Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
NIC
My back is aching, but not as much as my fucking head. I pop two painkillers out of the blister pack while balancing my phone between ear and shoulder.
“He’s squirming,” McKay says, his voice cracking as the line drops for a second. “Knows that raid pissed you and your club off.” Good. Let him choke on that fear. “But he’s got bigger problems than you right now.”
“Meaning?”
“Professional Standards are crawling all over that raid. They’re going through every scrap of paperwork, every minute of what happened during it. Half of them are calling for misconduct charges.”
That’s bad for Bird. Last thing any police officer wants is internal investigations digging through this shit—especially when they’re dirty like Bird clearly is.
“They likely to find anythin’?” I ask.
“Oh yeah. Bird isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. Left evidence that a kid fresh out of training could have found. Turns out he’s in a shitload of debt and I mean a shitload, Nic. He was paid to make that raid happen.”
Yeah because Morozov wanted Keeley out of the clubhouse and the only way he could do that without getting his own fucking hands dirty was to use the law—something I couldn’t fight against.
“Your doin’?” I ask.
“I might have slipped an anonymous tip.” McKay’s voice is threaded with humour. “Big guns’ll come in once the internal investigation’s done. They might give him a slap on the wrists, but he’ll be too busy to look at your club again for a while.”
And that’ll keep Keeley off his radar—for now. That’s all I need. Time to deal with Morozov without the police breathing down my neck.
“Thanks, McKay.”
“Don’t thank me. I’ve hated that fuck for years.” There’s a pause then, “Nic? Stay out of trouble, yeah? I can cover up a lot of shit, but I can’t make everything disappear.”
Like a shootout at the clubhouse.
“You handle Bird. I’ll handle my club.”
I hang up and slide my phone onto the desk. Morozov’s world is shrinking, and it’s only a matter of time before he pops his head out of whatever hole he’s hiding in. The moment he does, I’ll end him.
For Keeley.
For my club.
For me.
Just another name to add to the list. Another name Keeley won’t need to know I dealt with—just like her brother.
I stand, pocketing my phone, and head to our room. I’m tired and I want eyes on her, even if it’s only for five minutes.
When I step in, she’s sitting in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, wearing one of my shirts. It hangs off her shoulder, drowning her small frame beneath it.
Yeah, I fucking love that.
Her gaze lifts, and her face softens the moment she sees me. That hits like a punch.
“Hey,” she slips off the bed and comes to me.
As soon as she’s close, I pull her against my chest, just breathing her in. She burrows into me like she belongs, like she’s not borrowing space, or taking up room she shouldn’t. Like this is exactly where she’s meant to be.
Keeley’s what I’m fighting for, why I’m bleeding half the city.
Bird’s neutralised.
Morozov’s in trouble.
It’s not safe, not yet, but I’m getting closer to giving Keeley that and I won’t stop until I have.
“You okay?” she asks when I don’t let her pull back.
“I am now,” I admit, kissing her hair.
I want nothing more than to lower her onto the bed and sink into her heat.
She doesn’t know what she gave me after the raid. When she refused to hear my confession about her brother, then came apart under me like I wasn’t a monster, I nearly fucking lost my mind.
I skim my mouth over hers, fingers tangling in her hair. Keeley’s got no idea the power she has over me.
Money, men, status—they mean nothing.
Keeley could bring me to my knees without trying.
“I’d raze the city for you,” I say it quietly, not because I don’t mean it, but I don’t know if she’s ready to hear that kind of thing from me.
Her fingers twist in my shirt. “I don’t need that. I just need you here with me.”
I kiss along her temple, like my mouth needs to be touching her. “You’re the most dangerous person I’ve ever met.”
Her brow lifts. “I can barely throw a punch, Nic.”
“You make me want things I didn’t know I could have. Make me dream of a life bigger than just being president.”
Wife, home, family.
She fills the space in me I didn’t know was empty, completely rewired my definition of what it means to live.
Her mouth curves slightly. “You deserve those things.” Her hands brush the leather that fits over my shirt like a second skin. “You’re more than just the kutte, Phoenix.”
The kiss she presses on the underside of my jaw almost brings me to my knees.
Every time she touches me, it ignites a fire in the pit of my stomach.
I give her control for a minute, letting her mouth explore where she wants, then I take over. I grip her chin, guiding her where I want and I claim her mouth.
Her tongue slides against mine as her arms slip around my neck. It’s heat and warmth and the feeling of something familiar that feels like mine.
I’m dizzy and breathless, lost in her completely in a way that makes me wonder if I’d be able to resurface if she kept me locked against her mouth.
I’m so gone, so fucking gone.
She makes my heart hammer like I’ve taken a shot of electricity through my veins.
When we pull apart, it’s only because we’re both sucking back air like we’ve run a race. Keeley’s cheeks are flushed with arousal and I bet if I slid my fingers between her legs, I’d find her wet for me.
Fuck, she’s beautiful. I drag my gaze over her face, unapologetic as I take in every inch of her like I’m mapping it so I’ll never forget it.
“Are you finished for the night?” she asks it so sweetly that it pisses me off that I’m not.
“I wish. Still got some stuff to do and then I’m all yours.”
“Then go do it so you can fuck me to sleep.”
I groan. “Sunshine. You tryin’ to kill me?”
“No, it’s just a new rule I’m implementing. Sex before bed.”
I nip her bottom lip, my hands flexing on her hips. “I like this rule.”
“I’ll add it to the list.” Her hands rest on my chest. “Finish your work and then come back to me.”
An hour later, I’m still buried under a mound of crap in my office, but my mind is on Keeley lying in our bed, in my shirt, waiting for me to fuck her.
I scrub a hand down my face. I still have another few calls to make, including to London. I need boots on the ground. I don’t have enough men if this shit continues to escalate, and Morozov isn’t going to back down.
But first, I need to stretch my legs.
I head to the front entrance of the clubhouse. Usually, I’d have a smoke, but I just lean against the rail, and breathe instead. It’s cold, the sharpness of the air cutting down my throat.
When this shit is done with Morozov, I’m going to make Keeley mine properly. I’ll give her my property patch, a ring, if she wants that too. I don’t know what a future for us looks like, but I’m not letting her go. Not after all of this.
I sense movement behind me, and cut a glance over my shoulder as Diesel steps outside. “Your wife kicked you out of your bed?”
He stares at me. “Not recently.” His mouth pulls into a line. “She’s with the other women. They’re having a girls’ movie night.” The way he says it makes my lips twitch. “They kicked me out of the room.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Unlikely,” he grumbles, like he’s mortally offended.
“Was Keeley with them?”
He nods and my shoulders relax. I want her to put down roots here. It means she’s more likely to want to stay if she has friends and things outside of me.
Diesel doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I don’t fill the silence. If it was any of the other guys, I would, but not with him. “It’s… Illogical. What even is a girls movie night? I like movies.”
“Let them have this. They need it.” I don’t elaborate.
He already knows what I mean.
The women haven’t complained at any point about being stuck in lockdown, or the measures we’ve put in place to keep them safe. So if they want to watch a movie and eat their body weight in snacks, then good for them.
Diesel grunts and lean backs against the post next to me, staring up at the clubhouse. “I can’t wait to get back to my apartment. I want it to be just me and Makenna again. Those women are like a pack.”
“It won’t be long now.”
Morozov’s world is narrowing every day. The more of his little empire I burn down or cut him off from, the more likely it is that he’ll make mistakes. And that’s when we’ll get him.
“I worry—about Makenna. I’ve brought her into another situation where she’s in danger.”
I understand, but the life we lead, the way we conduct business, means there’s always someone to fight, always someone willing to shake the tree and see what falls out. There’ll always be someone waiting in the wings to take what’s ours.
“Makenna understands the risks,” I say quietly. “She came into this with you with her eyes open.”
He nods, tapping his fingers against the rail next to him, the beat steady and persistent. “I know. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to protect her, though.”
I think about Keeley and the lines I’ll cross to keep her safe. “Every single man in this building would protect those women with their last breath.”
“That’s the only reason I sleep. Morozov planned the raid before you emptied his accounts.”
“Yeah.”
“That makes him more of a threat than we thought. And now he’s backed into a corner with nowhere to run.” He pauses. “We cut him off, but that doesn’t mean this is over. Even a caged dog will bite.” He pats my shoulder. “Don’t stay out here all night.”
He heads for the door and my gaze drifts to the gate. Something catches my eye.
Bird and his dickhead officers fucked the mechanism during the raid. Riley and Mace patched it as best they could, chaining the fucking thing closed until I can get someone out to repair it, but now, the chain is hanging loose.
Before I can take a step, an arm wraps around my neck from behind. Years of instinct, muscle memory born out of violence and blood, has my body reacting before my brain catches up.
I buck against the hold as something sharp pricks the top of my arm just beneath my t-shirt sleeve.
Heaviness spreads through the limb starting from my shoulder and trickling down toward my hand.
What the fuck?
Boots scuff behind me. Everything blurs for a second before they come into focus. Two men in front, one behind.
I thrash out, throwing a punch that I’m pretty sure lands, but my arms are weights and everything feels weird.
Keeley—where the fuck is she?
I shove back against the hold behind me—more a stumble than a coordinated attack—and lose my footing. I go down on one knee, my head spinning.
My mouth opens to call for help, but a boot to catches my side knocking the wind right out of me.
I wheeze, cheek pressed to the tarmac. How the fuck did I end up here?
There’s a whooshing in my ears, and my body feels boneless and wrong. I try to get to my knees, wobbling, but kicks and punches rain down before I can.
Something metallic coats my tongue. Blood. Every breath feels aborted too early. I try to fight, but end up curled around myself, trying to protect my head while the world fades in and out.
Don’t pass out.
Fuck, don’t pass out.
My vision winks out completely for a second, and when it comes back online I’m being dragged between two of them toward the broken gates.
“No,” I rasp the word, not sure if it actually leaves my mouth.
My thoughts are thick and foggy, my eyes drifting.
Stay the fuck awake, Nic.
There’s a muffled crack, followed by another volley of gunshots.
The guy next to me goes down so heavily, I fall with him like someone cut my strings. The tarmac scrapes over my cheek as I hit the ground.
“Shit, I’m hit!” the guy wails.
I don’t care about him. I’m not sure what I’m meant to care about though. My thoughts are slipping away from me.
“Fire back!” one of the other men yells.
My fingers dig into the ground and I try to push against it. Get up. My legs twitch, but don’t move. I try again.
Fucking move.
I can’t. There’s nothing but static between my brain and body. I’m deadweight. I can barely hear properly, but I pick out the familiar voice. Diesel. Mace maybe.
“Get him in the van,” another says. “Now!”
They pull me up, more shots cracking out. “Fuck, he’s heavy.”
“Should’ve took the girl. That’s who he wants.”
“Yeah?” the voice snaps. “Feel free to go inside and grab her.”
“Stop yappin’ and get him in.”
My shins hit the lip of the door and then I’m dumped on the floor. A van.
No, no, no.
This is bad.
The door slides shut and my hands are dragged behind my back. Even through the floating haze, it feels like he tears my shoulder out of the socket.
I grit my teeth so I don’t cry out. A face appears in front me, too close, too fuzzy.
“Someone wants a word with you.”
He stands as the van peels out of there, rocking me on the floor. My eyes flutter and I try to keep them open, but I lose that battle and everything goes black.