Chapter 1
Chapter One
WILL
W hat the fuck is she doing here?
Even all the way across the busy bar. Even with patrons along the rail and filling the tables scattered between me and where she stands. Even from behind. I recognize her.
I would know that body any where. Have it memorized. Every single fucking inch of it.
And that clingy top and skin-tight jeans show it all off…
Thick thighs…
Flared hips…
That fucking ass my fingers still burn to touch…
Emilia bends over the old jukebox slightly, tapping her nails on the glass to the beat of the song playing over the speakers—utterly and completely oblivious to the fact that her life is in danger.
Fucking hell.
Just what I don’t need tonight—a distraction like her.
I down the rest of my bourbon and set the empty glass into the sink behind the bar, casually scanning the dimly lit space quickly. Taking stock of the situation without taking eyes off her for too long.
Things could go bad very fast, and she’s right at the center of it.
Just like she always seems to be.
Trouble.
She earned that name when we were kids, and she still wears it as a fucking badge of honor—instead of trying to stay out of it like I’ve begged her to for decades.
The way she’s swaying her hips as she examines the song choices I know she has memorized proves my point.
There’s only one reason Emilia Gates is here tonight—to cause me trouble.
Bloody fucking hell.
I slowly make my way from behind the bar, weaving through throngs of Saturday night drinkers who slap me on the shoulder or give me a nod of acknowledgment.
Though I try to appear casual in my approach, each step I take toward Emilia only further tenses every muscle in my body. My skin tightens over them, my veins throbbing, feeling too small to contain everything boiling inside me suddenly.
She has to go.
She can’t be here.
I fist my hands at my sides when I finally reach her to keep from immediately reaching out to wrap my arms around her like I have so many other times.
But that was before.
Before she hated me.
Before I hated her.
Before it all changed.
That rich, sweet scent of cinnamon and clove that always clings to her hits my lungs as I stop behind her swaying ass.
I swallow thickly, mustering every ounce of control I have to keep my cock from rising to attention when I need to be paying it to the bar and who might be walking through that door at any moment. “You can’t be here.”
Her slender shoulders tense under her black top, and Emilia slowly turns her head to the right, eying me through thick, dark, loose curls. “Says who?”
Fuck.
Please, not tonight, Em.
I don’t have time for a showdown with her.
Glancing toward the entrance, I take a step closer. “Em, please. You need to go .”
She casually returns to her perusal of the song offerings, drumming her long, red nails on the glass. “I don’t think so.”
Barely suppressing a growl, I shift forward until her ass almost brushes my crotch. “Don’t make me?—”
“What? Throw me out?” She releases a little laugh that goes straight between my legs to the very spot I’m trying to ignore. “The only person who loves me more than your mother is your father, and you answer to them when it comes to this place, no matter how much you like to pretend you own it. I’d love to see their reaction to you kicking me out when all I did was show up for a drink on a Saturday night.”
Fuck.
She isn’t wrong about Mom and Dad, and if they find out I kicked her out, they will have questions I can’t sufficiently answer right now.
I dip closer, keeping my focus on the door and trying to keep my tone level. “It isn’t a good idea for you to be here tonight.”
Emilia turns her head toward me again, and this close, those little flecks of gold swimming in her wide caramel-colored eyes that used to hold so much love and affection for me glint. But now, all I see is wrath.
Maybe rightfully so.
But that’s beside the point.
She can hate me all she wants for what I’ve done and for tossing her out tonight. It’s for her own good, if she’d only listen.
“Why?” One of her brunette brows rises slowly. “Because you can’t stand to have me here? Because you hate me so much that I can’t even set foot in the bar we all grew up in without it making you uncomfortable? ” She snorts. “Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, Will, but I don’t give a fuck if you want me here or not. I came to have a drink, and I’m staying.”
Like fucking hell she is…
I grab her upper arm, and she jerks to face me fully, trying to free herself from my grip. The front door opens, drawing my attention toward it, and a cold wind blows in with the three men who step inside.
My heart stops.
Shit.
It’s too late.
Emilia tugs on my tightening hold. “I told you never to touch me again, and I meant it.”
I dip my head until my lips brush her ear as hard, onyx eyes I never wanted to see her meet mine across the bar. “Listen carefully. I need you to play along and get the hell out of here at the first opportunity?—”
Her dark brows furrow as the fight drains from her almost instantly at my tone. “What?”
“Please, Em…” I try to keep the panic from my voice as the three new arrivals approach us, weaving through the busy weekend patrons packing Smitty’s. “Remember how your mom and dad met…”
“Will, what the fuck are you talking about?”
I drag her up against me and press my lips to hers before she can ask any more questions I can’t answer. She resists at first, her body and mouth stiff against mine, and I pull away before I have a chance to know if she would ever relax into it.
Probably not, given our history.
“Will…” Rocky’s onyx gaze sweeps over me, then lingers on Emilia in a way that makes me want to punch him in the fucking face more than I already do. “Just the man I’m looking for.”
I tighten my grip on her, pulling her to my side and wrapping my arm around her lower back to keep her there. She tries to shift away from me, but I hold her steady, hoping she’ll sense the danger the men in front of us pose and understand the cryptic warning I gave her. “I’ve been waiting for you. About time you showed up.”
He sneers. “Something… unexpected came up. But we handled it.”
Handled it.
The way he says the words sends a shiver through me that I try not to let him see.
His focus returns to Emilia. “And who is this?” A single black brow rises. “Your little blonde bitch know about this one? She’s quite a piece of ass, isn’t she?”
Emilia goes completely stiff against me.
I dig my fingers into her hip, hoping she won’t react—to either comment. There’s only one way to get Rocky to direct his attention where it belongs and away from her—give him a reason to be afraid of what will happen if he keeps focusing on her.
“This is Emilia. We’ve been off and on since we were kids, and we’re very much back on.”
The lie at the end rolls off my tongue easily, and Rocky smirks, leering at her in a way that makes my skin crawl, so I can only imagine how uncomfortable she must be.
Time for his warning.
“She’s Orion Gates’ daughter…”
Rocky’s eyes widen, as do those of the two fuckwits on either side of him. “Well, well, well, I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a pirate prince and a fucking pirate princess .”
Shit.
What the hell is he thinking saying that out loud?
I glare at him, scanning around in case anyone overheard. “Are you insane? Shut the fuck up .”
Apparently unconcerned about outing our parental history, he smirks and holds up his hands—as if he could ever look innocent.
“She’s just on her way out.” I turn Emilia in my hold and capture her face between my palms, forcing her to meet my gaze. “I will call you later.”
A thousand questions fill her eyes, but before she can voice any of them, I kiss her again—hard, demanding, the way I’ve wanted to for the past year and a half, even when I hated her for what she said and thought about me.
Her hands press to my chest, tightening in my T-shirt, a silent plea to explain what the fuck is going on.
I can only hope she understood what I said earlier and leaves instead of fighting me like she normally would. Mouthing “go” as discreetly as possible, I start to step back and release her so she can get out the door and away.
Rocky narrows his eyes on her. “I think she should stay. She may prove useful to get her father involved, if you can’t deliver.”
Fuck.
That backfired in the worst way.
Instead of being afraid of what Rion might do to him if he lays a finger on his daughter, Rocky sees her as a bargaining chip to try to get one of the OG’s involved in his mess.
And there isn’t any room for argument in his tone.
If I try to fight him on this and get Em out, it will cause a scene, and the last thing I need is anyone in here seeing or overhearing something they shouldn’t.
Instead, I reclaim my hold on Emilia and give Rocky a curt nod, motioning toward the storage room with my free hand. “Let’s head into my office.”
Rocky and his goons stalk that way, and I slide Emilia’s arm around my back until I’m sure she can feel the gun I have tucked into my waistband there, under my T-shirt. Brushing my lips to her temple, I keep my gaze locked on them to ensure they’re not looking back or listening to what I have to say as we follow them.
“Keep playing along. Safety is off, and there’s one in the chamber. If things go bad, don’t hesitate to use this on them and put a bullet in each of their fucking heads.”
Emilia
Bile crawls up my throat, threatening to make me wretch on the old, worn, sticky floor of Smitty’s back room as soon as we step inside it.
The three men immediately turn to face us, and the one in the middle, who appears to be the leader of the little crew, crosses his tattooed arms over his barrel chest. I don’t miss the flash of a gun grip at his hip as his jacket shifts or the matching bulges in the same place on each of his “friends.”
Who the fuck are these guys?
And what the hell is Will doing with them?
Even with all the weirdness that’s existed between us the last year and a half—avoiding each other, glaring at each other from across the room, when we’re forced to be there together, each of us wearing our disdain clearly on our faces—I never would have expected anything like whatever the fuck this is.
He isn’t a criminal, and these dudes are very much giving off “we belong in the pen for ten to twenty or more” vibes.
Will closes the door behind us, then urges me to stand at his back, seemingly both to put himself between me and the three men and to offer me easier access to the gun.
We both know I’ve always been a better shot than him, so it makes sense he’d want me to be able to grab it if I need to…which doesn’t bode well for the future of this meeting.
I swallow thickly, forcing the acid down while simultaneously trying to maintain my cool and get a read on the three men in front of us the way Dad trained me to in these types of situations.
Determined.
Strong.
Dangerous.
A familiar tattoo bulges on the main guy’s bicep.
Shit…
When the local MC shows up, it’s never good news, and Will knows better than to get involved with them. The Will I thought I knew never would.
But I guess he hasn’t been that person for a while now…
What the fuck is he doing?
The man, who appears to be their leader, raises a black brow at Will. “Do you have it?”
What the hell is it ?
Will crosses his arms over his chest, feet planted wide. He’s already bigger than those three—both in height and build—but I don’t miss the way he tries to make himself appear even more intimidating. “Not yet, Rocky. Have some patience.”
The guy snarls at him, and I flinch.
“Patience?” The man, apparently named “Rocky,” sneers. “I have been waiting a week, and every day, you’ve told me to come back ‘tomorrow.’ What the fuck is going on, Pike? Are you fucking with me?”
Will shakes his head slowly, remaining completely calm, despite the obvious tension and threat in the air. “No, Mother Nature is. You want me to drive my boat out to the middle of Lake Michigan to meet that fucking freighter and pick up your shipment—I can’t do it when the weather is like this.”
Shipment?
What the hell are they talking about?
I have to bite my tongue more than metaphorically to keep from asking just that. Something tells me these men wouldn’t appreciate me digging for information when I’m clearly only here so Rocky will have a way to get to Dad should he need his help.
Rocky’s dark brows furrow. “When the weather is like what ?”
Will snorts. “You don’t know shit about being on the water. Why don’t you leave it to the fucking professionals? As soon as the waves stop being big enough to flip over Neptune’s Granddaughter , I’ll go meet the fucking boat and get you the shipment. Until then, you have to sit tight. So come back tomorrow.”
The guy’s hard, dark eyes drift over Will’s shoulder to me. “Maybe you just can’t do the fucking job. Maybe you don’t have the balls your father…or hers…did.” He leers, the clear intent in his leer making my skin crawl. “Why don’t we call War and Rion and see if they’re ready to come out of retirement?”
Like that would ever happen…
If that’s what they’re looking for—cooperation and help from the Great Lakes pirates—then they are going to be waiting for a very long time. They quit thirty years ago for very important reasons—who are now standing here in the exact situation they tried to keep us away from.
Will releases a dark laugh that sends a shiver down my spine. He sounds nothing like the man I once loved—and that’s almost scarier than not knowing what he’s neck-deep in. “They’re out of the business and have been for a very long time. They’re enjoying retirement. Leave them be.”
Rocky takes a step toward him, until their chests almost brush, and I inch closer to Will, my hand at the hem of his T-shirt, ready to lift it if I need to.
“I don’t have time to fuck around and play games, Will. I need that shipment. I needed it last week. I have a lot of very unhappy customers who are going into withdrawals. The longer you put this off, the worse the position you put me in. And trust me, you don’t want to be putting me in a bad position. The last person who did that regretted it.”
I suck in a sharp breath, both at the threat he doesn’t even bother to try to veil and the fact that I’ve finally figured out what’s going on.
Will is smuggling drugs for these men?
My head spins.
The Will I’ve known my entire life would never touch drugs, not after what War went through with Will’s grandfather. And Will certainly wouldn’t help anyone bring them in to get distributed on the streets.
It’s the type of thing our parents left the life to ensure we’d never get tangled up in.
Will gives him a tight smile. “The marine forecast looks more positive in the morning. I should be back here with your shipment by this time tomorrow night.”
“You better be.” Rocky drifts his gaze from Will’s to meet mine. “If you don’t have it, I’m going to have a little talk with Emilia and see how she can…assist.”
Goosebumps pebble across my skin, and Will retreats toward me a step. He wraps his arm around me to nudge me toward the kegs in order to allow Rocky and his goons to walk out.
The moment they do, Will stalks to the door and sticks his head out, presumably watching them leave the bar before he pushes the door closed. I sag back against one of the kegs with my legs shaking so badly that I can barely stay upright.
Will doesn’t say a word.
“You want to tell me what the fuck that was?”
He stares at the door for a minute, unmoving, shoulders tense, hands fisted at his side so tightly that his knuckles whiten before he slowly turns to face me. The look in his gray eyes is one I’ve never seen before. Some strange mix of fear and regret…and maybe something else I can’t quite pinpoint.
“That”—he jerks a finger toward the door—“was what I’ve been trying to keep you from getting sucked into for the last year and a half.”
“What?” I shake my head. That doesn’t make any sense. “What the hell is going on, Will? How can you be working with those assholes? How the hell can you be touching drugs and helping them bring that shit here?”
He takes a step toward me, his eyes practically glowing even in the dim light from the single bulb hanging in the center of the room.
They plead for me to understand.
But he keeps his lips pressed together tightly, as if he can’t or won’t offer the explanation I so badly need.
Why would Will do this?
His grandfather OD’d. His father got pulled into a criminal world quagmire because of shipments just like the one they discussed here tonight. And Will despises anyone who would put that toxic shit onto the streets.
So WHY?
Suddenly, his words from earlier flash through my head, like he’s screaming them at me instead of whispering into my ear discreetly the way he did in the bar.
Remember how your mom met your dad…
I didn’t understand them only a few minutes ago when he said them. That was twenty-eight years ago. And it couldn’t possibly have anything to do with what went down tonight.
At least, that’s what I thought then.
But now, those words make sense.
It’s the only thing that does, the only possible thing that might explain all this and how crazy Will is acting.
Yet, it doesn’t.
Will isn’t a cop. He’s a fisherman and a bartender. He spends his time on the water or behind the bar in this old dive.
He can’t possibly be doing what Mom did.
I scan his face, searching for the truth, for an explanation. “Are you…undercover?”