Chapter 4
4
PHOENIX
I ’d spent the morning and early afternoon reviewing the center’s financial trail, comparing it with the finances of each board member and the manager. I’d already eliminated the board one by one.
None of them had the balls—or the brains—to pull off a slow-drip embezzlement scheme like the one bleeding Juniper Grove dry. Their finances were mostly clean. Stupid as fuck with their spending, yeah. And I was pretty sure that at least one of them was paying a blackmailer, but I’d address that when this was over.
The payments were easy to spot when you had a head for numbers and money—like I did. Which was how I’d accumulated millions in my bank account. After graduating from high school at fourteen and college at eighteen, I had put my bachelor’s degree in accounting and master’s in finance to good use by helping very rich and powerful people with their books. But some of them hadn’t been squeaky clean, and I almost ended up under investigation with the FBI.
I was young and needed some direction, so I decided to prospect the Iron Rogues. It had been the best decision I’d ever made. And being a fucking genius when it came to money meant I worked my way up to becoming an officer quickly, being named treasurer around five years ago. Our president was no slouch either, having spent years on Wall Street before coming home and taking his father’s place as our leader. Between the two of us, the Iron Rogues never needed to worry about money.
That didn’t mean we sat around on our asses. We owned a lot of legitimate businesses and some that were…not so aboveboard. But we kept our activities within the bounds of what was honorable. We lived by our own code, and we were judge and jury when it came to people who fucked with the club.
Which meant that when I figured out who’d been stealing from Juniper Grove, it wouldn’t be the police they’d have to answer to.
Paul had been my first instinct, but I wanted proof to back it up.
By the time I was halfway through cross-referencing the budget line items against the center’s actual conditions, I knew it was him. The timing, the sudden uptick in the center’s administrative expenses that just so happened to align with funds disappearing from the donation pool.
It was clear that he’d been skimming for at least a year. Maybe longer. The asshole thought he was smart enough to fly under the radar, but he didn’t stand a chance now that I was looking into him.
I was poring over the spreadsheets for what seemed like the fifth time, when Deviant barged into my office, scowling like he was about to put a bullet in someone.
“Guy’s a fucking ghost,” he muttered, flopping onto the chair across from me and tossing a USB drive onto my desk. “Paul Vogel has the digital footprint of a ninety-year-old monk. No socials, no online subscriptions, nothing but his damn work email and the most boring paper trail I’ve ever seen.”
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair before crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yet somehow, he’s siphoning money from a youth center,” I said flatly, dragging my eyes away from the spreadsheet on my screen to frown at him. “So unless ghosts can make bank deposits, he’s hiding something.”
Deviant dipped his chin in agreement. “Got one thing, though. He’s got an account at another bank. Tried to hide it but was dumb enough to use a fake name variation, and the address linked back to him.”
“That explains why every one of the missing dollars I tracked went straight into a personal checking account that didn’t appear on any of the center’s records,” I grunted. “The withdrawals deposited into the unknown checking always happened soon after donation money hit Juniper Grove’s accounts. Just enough to keep it from raising red flags so no one would notice.”
And I was pissed as fuck at myself for almost letting him get away with this shit.
“Figured you were onto it.” Deviant pointed out with a grim nod. “But we still don’t know what the hell he’s doing with the money. The withdrawals are cash. Always from different ATMs. No pattern, no receipts, no digital trail.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Best guess, he’s paying someone off or feeding a habit.”
I leaned back in my chair, stretching my neck and crossing my arms over my chest. “But there’s no sign of any vices showing up in his spending—from either bank account.”
Deviant shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You’d think a guy running a scam this long would’ve at least treated himself to a new car or some better clothes.”
He had a point. The greasy little shit still drove a junker, and his wardrobe looked like it came from the dumpster behind a secondhand clothing store. “Maybe he’s paying off some dark shit. Debt. Blackmail. Who the fuck knows?”
A crooked smile cut across Deviant’s face. “Then again, maybe he’s just saving up to buy a personality.”
I gave him a dry look that said I thought he was a fucking idiot, then turned my attention back to the computer. Except I didn’t really see anything. My mind had wandered to Lindsay again. Like it had constantly since the moment she drove away from the compound.
The way her tits had looked in that snug little tee, gently bouncing as I walked her to the door. Her hips swaying. That pouty mouth that was just beggin’ to be kissed. I’d been hard as a rock when she’d challenged me with fire in her green eyes, unconcerned with the fact she was staring down a fully patched member of the Iron Rogues in his own fucking clubhouse. I might have believed her bravado if it hadn’t been for the pretty blush that stole across her cheeks. I’d spent way too much time wondering how far that flush would spread down her body when my mouth was on her pussy.
Still, her backbone had impressed me, and her smart mouth was sexy as hell.
I’d ordered her to stay away from the center, but I had a feeling that the girl was too fucking brave for her own good. Too curious and scrappy to leave the situation alone for long. Which meant I needed to check on her sooner rather than later.
“You’re not even listening, are you?” Deviant asked dryly.
I tore my attention back to him, not realizing he’d still been talking to me.
He smirked. “Damn, you’ve got it bad, man.”
My expression was deadpan.
Then he grinned. “Heard you told her to call you Beck.”
“Assholes who gossip like fucking teenage girls,” I muttered.
He tipped his chin toward me. “That’s a first-name privilege, and we both know what that means.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I grunted, my hand tightening into a fist.
Deviant just grinned wider. “Never thought I’d see the day. You lettin’ some woman close enough to drop the road name.”
“She’s not just any woman,” I gritted out through clenched teeth.
“No shit. If she was, you’d be sittin’ here buried in spreadsheets instead of thinking about red hair and how fast you can get her under you.”
I shot him a glare, but it didn’t slow him down.
“I get it, man,” he said with a shrug. “We all got hit hard when it was the right one. Didn’t matter how long it took or how fast it happened. Just meant she was the one who could cut through the noise.”
Again, he wasn’t wrong. But no way in hell was I gonna admit it out loud.
He leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Welcome to the club, brother. Pussy-whipped, obsessed, and one dirty look away from breaking bones for her.”
I exhaled through my nose, but the corner of my mouth twitched. “You done?”
“After all the shit you gave me? Not even close. But I’ll let it go…for now.”
A sharp knock on the door interrupted us, and I looked up to see Fox, our prez, standing in my doorway, his expression tight. “Got something you’re gonna want to hear.”
My brow drew down, and a fear I’d never experienced before seized my chest.
“Paul’s in the ICU,” he said without preamble. “Coma. Got the shit beat outta him last night and was left in an alley downtown.”
“Fuck,” I breathed as relief trickled through my veins at hearing that it wasn’t Lindsay who’d been hurt.
However, the fact that Paul had been attacked meant we were dealing with something along the lines of the darker shit we’d speculated about.
“Think it’s connected?” Deviant asked, already pulling out his phone.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “And we need to know who the hell he pissed off.”
Without another word, I jumped to my feet and stalked out of the clubhouse. When I reached my bike, I mounted it and drove out of the compound, headed to the hospital. My fingers itched to call Lindsay—to check if she was safe—but I didn’t want her to know about this just yet. I didn’t want her to be scared when I wasn’t there to remind her that I would keep her safe.
The hospital lot was quiet when I rolled in. I quickly parked, my eyes doing a sweep of my surroundings.
That was when I saw her.
Standing near the entrance, Lindsay had her arms crossed tight against her chest, her gaze darting around nervously.
Damn woman.
I was off my bike and stalking toward her before I even thought twice. She startled when she saw me, but to her credit, she didn’t back down. Instead, her chin lifted to a stubborn angle. I refused to think about how cute she was and how her attitude turned me on.
“You got a death wish, baby?” I growled, my hands clenching at my sides. “I fucking told you to stay away.”
Her spine straightened, and she narrowed her eyes on me. “You told me to stay away from the center . You never said anything about the hospital.”
I immediately closed the space between us, every muscle in my body coiled tight with frustration and fear-fueled anger.
“You think this is a joke?” I bit out. “Someone beat that bastard into a coma. Don’t know who’s behind it yet, but I won’t let you get caught in the middle of this shit.”
“I can take care of myself,” she snapped, stepping in closer, like she wasn’t the least bit afraid of how pissed I was. I couldn’t help the spark of admiration that flickered inside me. “I’m not stupid.”
“No, but you’re being fucking reckless,” I growled, backing her toward the concrete wall of the building. Her pine-green eyes flared as her back hit it, and I caged her in with both arms.
Her scent hit me hard—vanilla and citrus, along with something unique to her—and my semi-hard dick turned to fucking steel.
“Told you, you’re under my protection,” I murmured, crowding her tighter. “Means you don’t go poking around anywhere someone might see you as a liability. You let me take care of this.”
She huffed, but her breath caught. “What are you going to do? Lock me in a tower?”
“Not a bad idea, if that’s what it takes to keep you safe.” I dipped my head, letting my breath graze her cheek. “And if you don’t start behaving, I’ll bend you over and spank that pretty ass until it’s cherry red. Then you’ll really learn what protection feels like.”
Her pupils flared, her cheeks heated, and her lips parted on a gasp.
“Ummm,” she whispered, clearly flustered.
“You get mouthy again,” I murmured, lips brushing her ear, “and I’ll make damn sure you feel it every time you sit down.”
I nearly groaned when her tongue peeked out to wet her lower lip. Then she tilted her head, fire returning to her gaze as she planted her hands on my chest and shoved. When I didn’t move so much as a millimeter, she huffed, “You only said not to go near the center.”
It was a weak-ass argument, but it drove me fucking crazy when she got sassy.
She could mouth off all she wanted. Every smart-ass word just made her more mine.
I growled, my tone low and full of warning. “Lindsay.”
Her lips parted again, but I didn’t give her a chance to say another word.
I slammed my mouth onto hers, swallowing her gasp as I kissed her hard, deep, and possessive. Her hands fisted in my shirt, and I pushed her back against the wall so tight there wasn’t a breath of space between us.
It wasn’t soft or gentle.
It was a claim.
A warning.
A promise.
She was fucking mine .
And I would do whatever it took to keep her safe.