Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Maggie—
I stare at the ceiling, like it’ll give me answers to the million questions in my head.
Sully is here, in Durango of all places. And a member of a motorcycle club—and not just any old lightweight club. The Royal Bastards were about as badass as he could get.
When my brothers showed up in town last year, I was so pissed off. The last thing I wanted them to do was find me, but I knew right away what my mistake had been.
I’d broken down and called my father on his birthday last year.
I’d kept in touch with my girlfriend, Piper, and she’d let me know he wasn’t well. Her father had heard from the bartender down at Lucky’s that my father had contracted liver cancer.
When I called him, he denied it. Said he was fine, and those busybodies needed to mind their own business. We’d talked for half an hour. He asked where I was and if I was okay, but never once asked why I left.
He sounded tired, and I realized he really was sick.
I asked if he wanted me to come home, but he said that wasn’t necessary. The boys were taking good care of the place. I gave him my address in case of an emergency.
Two months later, my brothers showed up.
My father had died the month before. The house was mortgaged to the hilt, and the bank foreclosed.
With my father gone, business at the repair shop dried up, so they packed up and headed out here, having found my address in Daddy’s desk.
I wasn’t happy about it, but I’d adjusted. Just when I thought things were evening out in my life, in walks the one man I’ve never forgotten.
So many nights I lay awake, wondering where Sully was and if he was doing well. He ripped my heart out when he left. He didn’t just leave town. He left me.
I’d felt so abandoned. He’d been a lifeline for me, and it had taken years for me to get over losing him in my life. And now that he was here in Durango, my biggest fear was that he had the power to tear my heart out again.
When he didn’t speak a word to me today, it was like ripping open an old wound. Things between us felt so unfinished, but maybe that was just me. Maybe I’d been way more attached to him than he had been to me. After all, I’d been his friends’ pain-in-the-ass little sister for so long.
In truth, we really didn’t know each other anymore. He and I were completely different people now. And with him in a motorcycle club, it was obvious we had nothing in common anymore.
He surely wasn’t my knight in shining armor now. With that cut on his back, he was about as far from it as he could get.
A thump has me lifting my head off the pillow.
I lived in the apartment over the bar. It wasn’t ideal, but it was convenient, and it was a free place to live that was included in the sale.
In the years I’d been here, I’d never not felt safe, but the robbery had changed all that. Now I gave some thought to getting a dog—maybe a big German Shepard. Or maybe I should seriously consider getting a gun.
When no other sounds carry to me, I relax back.
This wasn’t a bad side of town—the exact opposite, in fact. But it was a touristy area with several bars and restaurants that kept the crowds around until late into the night, especially when the local college was on spring break.
The only serious crime we had, other than the occasional bar fight, was vandalism. At least, that was until the ring of robberies started happening last summer.
I glance at the baseball bat I keep by the door.
Its effectiveness in the face of a shotgun was nil.
Dammit. I hate the fact that I now had to consider getting a gun. I hated guns. Why would I ever want to shoot one? But the helpless feeling I’d felt when those men had busted in made me rethink everything.
I couldn’t be a na?ve fool.
And I didn’t want to be weak.
Another sound carries to me. It sounds like a creaking, and it sounds like it came from downstairs. I glance at the clock. 1am.
There’s an interior staircase between the two levels, with a door at the top and at the bottom. At night, I kept both of them locked.
Still, there’s also a fire escape off the kitchen to the alley below. That door is locked, but there’s a window that could be broken into, and it always gave me an uneasy feeling.
I get out of bed and pad soundlessly to it now, inching the curtain back to peer out. I don’t see anything. No one on the fire escape and no cars in the alley below.
I hear another sound, get my bat, and creep down the stairs.
Maybe I’m an idiot, but I won’t get another wink of sleep until I know I’m being silly. Maybe it’s just the furnace or the pipes making noise. After all, the building is almost a hundred and fifty years old.
When I reach the bottom, I unlock the lower door and peer out.
Nothing. I slip through and peer toward the street into the main bar. Nothing.
A car drives past outside, and a group of people walk past, talking, looking for where they had parked their car.
I head to the back of the building, where the small kitchen is, and stop short when I pass the open door of the small office where I have a safe and a desk where I did the paperwork.
The light is on, and I hear another creak.
Lifting the bat, I edge around the doorframe.
A man sits at my desk.
I freeze in fear.
Sully sits at the desk as if he belongs there, fingers flipping through the leather-bound ledger I used to keep track of expenses.
A bottle of our top-shelf whiskey sits beside a half-full rocks glass.
“I wondered how long it’d take you,” he says, lifting his eyes from the book.
His voice is smooth and unhurried. The glint in his eyes is dangerous and misses nothing, shifting to the bat.
“Is that seriously all you have to defend yourself? A Louisville Slugger?” He tsks. “I’m gonna have to get you an upgrade.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“In Durango or in this office?” he counters, the corner of his mouth tugging upward.
“Both.”
“Funny. I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Sweetheart, that’s where you’re wrong.”
Everything in me stills. “How did you get in?”
“Rock has a key, remember?”
“What are you doing here?” I whisper.
“Looking over your books.”
I walk over and slam it shut. “No.”
“Not asking, Six.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Do you prefer Magpie?”
“Get out.”
“Can’t do that. By the way, looks like you don’t have the money to make your loan payment this month. That true?”
The gall of this man. After everything in our past, he’s questioning me about my loan. My grip tightens on the bat, the urge to swing it growing.
“It’s just club business, Six.”
“Really? Well, your club’s not keeping us safe. How can I repay the money? You’d think Rock would be concerned enough to protect his own interests if he gave a damn.”
“And that, sweetheart, is why I’m here.”
“Get out.”
He smirks, downing the drink and standing. “Rock asked me to look after the place.”
Coming to his full height, his body towers over mine.
He’s handsome in a way I’m sure makes women stop and take a long look. His jaw carries the shadow of a five o’clock stubble, and his molten caramel eyes glow with heat and an intensity that makes it impossible to look away.
In his leather cut, he exudes power and danger.
Since I was a teenager, I’d always been aware of him as a man, in a way that I shouldn’t have of my brothers’ older friend. I had so many fantasies about him. Back then, the five-year age difference between us felt huge. Now it means nothing.
He holds my gaze like he can read my mind, and every dirty thought in it.
With an easy movement, he takes the bat out of my hands, bringing his body close. I can smell the leather cut, and the soap he uses, and the scent that’s all his own. It’s an intoxicating combination.
I’m hyperaware of his presence.
Everything feminine inside me is drawn to his strength and the sense of danger he exudes, even though I know I should keep my distance.
The chemistry between us is undeniable and charges the air in the small room. Despite my better judgment, I find myself intrigued by the danger and mystery surrounding this man who now calls himself by another name.
He steps closer, and I retreat.
We play this game until he has me pressed against the wall.
My breathing accelerates, and my heart pounds in my chest.
Don’t let him see you’re afraid.
Am I afraid?
This is Sully. Surely, he’d never hurt me. Not the boy who held me when my mother died. But this man standing before me is so different from that boy.
He takes my chin in his hand and tilts my face up, bringing his mouth down on mine. The kiss is hot and wild, and everything I’d ever fantasized about. It makes me want more—more than I should ever want from a Royal Bastard.
When he breaks free, I gasp for air.
“You and I have some unfinished business, sweetness.”
“No, we don’t.” I can’t let him think I’m his for the taking.
Correction—I can’t be his for the taking.
“The heat in that kiss makes you a liar.”
“People say the Royal Bastards are dangerous. That makes you dangerous. I don’t want to believe that.”
“Then don’t.”
“Then don’t manhandle me like everything they say is true.”
“Don’t deny you’ve wanted that kiss for years. Since you were seventeen and Remy caught us.”
“You barely knew I existed.”
“I did that day. You think I didn’t notice when you suddenly weren’t the little flat-chested brat following us everywhere anymore? You think I didn’t notice the way you filled out? You think I didn’t notice the way the boys in the neighborhood suddenly took notice?”
“None of them were interested in me.”
“Don’t kid yourself. They weren’t interested because I beat the shit out of them if they even looked at you. I bloodied more than one nose keeping them away from you, Six.”
“Why?”
“Because they weren’t fit to touch you.”
“Is that the only reason?”
He lifts a brow and gives me a cocky grin. “Obviously not.”
“You never acted interested. Not until the very end, before you left town with your tail between your legs.”
“Is that what you think happened?”
“Isn’t it?”
He takes a step back. “Maybe you don’t deserve the truth.”
“Maybe you should get the hell out of my bar.”
“Rock’s a little concerned about his investment.” He retreats to the doorway. “I’ll be back.”
“I don’t need you to come back.”
He jerks his chin toward the ledger on the desk. “From what I can see, you’ll never get caught up, not without a sudden influx of cash. Got any ideas on how to pay the club?”
I bite my lip, considering whether to tell him. “One.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“None of your business.”
He arches a brow, and I cave.
“There’s a race coming up. It’s at the track outside of Denver. The payout is fifty grand.”
He huffs. “Fifty? There’s no way.”
“I saw the flyer.”
“Do you even have a bike anymore?”
“I have one.”
“You always were a natural, but when’s the last time you rode?”
My heart leaps at his praise. “I’d need to practice, I admit.”
“Six, it’s a crazy idea.”
My spine stiffens. “You don’t think I can do it?” Somehow his answer means everything. He may be the one man whose opinion matters most.
“I’m not saying that; it’s just you’d be going up against men who do that for a living, year-round.”
“But even if I could get third, the payout would be enough. I know it’ll take some luck, but I have to try.”
His hands hit his hips. “You got a trailer, entrance fees, a fucking team to crew for you?”
“Well, no. But I do have one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I may have a lead on the thieves you’re looking for,” I bluff. “Help me win the race, help me prepare, crew for me, and I’ll give you what I know.”
“Uh, no. You’ll tell me now.”
I fold my arms and lift my chin.
“Goddamn it, Six. They shot our VP. Rock wants their heads.” He flings an arm out, then drops it.
I stick my hand out. “Deal?”
He huffs, glaring.
My hand drops. “Oh, right. I can’t take your word, can I?”
He punches the door frame. It happens so fast I flinch, then lift my chin. I know he’d never touch me… at least, the man I used to know would never hurt me, but then, maybe he’s not that man anymore.
I arc a brow. “That make you feel better?”
He shakes his fist out. “No, but it keeps me from doing what I really want to do.”
The look in his eyes has me swallowing. “And what’s that?”
“Throwing you over my shoulder, swiping everything off that damn desk, and fucking your brains out on it.”
“That’s vivid.”
“Yup.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“Do we have a deal?” I repeat, because for once, I think I may have the upper hand.
“When is this race?”
“Six weeks.”
“Six weeks? You think that’s enough time for me to get you ready? Maybe I should just enter the damn race myself.”
“Too late. The trials are in three weeks, and I was the last entry they accepted. Field’s locked in.”
He stalks closer, and I retreat until he’s got me backed against the wall again. “You afraid of me, Six?”
“No.” My voice cracks, and he grins.
“Maybe you should be.” His eyes drop to my mouth, and his warm, calloused palm wraps around my neck. His touch is gentle, but I know if he were a different kind of man, he could squeeze the life out of me. I feel his thumb stroke my skin. “Your pulse is beating a mile a minute.”
“Sully—” I whisper, but he cuts me off, correcting me.
“Keno.”
I shake my head. “You’ll always be Sully to me.” He’s unsettling me, so I turn the tables. “Do you know I used to have a silly teenage daydream about you?”
“Yeah? What was it?”
“I used to wish I had one of those work shirts of yours with the name embroidered on the chest so I could wear it to bed.” My eyes drop to the leather cut he wears, and the patches sewn onto it.
I don’t know what any of them mean. The percent sign, the letters, BFFB, the word Nomad.
My fingertips trace over it, and his eyes drop to follow them. “What does that mean?”
“Means I don’t belong to any one chapter.”
“So, you’ve never put down roots? Never stayed in one place?”
“Never had a reason. Until now.”
My eyes flair. Is he talking about me?
“I used to have fantasies about you, too, Six. But you weren’t wearing my shirt in any of them.”
I swallow. Maybe I’m playing with fire.
His hold on me drops, and he steps back. “We’ll start practicing tomorrow. Be ready at eight.”
“Tomorrow?” Has he lost his mind?
“Be ready, Six, or I’ll come upstairs and drag you out of bed.” He moves to the back door, and when it opens, I spot the motorcycle parked under the fire escape. Hesitating, he turns back. “Don’t forget to lock up.”
When the roar of his Harley fades down the alley, I throw the locks and lean against the door, wondering if I know him at all.