Chapter 6
Bronc
The next day, Julia was back in my office, seated next to me.
Her deep smoky voice mingled with the rhythmic shuffle of papers in the cluttered office, her pen tapping against the desk with quiet insistence hummed through my veins.
She shot me a glance from beneath the jagged fringe of her hair, her eyes a flurry of caution and embarrassment as she realized she was talking to herself.
I needed to have a conversation with her about the other part of our business.
She was keeping secrets. I had no doubt about that.
But I was sure they weren’t the kind of secrets that would hurt Iron Valor.
They were secrets that posed a danger to her.
I also knew she was my mate. Things were in Fate's hands as much as my own.
She was a part of Iron Valor now, and she’d soon see that motorcycle shop money wasn't all that wound up in our bank accounts or our safes. “Do you trust me, Julia?” My sudden words cut through her calculator key clicks. Those espresso eyes slowly crept up to mine.
“I told you yesterday that I did, Bronc. Why would you ask me again?”
This was the easiest of the secrets I’ve kept from her, but dangerous nonetheless.
I might be making a mistake because I knew she still hadn’t been honest with me about something, but my gut told me to trust her.
And I’ve learned to trust my gut. The other revelation about the supernatural world she is a part of would have to wait.
“The finances of the Iron Valor MC, the shop, etcetera, are private, and I know as a professional, you understand discretion. I’ve tasked you with taking a much deeper dive into our business and the club.
This has put you in territory few people are allowed to enter.
Some of Iron Valor's finances are more well guarded than others. The messy books of the motorcycle shop have put me in a situation I’m not happy about.
You’ve proven to have the skills to pull back the curtain on what the hell’s going on here, so it’s likely you’re going to notice other monies in Iron Valor accounts that you won’t be able to account for.
I’m about to give you the short version of where those deposits originated.
I’m about to share with you the other side of Iron Valor.
Not a word of this is ever to leave this office. Clear?”
She swallowed hard. “Clear.”
“Shut the door, Julia.”
Her eyes widened as she quickly obeyed me without question. Which had my dick hardening in my damn jeans, an entirely different issue. I moved the invoices out of the way and unpacked the lunch I’d picked up from Ma’s. I figured that delivering this news over a meal might make it easier to hear.
Julia eased back down in her chair, sharp eyes narrowing like she was picking apart every word I hadn’t said yet. I wiped my palms on my jeans. Damn, even now, after firefights and interrogations, this felt like walking into a kill zone without intel.
“You’re not just mechanics,” she said finally. Not a question. A verdict.
I snorted. “Didn’t take you long to figure that out.”
She pinged me with her balled-up straw wrapper, then gave a little giggle. She was nervous. “So, what do you do? You all move like… like some kind of precision military squad on the daily.”
There it was—the opening I’d been dodging since she walked into the shop weeks ago. The shop hid plenty: false walls thick enough to muffle gunfire, vaults of gear, ready to go at a moment’s notice. But hiding it from her? Felt wrong now.
I leaned forward, elbows on my desk. “You know what Delta Force does?”
Her brow furrowed. “Elite military stuff?” She shrugged. “Like secret, dangerous stuff.”
“Menace, Arsenal, and I were Delta,” I said simply.
Her breath hitched, good. She understood weight when she heard it.
“Retired? Sure. On paper.” I nodded toward the garage bay outside, where Wrecker’s laugh boomed over engine noise.
“Eli and JT? Army Rangers—same unit back in the day. Ryder? SEAL.”
She blinked hard once—processing. Tactical precision down to her eyelashes. Almost cute if she weren’t so terrifyingly smart. “So Iron Valor’s not just bikes.”
“Shop pays taxes,” I said flatly. “The rest… governments hire us when they can’t get caught holding the leash.” The words came easier now, like briefing a teammate before insertion. “Extract hostages off-grid… recover stolen intel… dismantle shit that’d start wars if it went public.”
Her fingers tightened around her cup, white-knuckle grip on reality unraveling in real time, but her voice stayed steady as hell. “And you trust each other because you grew up together? Your fathers were already Iron Valor?”
“Brothers before blood,” I said—too raw for someone who didn’t know what frostbite felt like at 20 thousand feet or how desert sand clung to fresh bullet wounds.
But she flinched like she did, anyway. “We don’t talk about it outside our circle,” I added softly.
“Not ’cause we’re ashamed… but because trust is armor. Get sloppy with secrets? People die.”
She didn’t ask if we’d lost anyone, smart girl. Just stared at my hands—scarred knuckles cradling lukewarm coffee. Then she said, “You fix more than bikes, huh?”
I grinned. Savage. Pride flaring hot enough to burn through the dread. “Yeah. We fix problems. Quietly.”
I leaned back in my chair, studying Julia’s face as she drummed her fingers on her files. Precise, methodical, always one step ahead.
“Used to be we’d hit a dozen ops a year,” I said, the words rough but deliberate. “Now? Maybe three or four.” Her fingers touched a document, eyes flicking up to mine. I held her gaze. “Don’t mistake quiet for safe, though. The MC world’s still got teeth.”
A beat of silence. She chewed her lip as if she were weighing risks versus regrets.
I pushed on before doubt could settle. “But you’re here.
That means you’re covered. Keep working like you have been—sharp, thorough.
” My boot tapped the concrete for emphasis.
“You notice shit others miss. That’s not luck; that’s instinct. ”
She flushed, gaze dropping like praise was a grenade lobbed at her feet. Christ. How many people had let her think she was anything less than remarkable? My jaw tightened. “You should hear it more,” I muttered, louder than I meant to. “That you’re goddamn amazing at this.”
Her laugh came out brittle. “Clicking keys on a calculator and balancing columns isn’t exactly genius level or top tier work.”
“Bullshit.” The word snapped between us. I leaned forward, elbows on knees. “You could run a kingdom, Julia. You just haven’t been handed the damn crown yet.”
She cast her eyes down. Quiet, but I caught it. For a heartbeat, she looked… unguarded. Like part of her might actually believe me. Good. She deserved to.
I stood, chair scraping against concrete.
“Next mission? You’re lead analyst.” No room for argument—not that she’d need it.
“And when it goes smooth as hell?” I shot her a half grin over my shoulder.
“Don’t act surprised. But for now, we’ve got the mess that you’re dealing with here.
And from the look on your face, it just keeps getting worse. ”
She shuffled a few stacks of invoices and shook her head. “I just can’t figure out how Axle? That was the person who kept all this together before me, right?”
I nodded.
“Well, I can’t see how these kinds of errors were made by accident.
Or are what I’d consider errors at all. It’s almost like every single entry has a few dollars missing compared to the purchase orders.
It will take me a good while to go through at least the past two years of orders and entries to see just how off everything is. ”
“Well, it’s lucky you’re not going anywhere, huh?” I gave her a wink, and her face turned the prettiest color pink I ever saw. Fuck if I knew what I’m doing with this 25-year-old woman when I’m almost 20 years older than her. But I’ve never wanted anyone more.
“It is a good thing.” Her rare, genuine smile made her even more beautiful.
“So, you can manage this?” I asked, keeping my voice level while I leaned in over the desk. “The kind of chaos that comes with it?”
Her dark eyes fixed on mine. I felt her considering how many ways it could go wrong to believe in me. There was no paper trail for this kind of decision.
“I think so,” she said, words so soft I almost didn’t catch them.
I nodded, pushing the open manila envelope across the desk. Her fingers brushed mine as she reached for it, a shock of heat that ran from her hand to mine and back again, sparking our first night together like a live wire. She didn’t flinch away this time.
“Good, ‘cause I found this envelope full of invoices hiding under a box of parts. I don’t want you worrying about rushing to get done. We’re not on a timeline.
There’s more to life than the job. Right now, you don’t really know people, but you will, and you’ll want to have some fun someday.
Take time for yourself to relax.” I was playing it off like I didn’t know she’d always choose to push herself to the edge of collapse.
She was gathering up things to take them from my desk.
“Just let me collect everything from in here. And I know. I’m just not used to being able to come and go as I please.
” She quickly stopped herself like she hadn’t meant to say something so honest. “I mean, I’m not used to having time on my hands. I always had so much work to do.”
“Uh huh,” I said. Knowing that’s not at all what she meant. Sounded like somebody kept her under their thumb.
“Well, you’ve got some free time tonight. I’ve got church, so I can’t take you to dinner. It’s quittin’ time. Gather up what you think you should take home, and we can lock up the rest.”