having her arms around me on the bike, but her sitting next to me in my truck kicked ass in a big way.

God.

I still couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to have this woman, despite everything I’d put her through. Emmy Hayes was either a saint or an idiot. Seeing as we’d already established she was smarter than me, I was hoping for saint.

“So, any place you want to go special?” I asked. She smiled at me, those brilliant blue eyes flashing.

“Anywhere they have food. I can’t believe we’re up already. You’d think we’d be exhausted after last night …”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I promise I won’t faint on you,” I said with a smirk. She giggled. Then her face sobered.

“Hunter—”

“Liam.”

“Liam, I don’t want to get all weird and serious on you,” she said. “But I’m pretty sure I’ll be getting a pissed-off phone call from my dad in the next hour or so. Things got a little out of control last night … I’m not sure what I should tell him.”

“You’ll tell him you belong to me now,” I said, turning into a Denny’s parking lot. Not the world’s greatest food, but they’d have waffles. Damn, I’d learn to cook them myself if it made her happy.

“What do you mean, exactly?”

I put the truck into park, then glanced over at her. Uh-oh. Em’s face was shadowed and worried. I reached out and caught her chin, turning her to face me.

“You’re my old lady,” I said, catching and holding her eyes. “I respect that he’s your dad and I don’t want to get between you two. But he needs to know you’re mine now. If he has a problem with that, you hand him off to me. I’m serious, babe. Nobody gets between us. Never again.”

She blinked, her eyes bright.

“Okay,” she whispered. “But—”

“No,” I said. “That’s all there is. We’ll have shit come up, fight, whatever. But you’re mine now. I won’t be sharing you, I won’t be leaving you, and I sure as fuck won’t let the Reapers take you away from me.”

“I hear what you’re saying,” she said slowly. “But I think I should make something clear, too.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t share, either. I know guys in clubs who have two or three old ladies. Or they have a citizen wife and a club girlfriend. You should be aware that this is an exclusive relationship, and that’s nonnegotiable.”

I shrugged.

“Okay,” I said, reaching for the door. “Let’s get food.”

She grabbed my arm.

“No, I’m serious,” she said. “You can’t just blow this off.”

“Baby, I’m not blowing it off,” I said, smiling. I kind of liked jealous Em. “But seriously—I don’t give a shit about anyone else anyway. We’re fine.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You’re a little too good at this,” she said. “Got all the right answers.”

“It’s hard to be perfect, but I have lots of practice.”

She hit my arm and laughed. Then her face sobered.

“I have another serious question for you,” she said. “I don’t want the right answer, though. I want the truth, even if it hurts.”

Shit. That didn’t sound good.

“Do you love me?”

I studied her, considering my answer.

“No,” I said finally. Her face fell, but I pushed forward. “My life has been pretty fucked up, Em. I’m not even sure I believe in love. But here’s what I can tell you—I’ve never given a shit about any woman except you and Kelsey. That’s it. Hell, I don’t even remember their names half the time, and until I saw you I never even saw a problem with that.”

She blinked rapidly. Christ, telling the truth sucked. But she asked for it and I’d already done enough lying.

“I remember the first time I laid eyes on you,” I said. “It was at that little mini mall across from Costco, back in Coeur d’Alene. You’d just gotten your toes painted at the Vietnamese pedicure place. You had those funny, girly things between your toes and you fell off the damned sidewalk because instead of watching where you walked, you were looking at your phone.”

“That never happened. I’ve never fallen down after a pedicure—I’d remember. That would totally ruin the nails.”

“Well, you missed the curb but still managed to catch yourself,” I told her, smiling at the memory. “Your phone fell down and broke, I think. I remember you looked up, right at me in my truck, and started laughing at yourself. Then you waved at me, grabbed the phone, and got in your car.”

She frowned.

“I actually remember that,” she murmured thoughtfully. “That was you?”

“Yup, that was me.”

“That’s … creepy. And weird, because why didn’t I recognize you when we met again?”

“I had a full beard, my hair was shorter, and I was wearing sunglasses,” I said. “Not only that, the window was tinted. I guess my point is this—I’ve spent days fucking women whose names I couldn’t remember if my life depended on it. But you? I remember everything about the first time I saw you, even though we didn’t even talk to each other. That’s when it started, whatever this is between us. ‘Love’ is a word that doesn’t mean a damned thing to me. ‘Em,’ though? That’s a word that means everything. I’d die for you, babe. Kill for you, too. I stood up to my club for you and I don’t regret any of it, not for a minute. So, you wanted to know how I feel? I don’t even have a word for what I feel, sweetheart. I just know it’s really fuckin’ good.”

Em sniffed, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around me. She squeezed me tight, then pulled back and took my face in both of her hands, studying me intently.

“I love you, Liam.”

I closed my eyes, savoring the sound of the words. Then I said the only thing I could think of, even though I knew it was fucking pathetic.

“Thanks.”

Her face fell, although she caught it, smiling at me a little too brightly.

Telling the truth sucks ass.

Chapter Sixteen

FIVE DAYS LATER

EM

On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, I walked into the upstairs bathroom to find black beard hairs all over the sink. Ugh. Boy cooties.

“I really need to get an apartment,” I muttered.

“No shit.”

I jumped as Skid spoke behind me. I swung around to face him, glaring. God, the man was like a fucking cat—always sneaking up and freaking me out. I think he got off on it.

I’d been staying with Hunter since he’d liberated me from Cookie’s house, which started out fun. I’d gone back a few times, of course, and still kept most of my stuff there. I couldn’t live at her place long term, though, not if I wanted to have Hunter sleeping with me. Cookie didn’t want me bringing guys home, and the last thing we needed was another confrontation between Deke and my boyfriend. Somewhere Hunter could stay over had become a very high priority.

God, this house was a cesspit.

I’d made excuses for the guys at first. It’s hard to keep up with housework, especially if you’re not used to it. Clutch still couldn’t get around very easily, and they had so much to worry about with all the drama.

Yeah, after five nights here I could officially call bullshit on the excuses. Sure, they had to worry about the cartel. That consisted of keeping their eyes open for anything suspicious (nothing) and bitching (endlessly). I knew Hunter and Skid ran errands for Burke, and I knew that Grass held down a job of some sort … But so far as I could tell, their other primary activity was watching porn.

Oh, did I mention the extensive porn collection?

And I do mean extensive.

Kelsey and I got drunk together Sunday night and she filled me in. She was sleeping with Skid, something I couldn’t quite understand a woman doing voluntarily, but she assured me she was just using him for sex. According to her, the place was a clubhouse in every way but name, seeing as Portland wasn’t an official charter. Unofficially, Hunter was acting as president, with Skid as his VP/sergeant at arms. Grass and Clutch were muscle.

All of them were pigs.

I turned to look at Skid, who stood in the doorway behind me.

“Got any suggestions?” I asked. “I need somewhere cheap that doesn’t smell like feet.”

He sniffed, then gave me a puzzled look.

“It doesn’t smell like feet in here.”

“No, in here it smells like mildew.”

He shook his head, frowning.

“Did Kelsey talk to you?”

“About what?” I asked.

“Her place,” he said. “She’s got a spare room and she’s having trouble making rent. I had to buy her groceries this month. She was going to see if you wanted to move in.”

“She didn’t say anything.”

“I wonder if Hunter told her not to,” he said slowly. “He’s worried she’ll be a bad influence on you. He might’ve mentioned something to her about backing off and leaving you alone. If you ask about the room, I bet she’ll say yes.”

“What the hell is up with you two, anyway?”

“Me and Hunter?”

“No, you and Kelsey.”

“Fuck if I know. When she’s horny, she comes to see me. Sometimes. Pretty sure she has at least one other guy on the side.”

“And you’re cool with that?”

He shrugged.

“I can get laid other ways, too,” he said. “No shortage of pussy. But I don’t like seeing her struggle—sharing a place would be a good solution for both of you. You should talk.”

“I will, thanks.”

Huh … That was almost … nice?

Skid nodded and took off down the hallway. Weird guy. I wasn’t nearly as scared of him these days, but I wouldn’t mind seeing less of him. I closed the toilet seat, setting my stuff on it while I grabbed a chunk of toilet paper to wipe down the counter. That’s when my phone started ringing. I glanced at the Caller ID.

Dad.

I swallowed, trying to decide if I should answer. Things were a little awkward between us, although he kept tabs on me through Kit. To say our initial conversation about Hunter hadn’t gone well was an understatement. A big understatement.

Fortunately, nothing new had happened in the whole Reapers/Devil’s Jacks/cartel triangle since the original shootings, but people weren’t exactly breathing easy these days. I think we all assumed it was just a matter of time.

I sighed and grabbed the phone. I didn’t want him worrying about me, and I knew he would if he couldn’t track me down.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, Emmy,” he said. Thankfully, I could tell from the tone of his voice that there wasn’t an emergency. Lately my default assumption was disaster. “I’m just calling to find out if you’re coming home for Thanksgiving. There’s supposed to be a snowstorm tonight, figured I’d check in. You’ll want to drive during daylight tomorrow, if you plan to be here …”

I smiled despite myself. No matter how weird life got, some things about Dad never changed.

“It’s killing you that you’re not here to check the tire pressure on my winter tires, isn’t it?”

He stayed silent for a minute.

“Not gonna answer that,” he said finally. “But since we’re talking vehicles, when’s the last time you changed your oil? I think it’s just a matter of time before that car starts burning it. You should really be thinking about getting something newer.”

“My car is fine, Dad,” I said, feeling a little squishy inside. Sure, he drove me crazy. But I also loved the way he was always watching out for me. I missed him, I realized. I wanted to go home for the holiday.

“I need to talk to Hunter about Thanksgiving,” I said slowly. “We’d discussed cooking something here, with his brothers.”

Silence fell.

“You could bring him to Coeur d’Alene,” Dad said.

I almost dropped the phone.

“Can you repeat that? I think I heard you wrong. Did you just invite Hunter for Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Not to the Armory, of course. I know you’re convinced he’s all innocent and shit, but a lot of the guys don’t buy it. But I’ll let him into the house if you come home.”

I tried to process this.

“Where would he sleep?”

I heard a strangled noise on the other end of the line.

“He could stay in your room with you.”

“Dad?” I asked carefully. “Are you dying?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Like, do you have cancer or something? This isn’t you. You’re being … nice.”

“I want my daughter home for fucking Thanksgiving,” he snapped. “If that means I have to put up with her douchebag boyfriend, I will.”

“He’s my old man, and he’s not a douchebag.”

“Talk to your sister,” he said suddenly, and then Kit was on the phone.

“I think Dad’s about to have a stroke,” she told me, her voice excited, the words tripping out almost too fast to follow. “Seriously. He’s clenching his fists and his face is all red.”

“He just told me Hunter could sleep in my room for Thanksgiving.”

Dead silence.

“That is so fucking unfair,” she burst out. “You know how many guys I’ve tried to bring home? He never lets any of them stay with us.”

“That’s the problem,” I heard Dad say in the background. “Guys. Plural. I don’t agree with Em’s choice, but at least she made one. You’re just using them up like tissues.”

“Like you should talk?” she demanded. “You’re worse than a fucking alley cat!”

Great. Once they started, they could go on like this for hours. I hung up, knowing Kit wouldn’t even notice. I’d talk to Hunter after my shower, I decided. I wasn’t quite sure what to think. I wanted to be with my family for the holiday, but I didn’t entirely trust Dad not to shoot Hunter. He’d nearly killed at least two of my boyfriends in the past, and they hadn’t even done anything to piss him off.

I shut the door and locked it, then stripped down and stepped into the shower with a shudder. I’d bleached the hell out of it the first morning I’d stayed there, but whatever lived in there was vigorous and fighting back. Nasty black crap was already creeping in along the seams.

Kelsey, I thought. Talk to Kelsey, see if she has room. No matter how much you love him, you can’t live in a house where the shower is hostile and sentient.

And to think, all this time I’d been afraid of the Devil’s Jacks and their guns—it’d never occurred to me that the real danger was their disgusting, moldy bathroom.

Chemical warfare.

Hopefully Hunter would go to Dad’s house with me. At least there, I knew the bathroom would be cleanish. I’d only been gone from Coeur d’Alene a month, nowhere near enough time for this kind of damage, even if Dad deliberately sprayed the mold with magic mold-food every day.

HUNTER

Em sat on my lap, her legs on either side of my hips, facing me. She was a smart girl—it’s pretty damned hard for a man to say no to a woman when her pussy’s snuggling up to his cock. Would’ve been perfect if it weren’t for her clothes. I really needed to steal those, maybe set them on fire …

“So you’ll come with me?” she asked. “I won’t leave without you, but I really want to go. You can even bring Kelsey.”

I snorted.

“Kelsey hates holidays. Says they make her think of kittens vomiting, too much nice family crap.”

Em frowned and cocked her head.

“That makes me sad,” she said softly. “You guys deserved so much better.”

“It’s better now, babe.” I leaned up and kissed her, sucking her lower lip into my mouth. She wiggled against my dick, with predictable results. Would I ever get tired of holding this woman? Couldn’t imagine it happening, that’s for damned sure.

Then she pulled away and I groaned.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, smiling at me eagerly. “Will you come for Thanksgiving?”

“You’re not being particularly subtle,” I told her, raising a brow.

“I’m all about direct communication. What’s the verdict?”

“I need to talk to Burke about it,” I said, considering. “I know it’s about seeing your family, but there could be larger implications. But if Burke’s okay with it, I can’t imagine anything more fun than spending a holiday in the home of the man who wants me dead. Like our own fuckin’ Hallmark movie, but with live ammo.”

Em squealed, wrapping her arms around my neck and squeezing tight. This crushed her boobs against my chest, which I approved of completely. Did Hallmark movies have sex scenes?

“You’re the best,” she whispered. “I can’t wait to show you everything. And I promise, I’ll protect you from Dad.”

I burst out laughing.

“I don’t need protection.”

She pulled away and gave me a look.

“Yeah, right,” she muttered. “You’re a big bad biker and everyone is afraid of you. Unfortunately, so are the Reapers, and there’s a whole lot of them all concentrated in one place. We’re going to play it safe the whole time, I promise. This means so much to me, Liam—when will you talk to Burke?”

“He’s supposed to call sometime this evening,” I said, running my hands down her back to cup her ass. “I’ll ask him then.”

“Sounds good,” she murmured as I pulled her up tight into my hips. Then I rolled until she lay flat under me, all soft and open and gorgeous.

“I love seeing you like this,” I said. “Love it when your hair is all over my pillow. I want a picture.”

“What do you mean?”

I reached for my phone, unlocking it and opening the camera app. Then I sat up, straddling her, and held it over her head.

“I want a picture of you like this. Smile for me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Way to put me on the spot,” she muttered, but she smiled. Then right as I took the shot, she stuck out her tongue.

“You’re a very naughty girl,” I said, frowning at her. “Now smile for real this time or I’m giving you a spanking.”

I snapped another shot as the disposable cell on my bedside table started ringing.

“That’ll be Burke,” I said. I dropped my phone on the covers and reached for the burner. “I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move.”

She laughed and nodded. I took the cell and stepped out of the room, answering it in the hallway.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

“The sky and hard dicks,” Burke said. “What the hell do you think?”

I snorted.

“God, you’re a ray of sunshine in my life.”

“I do my best. We’ve got news,” he said. “Not good news. I guess there’s a guy up in Coeur d’Alene pretending to be a Devil’s Jack. Got a call from a bar owner, says he’s been in a couple times, talking shit about the Reapers, making threats.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Nope.”

“Any chance he’s one of ours?” I asked. Shit. I really, really didn’t want to put another brother in the ground.

“He’s not ours,” Burke said. “But he’s sneaky as hell. I guess the Reapers know about him, but they haven’t caught up to him yet. He must’ve been sent by the cartel, kind of like waving a red flag in front of a bull. They’re desperate for us to turn on each other. I think there’s something deeper going on down south than just a territorial expansion. This isn’t their usual M.O.”

“You want me to look into it?” I asked, leaning back against the wall. “I’ve got the perfect excuse. You’ll never guess who called today and invited me to his place for Thanksgiving.”

“Hayes?”

“Got it in one,” I answered. “You think it’s related?”

“Possible,” Burke said. “I can think of several reasons he might do it. He wants his kid back, probably sees inviting you as the best way to get her there. Not only that, you walk right into his house, easy as hell to ambush you. Or I suppose—and this is a hell of a long shot—that it’s possible he’s just being a decent human being, opening his home to his daughter’s old man. If we can open communications, that’d be a real win-win here.”

“So basically I’m bait?” I asked.

“I prefer the word ‘chum.’ ”

“You have no idea how inspiring it is for a man to get a personal pep talk like this from his president. I’m assuming finding this faker is a high priority while I’m there?”

“You got it.”

“And if I find him?”

“I’ll want to talk to him,” Burke said. “If he’s connected to the cartel, we’ll share him with the Reapers. Maybe that’ll convince them we’re for real. After that, accidents happen. Now go tell your girl you’re going home with her for the holiday. Maybe get a special ‘thank you’ blow job. I think you should enjoy your dick while you still can—Reese Hayes is probably planning to cut it off when you get there.”

He hung up on me, and I snorted. Always a joy.

I turned off the phone and opened my bedroom door.

“Hey, babe …”

I froze, taking in the sight of Em kneeling in the center of my bed, staring at me with tearstained eyes. Her hand trembled as she held up my phone. Fuck. Something was very, very wrong.

“I wanted to surprise you,” she said softly. “Put that new picture with my contact info, so you’d see it whenever I call. I went to grab the one you just took.”

Oh, double fuck. I knew exactly where this was going.

“Em—”

“Don’t you fucking talk to me!” she screamed suddenly, throwing the phone across the room at me like a missile. I ducked and it hit the wall, faceplate shattering.

Okay. She’d found the pictures I was supposed to erase. Time for damage control.

“Let me explain.”

“I. Said. Don’t. Talk. To. Me.” she said, her voice like ice. That was when it hit me. I’d screwed up bad. Real bad. “You know, I wasn’t even trying to snoop. You took that picture less than five minutes ago, your goddamned phone was still turned on when you dropped it. It was in a fucking album with my name on it. Christ, Hunter. Do you ever tell the truth? You promised me you’d delete those photos. You promised me. I shouldn’t be afraid to look at something that has my fucking name written on it!”

Her voice had been rising steadily through the whole little speech, and I winced by the end because she’d gotten so shrill it actually hurt my ears. To my horror, Em climbed out of the bed and started grabbing things, stuffing them into her backpack.

“I suppose it’s too much to ask whether you shared them with the other guys?” she muttered. “Let me guess, did you give them to the whole club, or just the guys here at the house? I know how much you all enjoy your porn. I suppose I should feel honored you felt I could compete.”

“Nobody has ever seen those but me,” I told her, holding up my hands defensively. Shit. I’d had girls mad at me before, but I’d never really cared. Jesus—no wonder women hated me, if I made them feel this way. “I swear to you, Em. I kept them for myself …”

“Like that makes it better?”

She leaned over and grabbed my phone off the floor, stuffing it into her pocket. Then she swung her backpack over her shoulder and came to stand in front of me, arms crossed over her chest protectively.

Em wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Nope, she just stared at my chest coldly.

“Move out of my way,” she said. “I’m leaving. I can’t stand to be around your lying ass right now.”

“We need to talk—”

She held up a hand.

“You will move out of the way,” she said, every word slow and distinct.

“This isn’t over,” I said carefully. “You go and calm down. Then we’ll talk.”

“I can’t think about that right now,” she muttered, pushing through the door. She started toward the stairs, then turned back to look at me. “You’ve lied to me all along. Makes me wonder … What else have you been lying to me about?”

I shook my head.

“Nothing,” I said quietly. Em shrugged.

“I don’t believe you.”

EM

Deke’s bike was parked outside Cookie’s house when I pulled up in the darkness.

Just what I needed.

I punched in the code and crept inside, not wanting to wake her up. It wasn’t that late—only eleven—but she went to bed early because her shop opened at five every morning.

Knowing my luck, Deke would still be up.

I stepped inside, closing the door carefully. No sign of Deke in the living room. He must be sleeping in Silvie’s room. Lucky me. I started down the hallway, but halfway down, Silvie’s door opened, and Cookie stepped out. She froze with a guilty, deer-in-the-headlights look on her face.

“I had a fight with Hunter,” I said quickly. “I don’t want Deke or anyone else to know about it.”

Cookie nodded, then glanced back at Silvie’s door.

“Let’s just say tonight’s a don’t-ask, don’t-tell situation?”

“It’s all about plausible deniability,” I answered, desperate to get away and pretend I hadn’t seen anything. She nodded, then darted down the hall to her own room. I followed her lead, closing my door and locking it behind me. Deke? Ugh. I pulled off my clothes and climbed into bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind spinning. It felt like everything was going horribly wrong.

Hunter had lied to me, keeping my pictures.

Cookie and Deke were … doing things I didn’t want to think about.

At least Kit and Dad were still fighting. Not everyone in the world had lost their minds. It would be good to see them tomorrow. I’d leave Portland around ten, and enjoy the holidays Hunter-free. It would give me time to think and decide what I should do about the situation.

I was pretty sure I’d made a terrible mistake. I just wasn’t sure whether that mistake was falling for him in the first place or walking out on him after our fight.

Chapter Seventeen

“Wake up!” someone yelled, pounding on my door. I rolled over, trying to figure out what was going on. The spot next to me in bed was empty, and I frowned.

Where was Hunter?

Then it came back. The pictures. Lying bastard.

“Fucking wake up,” Deke shouted at me, his voice grumpy. I stumbled to my feet, thankful I’d pulled on sweats to sleep in last night. I managed to open the door a crack and look out at him.

“What is it?”

“You left something disgusting in the driveway,” he said. “Go clean it up or I will.”

I raised my brows.

“What are you talking about?”

“Go see for yourself,” he muttered. “Oh, and Em?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to hear any rumors about Cookie. Got me?”

Seriously?

“Cookie is my friend,” I said, trying not to yawn as I rubbed my eyes. “She opened her home to me, she gave me a job, and she treats me like a sister. No matter what I might think about you, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”

He studied me, eyes narrowed. Then he nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Good to know.”

I rolled my eyes and shut the door. God. I had no idea what she saw in him. None.

Five minutes later I stood on the porch, looking out across the lawn to the driveway. My little car was tucked up next to the garage. Boxing it in neatly was Hunter’s truck. I couldn’t see that well, but he seemed to be asleep in the front seat.

Fucking great.

I marched over to the truck, slamming my hand down on the hood with a crash. Hunter sat up quickly, and I saw him reach for something. Probably a gun. Good—he might need it if he fucked with me any more this morning.

He opened his door and stepped out. His face was drawn and tired, his hair messy and tangled, like he’d been running his hands through it. I’m probably a horrible person, but it made me happy to see him suffer a little.

“Hey, Em,” he said, his voice low. “I know you don’t want to see me, but I had to catch you before you took off. I assume you’re still planning to go to Coeur d’Alene?”

“Yes,” I replied, folding my arms. “Probably leaving in a couple of hours. We can talk when I get back, Hunter. I’m still too pissed right now.”

He shook his head slowly.

“Sorry, babe. Can’t let you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Drive to Coeur d’Alene by yourself.”

I raised my brows.

“Have you lost your mind? Consider yourself uninvited to Thanksgiving, asshole.”

“I don’t have to be at your house with you,” he said quietly. “But with all that’s happening, there’s no way I want you driving across the state by yourself. If you don’t let me go with you, they’ll make some prospect do it. Do you really want some poor kid to miss the holiday with his family just so you don’t have to look at me during a car ride?”

When he put it that way, I felt like a bitch. Of course I didn’t.

“Okay, you can drive with me,” I said. “But you’re on your own once we get there.

“I’ll be driving,” he said. “We’ll leave your car here. I’ll stay with friends or in a hotel, but I’m delivering you safe to your family.”

“Controlling much? What’s wrong with my car?”

“Babe, think it through. If I’m in Coeur d’Alene for the weekend, I’ll need some way to get around. You’ll have your sister and dad to ride with.”

I glared at him a moment longer, because he was making sense and that was frustrating as all hell.

“I hate it when you’re right,” I finally muttered. He gave me a crooked smile, so sexy I actually felt a twinge down below.

Bad girl!

“Well, lately I’m not right very much,” Hunter said. “Don’t know if it makes a difference, but I’m really damned sorry for what I did to you.”

“About that,” I said, glancing away. “You’re going to need a new phone. Yours may have gotten smashed up a little more after I left last night… maybe run over a couple times.”

“Kinda figured there might be a tragic accident,” he said with a straight face. “I’ll pick one up.”

“What about the pictures?” I asked. “Where else do you have them?”

“They were backed up on my laptop,” Hunter said. He caught and held my gaze. “I erased all but one last night. Secure erased, overwritten on the hard drive. Nobody will be able to get to them now.”

I considered, wondering if he was telling the truth.

“I don’t know whether to believe you. And what’s this ‘all but one’ bullshit?”

Hunter glanced down at the pavement.

“I kept it,” he admitted. “My favorite. I figured if you’re dumping my ass, I wanted something to remember you by. As for believing me, I guess the only way to get there is for you to give me another chance. Give me a shot, Em. No more lies. We both know there’s shit I can’t tell you—”

I cut him off, holding up a hand.

“Club stuff wasn’t part of this,” I said. “And you know that I know better, so don’t try to use it as an excuse.”

He sighed, leaning back against his truck, hands in his pockets. I tried to think, figure out what to do.

“You can drive me home,” I said slowly. “But you’re not staying with me, and this isn’t me saying we’re back together. I need time to think things through, decide if you’re worth the risk. I won’t be with someone I can’t trust.”

“I understand,” he said. “If nothing else, I’m relieved you’ll let me see you home. We all want you safe—me and your dad both. He and I aren’t on the same side very much, but I respect the hell out of him. He raised a daughter who won’t take my shit.”

I turned away, my eyes suddenly full of tears.

“Deke says you need to leave,” I said. “Come pick me up at ten.”

“Will you actually be here?”

Swinging back around, I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me, Hunter. Don’t worry, I’m not the liar in this relationship. I’ll be here.”

“Guess I earned that,” he muttered.

“Damned straight. Now get out of here before Deke has a temper tantrum.”

HUNTER

I watched Em out of the corner of my eye as I drove. She was staring out the window at the desert, apparently fascinated by the vast expanse of nothing. Either that or she just wouldn’t look at or talk to me because she was pissed off.

Still pissed off, that was.

We’d been on the road for three hours, and the only time she’d said a word was when she needed a pit stop. It’d felt like a huge victory this morning when she’d agreed to ride with me—like getting a second chance. Now I was starting to worry it was just a ride, that she’d never talk to me again. That fucking hurt. Hurt in a way I’d never experienced before. Like real pain, physical pain.

I was starting to hate this romance shit. Life is just so much damned easier when you don’t feel anything.

I had to make it end.

Spotting an exit up ahead, I flipped on my turn signal.

“What’s up?” she asked, turning to me and frowning.

“You’ll see,” I murmured. We pulled off the freeway and I turned onto the small, lonely road and started driving. A few minutes later we passed behind a big hill littered with exposed rock formations and tumbleweeds. I slowed and shifted the truck into park, swiveling to face her. She stared straight ahead.

“Em,” I started.

“I’m not ready to talk to you,” she said. “Just keep driving. I don’t know how I’ll feel after the weekend, but I just want a break from you right now.”

“You want to kick me in the balls again?”

Christ, did those words just come out of my mouth?

Em looked at me. Finally.

“What is this, some kind of joke?” she demanded. “You think me kicking you will change what you did?”

I shook my head slowly.

“Nope, I know it won’t change a thing,” I said. “But it might make you feel a little better, at least it seemed to last time. If it does, that’s good enough for me.”

“I won’t promise to forgive you.”

“That’s okay.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“You’re insane,” she muttered, but I could see her softening, her mouth twitching. Thank fuck for that. “Kicking you in the nuts won’t fix anything.”

My balls agreed one hundred percent.

“But you know what? Last time it really did make me feel better. Let’s do it.”

I swallowed, then opened the truck door and stepped outside slowly. Em climbed out, and we met in front of the truck. I spread my legs, crossed my arms, and waited.

“Close your eyes,” Em said, her voice cold. Somehow that was worse, but I did it anyway. “And pull down your pants. Briefs, too.”

“That’s not part of the deal.”

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll get back in the truck. Let’s go.”

I looked up at the sky and swallowed, wondering how I could care about someone so much and want to strangle her so badly at the same time. Then I unbuckled my pants and dropped them, closing my eyes. Nothing. She walked back to the truck and I heard her digging around.

“Do it,” I growled. “I can’t just stand here forever, waiting.”

“If you insist. Are you ready?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Fucking do it already, Em.”

“Okay, get ready.”

I heard a strange, popping noise, and then icy cold liquid sprayed my balls and cock.

“The fuck!” I yelled, jumping back and opening my eyes. Em stood in front of me, spraying me with a can of Diet Coke in one hand. The other held her phone.

Pictures … Fucking karma, biting me on the ass.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a bitch!”

“And you’re a dick,” she said sweetly, starting to laugh. The pop ran out, but that didn’t stop her giggles. I grabbed my pants, jerking them back up as I stuffed my wet dick back inside.

“What the fuck was that all about?”

“Payback,” she said, eyes bright. “You got bested by a girl, and I have the video to prove it. C’mon, you have to admit that was better than what you had planned?”

I scowled.

“I don’t know,” I muttered. “Are you going to show the pictures to Skid?”

“What, don’t like naked pictures floating around that you can’t control? Wow, that must really suck. I wonder what that feels like?”

“You know damned well I’ll lose face if they think I can’t control my woman. It’s not the same thing.”

The instant I said it, I knew I’d fucked up. Again. Christ, I should just crawl into a cave and die, it’d be more efficient.

“You want to try saying that a different way?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. “Only this time, listen to your words very carefully in your head first. Then ask yourself whether you ever want me touching your penis again.”

“I’m a dick,” I said, raising a hand to run it through my hair. “This is not a secret. But I don’t want to control you, Em. You know that. Fuck.”

“And I don’t want to humiliate you in front of your brothers,” she said seriously. “I just wanted you to feel a little of what I felt. At least I didn’t lie to you about it.”

“You’re right,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “I don’t know what else to say, babe. You were right, I was wrong.”

“That came out a lot better this time,” she said, offering me a smile. Then her face grew serious. “You know, when I kicked you before, it felt damned good, but it’s not like it changed anything. Am I supposed to torture you—just because I can—every time you screw up? I fucking love you, asshole. I don’t like seeing you in pain. That’s why lying to me was so horrible in the first place.”

I took a deep breath, overwhelmed. Fuck, I hated shit like this.

“I don’t deserve you, babe. But this last night? It’s like I died. If you forgive me, I swear to you—I swear—I will never knowingly do anything to hurt you again.”

“Knowingly?” she asked, cocking a brow. “That’s a pretty big loophole.”

“Let’s be honest here,” I said, throwing it all out. “We both know I’m gonna fuck up. But I’m pretty sure I love you, Em.”

Her breath caught.

“What did you just say?”

“I love you,” I repeated, the words tasting strange in my mouth. “At least, I think I love you. I’ve never felt this way before, but I can’t imagine caring about anyone more than this. I want to be with you, Emmy. Hell, I offered to let you kick my balls just so you’d feel better. Doesn’t that count for something?”

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms tight around my neck. I reached around her hesitantly, then pulled her close. Shallow man that I am, my cock immediately hardened, despite the cold Diet Coke shower.

“I love you, too,” she whispered. “But I need to know one more thing.”

“What?”

“Which picture did you keep?”

I stilled. Now there was a trick question. All of them were damning, but I had a feeling she’d hate the one I kept the most.

“The one of your ass all covered with my jizz,” I muttered, feeling like a bigger prick than ever before in my life. “It’s really hot, babe.”

She started laughing into my shoulder, or at least I hoped to hell she was laughing and not crying.

“Will you erase it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll forgive you. This time. But you don’t get another pass. No more lies. It’s a deal breaker for me, Liam.”

“Fuckin’ love my name comin’ out of your mouth.”

“I know,” she said. “I have a present for you.”

“Really?” I asked, pulling back to study her face. “What? Crap, that’s the wrong question. Why?”

“Maybe because I love you. Or maybe because you shouldn’t get out of this totally free and clear. So you have a choice … reunion sex—right here, right now—or you can keep that one special picture, so long as you never show it to anyone.”

Hellfire. And I thought the last one was a trick question.

“Can we got back to the getting-kicked-in-the-balls option instead?”

EM

“I still can’t believe you picked the photo,” I grumbled.

“Maturity is all about delaying pleasure to improve your situation long term,” Hunter said, grinning at me. “Love you, Em.”

I rolled my eyes. He’d said it something like ten times now, and as much as I enjoyed hearing the words, I was starting to feel like maybe we needed a new topic of conversation.

It was getting dark outside, and we’d just passed through Post Falls. A nasty, freezing rain had started as we drove through Spokane, slowing traffic. I saw at least four cars in the ditch along the way—I’d never admit it, but I was actually kind of glad Hunter was driving.

I was kind of glad we weren’t fighting anymore, too.

Not only that, Kit had texted a couple times, talking about all the different foods she’d bought for our dinner tomorrow. We loved cooking together, and while it wasn’t the same without Mom, I never felt closer to her than in the kitchen with my sister.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” I asked Hunter yet again. “I know it sounds like a joke, but Dad seriously has a history of shooting my boyfriends. He says it’s an accident, but after the second attempt you start to wonder.”

“Your other boyfriends weren’t like me,” he replied without a hint of concern. “The fact is, I’m with you and that’s not gonna change. Picnic and I will come to an understanding. Don’t worry about it.”

I tried to picture how that might play out.

“If he asks you for six goats in exchange for me, you don’t have to actually buy real goats. He’d probably take kegs instead.”

Hunter snorted, then reached over, putting his hand on my knee.

“Don’t worry about it, Em. You said you’d give me another shot, so trust me on this one. I’ve got it covered.”

My phone rang. Dad.

“I swear to God, he can hear when I’m talking about him,” I said, rolling my eyes as I answered the phone. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” he asked, voice tight. Well, crap. This wasn’t a friendly call to check up on us.

“We just passed through Post Falls,” I replied. “What’s going on?”

“I need you to come straight to the Armory. We’ve got a situation. There’s been another shooting, right here in Coeur d’Alene. We don’t have proof, but one of the Jacks has been in town for the past week.”

“Oh fuck …”

“What is it?” Hunter asked.

“Shooting,” I said, my voice terse.

“Give me the phone,” he demanded.

“Stop talking,” my dad ordered in my ear. “I’ll explain things to him in a minute. You will not tell him what I’m about to say to you, though. This is important.”

Oh my God. It was happening. Right here, right now … Things were falling apart between the clubs. Was I going to have to choose? I peeked at Hunter out of the corner of my eyes and swallowed.

“Give me the phone,” he said again. I shook my head.

“Let me finish talking to Dad,” I told him. “Then I’ll hand it over.”

Hunter nodded tightly, but I saw the muscles in his jaw clench.

“Like I said, come straight to the Armory,” Dad continued. “We don’t know that it’s the Devil’s Jacks, but if it is, you’re a valuable hostage. We’ve been through this before. I love you, Em. I loved your mother, too, so I know what it’s like to care about someone so much it hurts—I think that’s how you feel about Hunter. I hope to fuck he feels the same about you. But I need to get you away from him, get you somewhere safe until we figure things out.”

“Dad …” I whispered. I glanced at Hunter again and tried to think of how to say what needed to be said without kicking off the damned war all by myself.

“I’ll protect him, Em,” my father told me, apparently reading my mind. “I know you might not believe it, but I’ll make sure he gets through this alive, so long as he brings you home. If he gets hurt, it’ll be because of something he does, not because of who he is. I swear this, baby.”

“I’m giving the phone to Hunter now,” I said slowly.

“Promise me, you’ll come to the Armory?”

“I’ll let you know where we’re headed once we figure that out,” I replied, feeling my eyes tear up. Shit. This was happening so fast.

“Okay, pass me off to him.”

I handed over the phone, then watched as my man’s face slid into that horrible blankness I’d seen when he faced off against Deke.

“I understand,” he said. “We’re coming, don’t worry. I want her safe as much as you do.”

Then he hung up the phone.

“We’re going to the Armory,” he said, his voice almost expressionless. “There’s at least one shooter. I’m sure they suspect the Jacks—we know someone’s trying to start trouble in Coeur d’Alene. He’s not one of ours, Em. Part of my job this weekend was to hunt him down.”

My heart clenched.

“So this is actually a business trip for you?” I asked, feeling small.

“No,” he replied. “This shit came up after I asked Burke about visiting your family. If something happens to me, you need to convince your dad to at least talk to Burke before they do anything. Someone’s working very hard to turn us against each other. Don’t let them play you, okay?”

I swallowed.

“Okay,” I said. “Are you sure you want to go to the Armory? Dad says he’ll protect you, but he’s just one person.”

Hunter gave a short, harsh laugh, then looked over at me. He reached over and touched my cheek.

“The Armory is the safest place I can think of right now,” he said. “This isn’t the army we’re up against. It’s one or two shooters, and that place was built to withstand a hell of a lot worse. Your sister is already there, and I guess most of the other women are, too. Fuck of a way to start the holiday.”

I reached down and grabbed my purse, pulling out my little black semiautomatic. I checked the magazine before setting it in my lap.

Then I glanced back over at Hunter. To my surprise, he was smiling.

“Best fuckin’ old lady ever,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“No, that was my mom.”

“Love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.”

Guess we didn’t need another conversation topic after all.

Things fell to shit about three miles after we turned off the main highway headed north. The sun had just set, and the frozen rain had covered everything, leaving a sheen of ice across the road. God, I hated driving on ice.

I knew there were probably guys stationed at the turnoff to the Armory, but I didn’t see any of them. I’d texted Dad with our ETA and Hunter’s license plate number, so hopefully they were just letting us pass through because they recognized us. I knew they’d call it in, though, which meant we’d hit the point of no return.

“Slide your seat forward, Em,” Hunter said as we started up the winding road. I slid forward, and then he reached around behind my seat. I heard the sound of Velcro tearing open, and then I felt his hand against my back, inside the cushions.

He pulled out a large handgun.

“Hold this for a sec,” he said. Then he reached over again and dug around some more, this time bringing up two spare magazines.

“Okay, you’re good to scoot back. Take a look for me?”

I dropped the magazine and examined it. Fully loaded, all good. I popped it back in and chambered a round. He tucked it down between the seats after I handed it to him.

“You know, Dad would never trust me to check his gun.”

“He sees you as a little girl,” Hunter replied, his eyes darting back and forth across the road. “I see you as a competent adult, one I trust. Big difference. Something feels off here.”

I shivered, thinking he was right. The weather was forcing us to drive way too slow. Fucking ice.

Suddenly there was a loud bang and the truck careened to the right.

“Crap,” Hunter grunted, fighting the wheel as the truck lurched to the side. At first I thought we’d just blown a tire. Never a good thing, but not the end of the world. Then there was another loud bang, and the front end collapsed. Two tires out, I realized. We slid abruptly toward the edge of the road, Hunter cursing steadily, but there was just too much ice. I braced myself as the truck skidded off the embankment, rolling down the side of the hill and smashing into a tree. Air bags exploded as the truck flipped over onto its side, passenger window pointing toward the sky.

Sudden horrible silence filled the cab.

It all happened so fucking fast. I couldn’t quite breathe and my heart was exploding with adrenaline.

“Shit,” I muttered, pushing the bag away from my face. God, something smelled horrible. Like burning. “What happened?”

Hunter didn’t answer. I blinked, trying to get my bearings. My eyes were watering and I couldn’t quite see. The seat belt held me suspended on my side, the position painfully uncomfortable. I reached up and rubbed my eyes, which didn’t help, and realized that the air itself was hurting my lungs.

Flopping my hand around, I found the window control and pushed it, the battery miraculously still working. The window rolled down into the door and a rush of cold air came in. I took a deep breath. Thank God, I could breathe again. Unfortunately, with the fresh air came cold, freezing rain.

“Hunter?” I whispered. Nothing. I looked down at him and gasped. A shattered tree stump had smashed up through the driver-side window, the remains splintered into sharp spikes of wood. It was less than an inch from the front of Hunter’s face, and I saw blood trickling out of his nose. Branches and pine needles were everywhere, so many I could hardly see him. They filled his entire half of the cab.

“Babe?” I asked slowly. I reached down and touched his shoulder. He shifted his head and moaned. Alive. Thank God, because if that thing had been one inch closer, it would’ve gone right through his skull. I reached down and felt his neck, finding a strong pulse. Okay.

Now what?

I shook my own head, forcing myself to focus. I needed to call for help, but my purse had gone flying. Where the hell was my phone? I couldn’t see it anywhere, and I’d smashed his last night. Damn it. That’s what I got for having a temper tantrum. Then I spotted my purse down in the footwell.

But how to get it? I reached down with my left hand and braced my body against the side of Hunter’s seat, then unclicked my seat belt with my right, holding on to the strap like a jungle vine for balance. Slowly I slid down into my footwell, kneeling on the side by the center console.

Hunter stirred again.

“Em?” he asked, his voice rough.

“I’m fine, babe,” I said, looking down at him. His eyes were open now, and I tried to see his pupils. Were they the same size? That’s when I realized the radio was still playing … I reached up and turned on the light, and we both flinched from the sudden brightness.

“Look at me,” I said. His head turned, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Pupils were fine, and he seemed to be getting more alert every second. Must’ve hit just enough to knock him out, but hopefully nothing serious.

“We had an accident,” I explained, my voice shaking. “I don’t know what happened—I think we lost a couple tires, maybe? Then we hit ice.”

“Someone shot out the tires,” Hunter said. He started squirming in his seat, trying to move his arms, but the stump and branches held him completely trapped. “One tire blowing, I can see. But two? That’s someone who knows their shit. We need to assume they’re outside, Em. Have to get ready for them. Start by turning off the light. No reason to give them an easier target than we have to.”

I froze, eyes wide. I hadn’t quite processed the whole shooting thing, but of course this wasn’t an accident. Not good. Not good at all.

“This really sucks,” I whispered, then realized how ridiculously inadequate that was, given the situation. Shit. I turned off the light and started fumbling in the darkness for my purse. It fell open and I nearly lost the phone. I caught it right before it fell, but unfortunately I dropped the purse in the process.

Hunter watched the whole time, frustration written all over his face.

“Call your dad. The club can get here faster than anyone else, and they’ll have the best shot of dealing with whoever’s out there, too.”

“What about an ambulance?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” he said, twisting in his seat uncomfortably.

“That’s what people usually say right before the brain hemorrhage kills them. You need a hospital.”

“Em,” he said, his voice firm. “Stop talking to me and call your dad. Now. Then I want you to find my gun and get ready to protect yourself while I try to work myself loose. Fuckin’ tree.”

My hands shook a little as I dialed my father’s number, but I forced myself to stay calm. Our lives depended on me not falling apart, no matter how scary the situation had gotten.

“Yeah?”

“Dad, it’s Em,” I said. “We’re about four miles from the Armory, and we’re in trouble. Hunter’s truck went off the embankment by the railroad tracks, on the south side of the road. I need you to get here fast.”

“Ambulance?”

“Hunter says no,” I said, glancing down at him again. His color was good, so that was something. “Someone shot our tires. That means they’re out there right now, they’re close, and they know what they’re doing. I need to hang up and grab my gun now.”

I shoved the phone into the console. Now what? My gun was in the purse, which had disappeared into the mass of branches and pine needles.

“My gun should still be down between the seat and the console. I have a holster built in.”

I started digging around, and sure enough, the gun I’d checked for him before was still there. I pulled it out carefully, checking the magazine one more time out of habit before I cocked it. Then I pulled myself up and tried looking out through the windshield.

More branches, everywhere.

That was a good thing, I realized. We had decent cover.

“Should I climb out my window, you think? Look around?”

“No,” Hunter muttered. “Just stay down in the footwell. Our best bet is to hide and wait for the cavalry.”

“I’m a good shot,” I told him, refusing to acknowledge the panic I felt welling up into the back of my throat. Calm down, I told myself firmly. You can lose it later, once we’re safe.

“It’s dark, there’s freezing rain, and all you have is a handgun,” Hunter replied, his voice dry. “Nobody’s a good shot under those conditions. Just stay low, sweetheart. I’m gonna try and get loose, but I’m thinkin’ they’ll have to cut me out of this one. If I die in this truck, don’t tell Skid I got my ass kicked by a tree, okay?”

I snorted, then giggled. Obviously he’d lost his mind. I tried to stay quiet but another giggle broke free. Then Hunter stuck out his tongue at me, and I laughed out loud, tears rolling down my face.

“You’re crazy,” I said, wiping my face with the back of my hand.

“Maybe,” he said, giving me his crooked smile. “But nothing burns off tension like a laugh. You think you can reach my seat belt?”

I leaned out of the footwell and dug around through the pine needles, ducking my head down to get a better look. In that instant, a bullet punched through the windshield into the passenger seat, passing through right where I’d been just seconds before.

I froze.

“Goddammit,” Hunter said, suddenly thrashing to get free. “Holy fuck, I cannot believe this.”

I fumbled for his seat belt urgently. Crap. CRAP. Just because I knew how to shoot a gun didn’t mean I was ready for a fucking firefight. Another shot tore through the glass, this time closer to Hunter’s head. So much for all that cover … Or were they just shooting randomly? I couldn’t figure out how they could possibly see us.

“Back in the footwell,” Hunter ordered, and his voice didn’t leave any room for negotiation. “Keep the gun handy. I don’t know if you’ll get a chance to shoot, but if you do, I want you ready.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, a sniper’s not gonna come in close unless he has to,” Hunter said. “Which means ideally—from his perspective—you’re dead without ever making eye contact. Right now this one doesn’t have a clear target, so that’s in our favor. We just need to hold on for a couple minutes, until the Reapers get here.”

Another bullet came through, winging Hunter’s ear.

“Fuck,” he muttered as blood started pouring out.

I gave a sobbing gasp.

“Emmy, you have to hold your shit together,” he said, his voice sharp. “I love you, babe. I can’t hide or defend myself, so I need you safe in that footwell. Then if he hits me you’re alive to save me. Hold your shit together for me, sweetheart. I need you to hold it together.”

I took a deep breath and nodded, although I knew he was lying again. If the sniper hit him, it would be a headshot—Hunter wouldn’t have a chance. He was just trying to protect me. Ridiculous. Like a footwell would stop a bullet, anyway? I racked my brain, trying to think of some way to protect us.

This was insane—I had to do something or we’d die out here. I looked up through the rain at the open passenger window. We needed a distraction. I eased out of my hidey-hole.

“Stay down, Em,” Hunter said, his voice cracking like a whip. I ignored him, checking the gun to make sure it was ready. All good. I slid into position expecting another shot to hit any second, crouching with one foot on the side of Hunter’s seat and the other on the inside wall of the well. I counted to three, then popped up and shot four times into the darkness.

I dropped back down, gasping.

Hunter blew up.

“What the fuck was that about?”

“I want him to know we’re armed,” I said. “Playing possum only works if they don’t know what they’re doing. I’ll bet a hundred dollars his orders are to make damned sure we’re dead, and I’m not just going to sit and wait for some asshole to put a bullet in my brain.”

“He could’ve shot you, Em.”

I stared at him, trying not to let out the hysterical laughter I felt bubbling up deep inside.

“Seriously, babe? That’s your argument? That’s a fucking bullet hole about an inch from your face, and let’s not mention the ear. Getting shot is almost a given at this point, more of a when than an if. We need to hold out for Dad, and now that our sniper knows we can fight back, he’ll have to be more cautious about approaching the truck. That’ll slow him down, which might make the difference for us.”

“So your solution is to play Whac-a-Mole with a murderer?”

“Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s done.”

“Fuck, but you piss me off,” he muttered. His body twisted, and then he kicked out, hard. “Fuck!”

Long seconds passed, and I started shivering as the icy rain soaked my shirt. Maybe I should shut the window? No … At least this way maybe we’d hear something if they got too close.

Hunter kicked the truck again, rocking it slightly.

“Well, let’s look on the bright side,” I said, deciding he needed a distraction.

“Don’t.”

“The good news is that we’ll probably be either rescued or dead before we have to worry about serious hypothermia. There’s always a silver lining, Hunter.”

He growled at me again.

Men.

Chapter Eighteen

HUNTER

I don’t think I’ve ever been so pissed off in my life.

Em frustrated me so much I wanted to strangle her, maybe save our sniper the trouble. I was angry with myself, too, because I should’ve been able to control the fucking truck. Now instead of protecting my woman, I was stuck watching her crouch over me with a gun, ice building up in her hair as her lips turned blue.

All because I’d been captured by a fucking tree.

Another shot rang out, although this time it didn’t hit the truck. At least that was something … Although if I died tonight without protecting her, I hoped to hell I’d find a way to come back and haunt Picnic Hayes. I’d use my ghostly powers to make him desecrate my useless fucking corpse.

More shots. Then shouting.

“Em!” I heard someone yell. She rose slightly.

“No,” I said, voice cracking. “Stay down until they find the shooter. Just call out. Let them know we’re okay, but under fire. Safer that way.”

“We’re safe!” she bellowed, so loud it hurt my ears. “The sniper hit the truck at least three times, so be really fucking careful. Also, I have a gun. Identify yourselves before coming too close, or I’ll shoot you myself.”

“Hang tight, kiddo,” I heard a deep voice yell back. “We’re comin’ for you.”

He sounded familiar … Then I placed him. Duck. Old guy I’d met when I negotiated with the Reapers for Em’s release.

“Do you think they’ll be able to find him?” Em asked. Her teeth started chattering. Shit, at least I had my pine needle blanket …

“No idea,” I told her. “If he’s smart, he’s already taken off. He could stay out there and try picking them off, but weather like this sucks for everyone.”

Then I noticed her hands had started trembling. From the cold or adrenaline—didn’t matter which.

“I think you should set down the gun.”

“Nope.”

“Don’t shoot me by accident, please.”

Em looked down and smiled, still gorgeous despite the icicles building up in her hair. In the faint light from the dashboard, I could see that her lips were blue, her nose was red, and her shirt was soaked through. Not the best time for a wet T-shirt contest, but her tits looked outstanding.

“I promise,” she said softly, biting her lip. “I will never shoot you by accident.”

I considered her response.

“That’s less comforting than you’d think.”

Several more shots rang out, and then we heard a high-pitched, agonized scream.

“Holy shit,” Em whispered, smile gone. Her eyes were huge, and she brought the gun back up, finger moving to the trigger. Then someone shouted through the darkness. Someone close.

“Em, it’s Painter.”

Seriously? Fucking Painter was going to rescue us?

And right there I had it—proof that God’s a twisty bastard.

“Did you get him?” Em yelled back.

“We got one of them,” Painter said. “No way to know if there’s more. But we’re searching. Prez says to get you out, take you back to the Armory while we look for a second sniper.”

“We’re going to need a chainsaw or something,” she yelled. “Hunter’s trapped.”

“He alive?”

He sounded a little too cheerful when he asked the question.

“Yes, he’s fine,” she replied.

“I’m fuckin’ great,” I yelled out. “Get Em out of here!”

“Okay, I’m right by the truck now,” Painter called back. “I’m gonna climb up and look inside. Put down your gun, Em.”

Em lowered the gun, but I noticed she didn’t let it go. She gave me a quick glance, offering a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“What’s that about?” I asked quietly.

“Painter isn’t my dad,” she replied. “He hasn’t made any promises about your safety.”

“You’re going to hold a gun on Painter while he’s trying to rescue you?”

“No, I’m going to protect my old man while he’s stuck under a tree. Consider me your life insurance, babe. If I leave, Painter’s got no reason to keep you alive and nobody to witness what he does to you. I’m staying put until my dad gets here.”

The truck lurched and Painter leaned over the open passenger-side window, taking in the situation. First he gave Em a quick once-over, probably checking for blood or obvious wounds. Then his gaze turned to me, eyes predatory. I stared him down, wordlessly telling him that I saw right through his shit. He gave me a chin lift, then turned his attention back to Em.

“Take my hand,” Painter said, reaching toward her. “We’ll get you to the Armory. Ruger can go back and grab the tools we’ll need to cut out your boyfriend, but you need to get warm.”

She shook her head.

“I want Dad.”

“He’s kind of busy right now.”

“Nope,” she said, lifting the gun from her side and balancing it carefully on her knee with both hands. She wasn’t pointing it at anyone, but it wasn’t the friendliest of stances, either. “I’m staying with my old man until Dad gets here.”

Painter flinched. Heh.

I hated that cocksucker. I really did.

“Will you please go get him?” Em asked, her voice like very polite granite. She might be scared as hell, but she wasn’t showing any weakness. “I’m not going anywhere without my dad.”

“Screw this,” Painter muttered, shaking his head. “I’ll be back in a few. Enjoy the fuckin’ cold while you wait, Em.”

She relaxed visibly as he jumped down off the truck.

“You okay?” I asked. “I really wish you’d go with him.”

Em rolled her eyes, waving off my concern with one bluish hand.

“No fucking way,” she said. “I leave, you got no witnesses. Painter hates you. Ruger’s not too fond of you, either, and he’s the one with the chainsaw. Anyone decides to kill you, they’ll be going through me first.”

“Babe, I say this with all due respect. You scare the shit out of me.”

She reached down and touched my cheek, and I turned my head to kiss her fingers.

“Emmy, it’s Dad,” I heard Hayes call out. Then I felt the truck shift as he climbed up to look through the window. “Painter said you won’t put down your gun and go to the Armory.”

“Thank God,” she said, her voice full of relief. She’d been closer to the edge than I realized. “I’m so glad you’re here. I won’t leave Hunter with anyone but you. But I’m really cold … Not sure how much longer I can last out here.”

I couldn’t see his face well in the darkness, but I had a feeling I’d recognize the expression—the same mixture of love and frustration I’d seen in the mirror a hundred times since I’d met her.

“Emmy, nobody is going to hurt Hunter,” the Reapers president said. “I gave my word.”

“Would Mom have left you behind?” she asked, her voice a challenge.

He sighed heavily, then reached down to take her hand.

“Nope,” he said. “That’s why I wanted you with a Reaper, honey. We really can’t afford not to have you on our side. You remind me more of her every day.”

EM

It felt good to be back in the Armory again. Better than I expected. Of course, it probably didn’t hurt that I’d been met at the door by Dancer, Marie, Kit, and Maggs. Sophie was upstairs with the kids, who were constructing a mighty campsite in the game room on the second floor.

Horse had given me a ride home, stepping inside long enough to catch Marie and stick his cold hands on her stomach. She’d shrieked and swatted at him until he caught her close for a long, hard kiss. Then he’d headed back out into the rain, leaving me dripping in the center of the kitchen. Dancer wrapped a blanket around me, and Marie handed me a cup of hot coffee. I found myself shivering so hard my jaw hurt.

“So what the hell happened?” Dancer asked, settling me on a stool. “The guys ran out of here like the world was ending.”

“Someone shot out our tires,” I told her. Wow, saying it out loud made it sound so … insane. “Hunter was driving, and the truck started sliding on the ice. We went off the road. A tree pinned him inside the truck—he’s still there—and I called for help. That’s when whoever shot the tires started shooting at us.”

The women all stared at me, eyes wide.

“That’s some serious shit,” Kit said slowly. “But you’re okay? And Hunter, too?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, but they’ll have to cut him out.”

Kit tapped her fingers against the counter nervously.

“Did you know a Devil’s Jack has been seen around town?” she asked. “And I guess they spotted him earlier tonight, right after someone took potshots at Dancer and Bam Bam’s house.”

My eyes widened.

“They shot at your house?” I asked Dancer, stunned. “With the kids there?”

“Yes,” Dancer said, her face more serious than I’d ever seen it. “Em, I love you, but I don’t understand how you could be with a man who’s part of that club.”

I stiffened.

“The man who shot at your house wasn’t a Devil’s Jack,” I said firmly. “Hunter told me he wasn’t. He says that someone else is trying to set us all up for a war. They want peace—they need peace, or their club won’t survive.”

The women exchanged looks, and Marie coughed nervously. Great. Now they all thought I was a gullible idiot.

“Anyone want a drink?” Maggs asked brightly. “I could use a shot.”

“Grab the bottle,” Kit said, reaching out to take my hand. I tugged it away from her, frustrated.

“Just don’t make any judgments until we have the full story,” I told them. “You don’t know what happened out there. Remember, the sniper tried to kill Hunter, too.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Marie said. “It’s good to have you back, Em. The good news is we all brought food with us—whatever else happens, we can celebrate the holiday together instead of just canceling everything.”

Perfect, I thought. Just what I needed. Now everyone could spend tomorrow glaring at me and Hunter, blaming him for everything that’d gone wrong for the Reapers during the last twenty years. And with his truck all busted up, it wasn’t like we could leave. Maybe I could rent a car …

“Drink?” Maggs asked again, her tone forced. I shook my head. I already had a headache. The last thing I needed was to throw a hangover into the mix.

Grown-up life was complicated.

HUNTER

By the time they pulled me out of the truck, my nuts were the size of raisins. Fuckin’ cold out there. Despite that, I remembered to grab our bags from behind the truck’s seats. I also grabbed my Devil’s Jacks cut, folding it carefully over my arm before climbing up the bank. Hayes had an SUV waiting for me. At least, I hoped the SUV was for me. A black cargo van had been parked there, too, reminding me of the one we’d used to kidnap Em and Sophie.

Not the most encouraging of sights.

When I reached the top, I found Hayes. He eyed my colors but didn’t say anything. He also didn’t tell me which vehicle would be carrying me to the Armory. I knew he’d promised Em that he’d keep me alive, but it seemed likely that my comfort wasn’t part of the deal.

“You catch the shooter?” I asked him.

“Shooter’s in the van,” he said. “But you’ll ride with me. C’mon.”

I followed him to the SUV—score one for me. Hopefully it was a good sign. Horse and Painter joined us in the backseat. Nobody spoke to me on the short, tense drive to the Armory, which was just fine. The night was far from over, but I’d had plenty of time in the truck to consider my strategy. I’d been in situations like this before, although usually on the other side. I knew better than to show weakness or volunteer information.

On the bright side, at least I wouldn’t have to waste any time looking for the asshole pretending to be one of my brothers. He was in the van, I was almost certain of it. Smart money said once they took him into the Armory, he wouldn’t be coming back out, which saved me even more time.

We passed through a gate in the building’s courtyard wall. Em was somewhere inside, hopefully snug and warm, surrounded by her girls. Just the thought of her exposed in that truck, the way those shots had blasted through the windshield, chilled my blood.

This love shit sucked.

Now it wasn’t enough I had to watch out for Kelsey, I had to keep Em covered, too. This was why I’d never had pets. Too much work. Hayes stopped the rig, turning it off and looking at me.

“Come inside?” he asked, as if I had a choice.

“Sounds good,” I replied, opening my door. I stepped out to find us parked next to a sunken stairwell leading under the building.

Nothing ominous about that, right?

They’d packed our bags away in the back of the vehicle, which meant I didn’t have access to my spare sidearm. At least they hadn’t searched me. I considered that a good sign, seeing as the hunting knife on my hip wasn’t exactly subtle.

I guess technically I was still a guest.

Hayes started walking toward the stairwell, but I paused to pull on my cut. Painter stopped cold, glancing back and forth between me and his president.

“You aren’t letting him wear his colors inside, are you?” he demanded. Christ, this guy was a drama queen.

“You’ll get them off my dead body,” I told him, my voice matter-of-fact.

At least five or six Reapers gathered to watch as Painter and I faced off. I unstrapped my knife, wrapping my fingers around the hilt loosely. Shitty way to go out, but with any luck I’d take the asshole with me. Then Picnic stepped in.

“We still have a truce, brother,” he announced. “At least until we prove they’re behind the attack. I don’t know if you got a close look at the cut our sniper friend was wearing, but it didn’t look quite right to me. Until we know better, Hunter is a guest of the club paying us a friendly visit.”

Yeah, ’cause all friendly visits happen in darkened basements.

Still, the look of frustration on Painter’s face was nice. I winked at him, then followed Em’s dad down the stairs. He unlocked the metal door, which scraped open onto a barren concrete hallway lighted by naked bulbs screwed into the ceiling.

“Nice place,” I murmured, and Picnic snorted back a laugh.

“We try,” he said. “I’ve got a room here that’ll work for you to wait in.”

He unlocked one of the doors lining the hallway. I peeked in. Room, my ass. This was a straight-up prison cell. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Thought I was a guest?”

“We’ll leave the door open, don’t worry,” he said, smiling pleasantly. “And I wouldn’t want you getting bored, so I asked Horse to keep you company.”

Horse. Could be worse, I decided. I’d met the man several times in the past few months. Seemed to be a straight shooter. Thorough, too. There’d been an incident with one of our guys back in Seattle around the end of August. Fucker was out bad and on the run. When Horse and Ruger came across him, they’d been sweet enough to call us for a pickup. They’d even wrapped him up as pretty as a Christmas present, all ready for delivery back to his old chapter.

The big Reaper stepped forward, offering me a cold smile.

“Why don’t you fill me in on what’s been happening in Portland while we wait?” he said. “I always love catching up on gossip.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” I told him, resisting the urge to flip him off. He gestured toward the room graciously enough, so I walked in, flopping down on the low cot. I might not have any serious injuries from the accident, but I figured I’d be plenty sore in the morning, assuming I lived that long. Might as well make myself comfortable for now. Horse followed me in, carrying a rusted metal chair from the hallway. He set it down facing away from me, then straddled it, leaning forward against the backrest.

“So what’s your story?” he asked. “I hear rumors about you and Em. You know she’s like a little sister to all of us. I’m real protective of my sisters.”

“Yeah, I’ve gotten that vibe from several of your brothers,” I said, folding my arms behind my head. “She tells me Daddy doesn’t like it when she and Kit bring home their boyfriends.”

“You could say that.”

“Well, I’m not her boyfriend. I’m her old man and I’m not gonna let anyone get between us. You could get around that by killing me, but until then, consider Em taken. How’s that for gossip from Portland?”

He raised a brow and nodded thoughtfully.

“To be honest, it’s more interesting than what we usually hear from Deke,” he said. “He likes to talk about pesky little Devil’s Jacks moving in like they have a right to exist on our territory.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of this?” I asked, considering how many different versions of this conversation I’d heard over the years. “You insult the Jacks, we insult the Reapers, someone gets shot and then we all pout for the next decade?”

I’d caught him off guard, and he laughed.

“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but I kind of like you. Hope I don’t have to bury your body tomorrow.”

“Well, I have to admit,” I said, sitting up and leaning forward on my knees. “I’m kinda hoping you don’t have to bury my body tomorrow, too.”

A scream cut the air, and Horse cocked his head.

“Think that might be your club brother,” he said, studying my reaction.

I shook my head.

“Not one of ours,” I said flatly. “Let me lay it out for you … If that was my brother, I’d be fighting for him right now. I’d rather die than let a Reaper torture a Jack. But him? That’s the cocksucker who tried to kill my woman. One of his bullets missed her head by a couple of inches at most. Hell, he grazed my ear. The only problem I’ve got with this situation is I’m in the wrong room. I should be in there with him, making sure your boys don’t kill him too fast.”

Another scream wailed out.

“Mind if I take a nap?” I asked, catching and holding Horse’s gaze. “Sounds like it could take a while.”

Horse laughed again.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

Chapter Nineteen

I actually managed to drift off for a while, which says something about how tired I was. I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me so much—I hadn’t gotten much rest the night before, most of which I’d spent in Em’s driveway. I woke up when someone kicked the cot, instantly alert. Horse stood at the foot of the bed.

“Apparently our friend has finally decided to talk,” he said. “Oh, and good news. He’s not a Devil’s Jack.”

“No shit,” I muttered, rubbing my face. Felt like a cheese grater. When was the last time I shaved? “I told you he wasn’t.”

“Glad it was the truth. Get up, Pic wants you in on the interrogation. Says you need to hear what this asshole has been saying. Some pretty serious shit coming to light.”

I followed Horse into a room significantly larger than the one we’d just left. A hint of bleach hung in the air, along with the acrid scent of urine mixed with the copper of blood. Work lights hung from the ceiling from extension cords, and the floor sloped downward toward a drain in the center.

Convenient.

Right over the drain sat a bloodied, dark-haired man in a metal chair, arms and legs tied down tight. His face was a mass of bruised flesh, eyes swelling shut, and his lips were both split wide open. His shoes were off, showing the smashed remains of his toes. Blood dripped from his fingernails, too—or rather, from where his fingernails used to be.

Someone had had a long night.

“This our guy?” I asked, taking a quick glance around. The room held Ruger, Duck, Horse, and three men I didn’t recognize. One seemed to be the designated bad guy, because blood still covered his hands. I shot a quick look at his name patch. Bam Bam.

Picnic came over to stand next to me, his face grim.

“Yup,” he said. “He’s not one of yours.”

It took everything I had not to roll my eyes.

“Yeah, we covered that before,” I said politely. “So whose is he?”

“Cartel,” Pic replied. “Of course, this one’s not important or valuable. They sent him up here to parade around in fake colors, set things up. Cut’s over there, you can take a look in a few … But that’s not the interesting part.”

I cocked a brow in question. I found someone wearing fake Devil’s Jacks colors pretty damned interesting.

Pic walked over to the chair and kicked it. The man moaned.

“Tell my friend here what you just told me,” he ordered.

The man lifted his head, although I had no idea if he could see me through the swelling.

“I’m just a halcone,” he whispered, his English faintly accented. Mexican, I figured. Of course, not a huge leap, given where the cartel was headquartered. Men like this—poor and desperate—made up most of their cannon fodder.

“I follow orders. They told me to go with some gringo boss, come up north. Wear that vest, go to bars, talk to people. Do whatever the boss says. Tonight he said to shoot at people, so that’s what we did.”

“We?” I asked.

“Soldier,” he muttered, his words slurred. “Called himself Sam, don’t know who he really is. He came with the boss, maybe.”

“White?”

“Sí. American.”

“Who was shooting at the truck?”

“Sam shot the tires,” he said. “Then he told me to kill the people in the truck and he disappeared. I don’t know where he went.”

“Do you know anything about the other shootings?”

“I was down south until last week, when they sent me here,” he said. “Nothing to do with any of this. Are you going to kill me?”

I glanced at Picnic. His face was blank.

“Burke will want to talk to him, if you’re willing,” I said. “This isn’t just about your club—the Jacks need all the information we can get, too.”

“Holding him for a couple days is no problem,” Ruger said. He pinned me with a hard stare. “We have plenty of room down here, could keep someone prisoner forever, if we wanted to.”

I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bloody pawn sitting in the chair.

“Take him out and get him cleaned up,” Picnic said to Horse. The big man stepped forward, nodding to one of the others I didn’t know. Together they lifted the man—chair and all—and carried him out of the room. I looked down at the blood on the concrete, considering my own situation.

Fuck it. Now was as good a time as any to play this through.

“I’d appreciate it if you could give Burke a call,” I said to Picnic. “I’m fresh out of phones.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said. He turned to leave, but I caught his arm. Ruger stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. Yeah, I get it. You’re gonna protect the prez, kill me with your bare hands, et cetera … So fucking predictable.

“We need to talk,” I said. “Might as well get it over with. Can’t do it in front of Em.”

“No offense, but you’re not my favorite person,” Pic replied, narrowing his eyes. “Just because we called you in to witness for your club doesn’t mean I feel like chatting. Better be damned important.”

“I think it is. I figure you’ve spent a fair amount of time and energy considering different ways to kill me over the past couple months?”

Pic gave a harsh laugh, nodding.

“You would, too, in my shoes.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I said. “Here’s the thing … I don’t want to spend the next twenty years waiting for you to shoot me in the back. I love your daughter and I won’t give up on her, so if that’s a deal breaker, you should kill me now. Otherwise you need to back the fuck off me and my old lady.”

That caught his attention.

Picnic studied me. I waited for him to say something, but Ruger stepped forward, his face cold and tight.

“Let’s put him in the ground,” he said. “Sophie went through hell because of this asshole. I nearly lost her.”

I held Hayes’s eyes, ignoring the other man. This was about me and Pic, about determining—once and for all—whether he could tolerate me as Em’s man. I raised my hands, palms empty, and turned around so my back was to him.

“I’m ready,” I said. “Go ahead and do it. Good timing, too—you can say the cartel got me. She’ll never know the truth, and neither will my club.”

“Why?” Pic asked.

“Because she deserves a man with a future,” I said, stretching my neck to one side. Already getting sore from the accident. “I want that man to be me. I love her and I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe and happy. But I’m a realist, too. If the Reapers are determined to kill me, I’m dead already. Might take you a while to make your move, which means it’ll hurt her even more when it finally happens. I’d rather end it now than set her up for something worse down the line.”

They stayed silent behind me. I wasn’t stupid—the timing wasn’t perfect. A smarter man wouldn’t have pushed, but if Pic planned to do it, he might as well get it over with. We needed to get out from under this shadow or it would eat us alive.

“I should shoot you,” Pic said slowly. “Because you know what? I think you’re gonna hurt her. You won’t mean to do it, but it’ll happen and then I’ll have to pick up the pieces.”

That wasn’t promising. I braced myself, waiting for a bullet. Would he do it fast, or drag it out?

“Turn around.”

I swiveled to find him closing in on me, fists clenched. I tried to force myself to relax as the first punch caught my face, to roll with it. Pain exploded through me, radiating out from my cheekbone. A second hit came from another direction, and I realized Ruger had joined in on the action.

Just what I needed …

I lost all sense of time after that. At some point I fell to the ground, which made it easier for them to kick me. I handled it pretty well, I think, considering my entire body had turned into one great raging wave of agonized torture. I managed not to scream, although I couldn’t stop myself from moaning when someone got in a particularly good shot. By this point I hurt so much I figured it couldn’t get much worse.

Then I felt a rib snap …

It was worse. Motherfucker.

“Enough,” I heard Hayes say, his voice sounding distant. Someone rolled me onto my back, and I squinted against the bright lights on the ceiling. Then a face looked down into mine.

My least favorite face on earth. Fucking Painter.

He was saying something, but I couldn’t quite make it out through the ringing in my ears. I shook my head, focusing my eyes on his lips. He said it again.

“Can I take his cut?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Did this man not learn? I rolled to the side, pushing up slowly with my arms until I was on my knees. I took a few seconds to recover, vaguely aware that more men had filtered into the room. They were talking but I couldn’t quite make out the words.

I pushed to my feet—swaying—every breath a slice of hell as my broken ribs shifted and grated in my chest. Painter stood right in front of me, smirking like a playground bully. I spat out a tooth and offered him a hate-filled smile.

Then I grabbed his shoulders and slammed my forehead into his nose.

He dropped like a stone, blood flowing freely. I swayed again, stepping back. It took everything I had to stay on my feet, although the beating I’d just had gave me a bit of an advantage. I already hurt so damned much that the pain in my forehead blended right in.

I took a deep breath and answered Painter’s question.

“I already told you. You’ll take my fucking cut off my dead body and you’ll leave my woman alone. Fuck with me again and I’ll put you in the ground.”

I staggered back, raising my head to find Picnic.

“We done here?” I asked, reaching up to test my ribs cautiously. Jesus, the pain was incredible. “Because this is your last shot. Kill me now or leave us alone.”

“We’ll put you and Em in a room upstairs,” Pic said, his face grim. “I don’t like it, but I’ll accept it. I can respect a man who’ll fight for my girl.”

He glanced down at Painter one more time, then turned and walked out of the room. I staggered after him, hoping to hell someone in this place had some fucking Vicodin.

“So what story do you want to tell Em?” Hayes asked as we walked slowly down the hallway. He didn’t push me, which I appreciated. Just staying upright was a goddamned miracle at this point.

“No story,” I said. “My balls are the one place that hasn’t been kicked tonight, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’ll tell her it’s business, so we can’t talk about it.”

“You’ve never been in a real relationship before, have you?” he asked. I shook my head. We stopped in front of the steps and I looked up. Fuck. I didn’t want to climb those.

“How did you know?” I asked him, pausing to catch my breath. He gave a sharp laugh.

“You’ll find out.”

EM

It was after two in the morning when Dad walked into the darkened kitchen. I’d been getting more and more nervous about Hunter’s safety, especially when I’d seen several of the guys going back and forth to the basement.

I wasn’t an idiot.

I knew what was down there—hell, Kit and I practically grew up in this building. There weren’t a lot of secrets left, although I’m sure my father was clueless about how much we’d seen and heard over the years.

Hours ago, I’d listened as the vehicles pulled into the courtyard, so I knew Hunter had to be down there with them. Horse even came in to tell us they’d found the shooter, and that we could stop worrying.

That scared me more, because if they’d found the shooter, why wasn’t Hunter back with me already? Around eleven, I considered a rescue mission, then decided the odds of that backfiring on Hunter were way too high. As much as I hated to admit it, interference from me wouldn’t help him. Not under these circumstances … It was one thing for me to protect him in the truck, when he’d been pinned down. But barging in on him now? That’d make him look weak in front of my dad and his brothers, and Hunter couldn’t afford to look weak.

I should’ve stayed in the pickup truck.

Now Dad stood in front of me, his face wearing an expression I couldn’t even begin to understand.

“Well?” I demanded. “Where is he? Is he all right?”

“Nice to see you, too, baby girl.”

“Hey, Em,” I heard Hunter say. He stepped out of the shadow of the stairwell, leaning against the door frame as if just standing was almost more than he could handle.

Holy shit.

I brought a hand to my mouth, horrified.

“What the hell happened to you?” I whispered, feeling tears building. I ran over to him, but when I tried to touch him, he flinched away.

“Sorry, babe,” he muttered. “Feeling a little low. Why don’t you grab some ice and maybe help me up to bed?”

“You can use the room on the second floor,” Dad said. “I’ll find some painkillers.”

I looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out if we’d somehow stumbled into an alternate universe where people showed up randomly beaten and nobody seemed to find it noteworthy.

“Do either of you want to tell me what the hell happened here? He wasn’t like this when I left him, Dad. I trusted you!”

My voice rose as I spoke, my hands fluttering. I felt like I should be doing something, but I had no idea what.

“Babe, you know I promised never to lie to you again, right?” Hunter said. I nodded, stunned by the damage to his face. It was all mottled and bruised. Blood dripped sluggishly out of his mouth, trailing down his chin. He held a hand to his ribs, and his breathing didn’t sound quite right to me. “Well, this is one of those times that I’m not gonna lie, which means no matter how much you ask, you won’t hear a story to make you feel better. You want the truth, you need to accept that. Just help me get clean and patched up, and let’s go to sleep.”

I glanced back over toward Dad. He was crouched down, digging in one of the cupboards. Then he pulled out a large first-aid kit.

“I’ll meet you upstairs,” he said. “There’s a bed waiting on the second floor, Hunter. They saved it for you. Bathroom across the hall has a shower. Just try to keep it quiet—don’t want to wake up all the kids. I guess they’re camped out in the game room, which is just down from where you’ll be staying.”

“Thanks,” Hunter said. “Appreciate the hospitality.”

“Am I the only one who’s not crazy here?” I demanded suddenly. “What is wrong with you? What did you do to Hunter?”

They exchanged glances, and Picnic shrugged.

“I’m starting to get what you meant earlier,” Hunter murmured to him. “I’m not used to this.”

“Used to what? Having the only not-insane person in the room demand answers from you?”

“Having someone care this much about me,” he said quietly. “Em, I really, really love you. I think I’ve finally convinced your dad of that. Whatever you’re imagining this is”—he gestured down at himself—“you’re wrong. But believe me when I say I can’t explain it. Just know it all ended right, the good guys won, and I really fucking want to crawl into bed with you and sleep. Pic, you got any Vicodin?”

My dad nodded, then stepped out of the room.

“You’re really not going to tell me?”

“Nope,” he said. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me when I say it was necessary, and you don’t need to worry about it happening again. And Em?”

“Yes?” I whispered.

“I didn’t lie to you. Remember that. I could’ve told you all kinds of stories to explain this, but I didn’t. Would’ve made my life a lot easier. I hope that means something to you.”

I shivered, trying to process his words. Nothing made sense.

“Baby, can we please go upstairs?” he asked quietly. “I can see you have lots to think about, but I’m not sure I can stay upright much longer.”

I nodded, forcing myself to snap out of my fog.

“This isn’t over,” I told him. “But let’s take care of you first. I think you need the ER. If Dad won’t loan me his car, I’ll borrow Kit’s.”

“There’s an inch of ice covering the road,” he said, and I think he smiled, or at least tried to. Hard to tell under the circumstances. “We already crashed once tonight. I’ll be fine—this isn’t the first beating I’ve taken, and it’s not like they’d do much for me anyway. Tape up my ribs, maybe give me a few stitches. Painkillers. We can do all that here, although I think I’ll take a pass on the stitches. I could use a few more scars, it’ll enhance my reputation with the brothers. They’re always sayin’ I’m too pretty.”

This time I knew he was smiling.

“You’re insane,” I said, shaking my head. “What if you have a head injury or something?”

He sobered.

“It’s not worth the risk to go back out, babe. There was at least one shooter we didn’t find tonight.”

I froze.

“Horse said we didn’t need to worry anymore.”

“Well, that was probably before we had all the details,” Hunter said, sighing. “Thought it was one guy at first. I’m sure they’ll gather everyone tomorrow and fill them in on what they need to know. I’ll even bet the second guy disappears after this—they weren’t after us in particular, just trying to stir up shit between the clubs. But we have proof now that the cartel was behind this attack, which should be enough to convince the Reapers and the Jacks that we have to work together. Tonight backfired on them in a big way.”

“Damn,” I whispered. “I guess that’s something. But I get your point. Between the ice and the cartel, I guess staying put is smarter. I suppose we should go upstairs?”

“What a great idea. Wish I’d thought of that,” he murmured, although I thought I caught a hint of humor in his eyes. Maybe. Like I said, hard to tell with all the swelling. I took his arm and led him carefully across the room, through the fire door, and into the main stairwell.

“You want to wait for my dad to give you a hand?” I asked, considering the climb ahead of us. I could steady him, but that was about it.

“No,” Hunter said, his voice wry. “I’d just as soon not get any more help from your father. I’ve had about as much as I can handle.”

An hour later I crept downstairs. Hunter was out and I doubted anything short of the zombie apocalypse would wake him up. I knew I’d find Dad in the Armory office. He had a couch in there, and with so many people sleeping over, he wouldn’t take up a bed some kid could be using.

I knocked on the door softly, not wanting to wake up whoever else might be camped out nearby.

“Give me a minute,” Dad said, and I heard him moving around. Then the door opened and he looked down at me.

I didn’t smile.

“I need to talk to you.”

He sighed. “Come on in.”

I pushed through as he turned on a lamp, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it. He sat back on the couch. We stared at each other for long seconds.

“I really miss your mom,” he said finally. “She knew how to handle you girls. I never figured it out.”

The words caught me off guard and I felt the sudden prickle of tears. I shoved them back ruthlessly.

“This isn’t about Mom. It’s about us.”

“What happened between me and Hunter is none of your business. You know that. It’s not your problem and you shouldn’t be worrying about it.”

I shook my head slowly, wondering if he’d ever get it.

“No, Dad. It’s definitely my problem when the man I love gets beaten half to death because my father hates the idea of me growing up.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but I held up a hand, cutting him off. His eyes widened.

“I understand club business,” I continued. “I get that you’re the president and we all have to do what you say. I’ve never disrespected you in front of your brothers. But this isn’t about the club, it’s about our family and you need to listen up, because I am not fucking around right now. If you ever touch my man again, you’re dead to me. Dead. I won’t talk to you, I won’t look at you, and I sure as shit won’t let you see any grandchildren down the road. We clear?”

He sighed again.

“We’re clear.”

I turned to leave, but he stood up and caught me, tugging me into a hug. I held out for a second, then let the familiar sense of safety and belonging I felt in his arms surround me.

“I’ll always be your father,” he said quietly, resting his chin on my head. “Me and Hunter, we worked things out. He understands me and I think I’m startin’ to understand him. But no matter how much you love him or where you end up, you’ll never stop being my little girl. I love you, Em.”

This time I let the tears come.

“I love you, too, Daddy.”

A moment later I pulled away and looked up, studying his face.

“I need to get back to Hunter now.”

He nodded at me, running a hand through his hair, looking almost wistful.

“I know, baby. Go take care of him.”

Thanksgiving morning dawned bright and sunny.

I woke up and crawled out of bed carefully, trying not to jostle Hunter too much.

Walking over to the window, I peered out to find everything covered in a thick layer of ice. And I mean everything. Cars, evergreens, the power lines. Yikes. Those cables looked about ready to collapse. As far as I could see, ice caught the sunlight and reflected it like millions of tiny prisms. Almost like we’d gone to bed on earth and woken up in a fairy tale.

Of course, there was one big downside to the whole frozen wonderland thing … No fucking way we’d be able to leave today, which meant Hunter and I would be stuck sharing our first holiday together with my entire Reaper family. On the bright side, only about half of them wanted him dead. Unfortunately, several of those who did would be cooking today, so I figured I should taste anything they offered him before letting him touch it.

Maybe we should just do Christmas in Portland …

I heard a noise from the bed. Hunter looked much, much worse today. His bruises had ripened and his face made me think of a smashed tomato. Make that a smashed tomato with eyes.

“Come back to bed,” he muttered. “And bring the drugs with you. I feel like shit.”

I walked back over and found the bottle, carefully spilling out a couple pills into my hand. Hunter managed to pull himself up long enough to swallow them, with the help of some water. Then he lowered his head painfully back into the pillow, clearly spent from even that small effort.

I settled on the bed next to him.

“I’ve been thinking things over,” I said quietly. “And I want you to know how much I appreciate the fact that you didn’t lie to me. I also realize you’re not going to tell me anything, and I know why. He did this to you because we’re sleeping together, although the kidnapping thing probably didn’t help, either. And I’m sure you just stood there and took it because of some kind of macho, bullshit pact you made with him.”

Hunter closed his eyes.

“I’m too tired for this, babe. You need to let it go. We’ll have a nice holiday dinner together and then tomorrow we’ll get the truck situation figured out. It’s all good.”

I crawled under the covers, leaning up on my elbow to study his pulped face.

“Promise me it’s over.”

“What’s over?” he asked, his voice sleepy.

“Your shit with my dad. Or do we have to go out and buy him a herd of goats, too?”

“Naw,” he whispered. “Pic said kegs were just as good. He’s a practical man.”

“You’re going to drive me crazy. This isn’t okay.”

“I know. Love you, babe.”

“Love you, too.”

“Can we please go back to sleep now?”

I snorted, then rolled onto my back.

“Sure, why the hell not,” I said. “Not like we can have sex, which sucks for you. I’ve been studying that book. Did you know there’s a whole chapter on erotic massage? Apparently a man’s penile tissues actually extend way down into the scrotum, and if you press gently—”

“Em?”

“Yes?” I asked innocently.

“You’re an evil, evil woman.”

I smiled, savoring my small victory. Then I decided I might as well go back to sleep—I’d need my strength to make it through the afternoon. Knowing my luck, Uncle Duck would decide to tell Hunter the story about when I’d been six years old and sang “Jingle Bells, Batman Smells” in a surprise solo at the school holiday program.

Uggh.

We were definitely spending Christmas in Portland.