Deadly Little Pawn (The Daring Brotherhood #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Bear

I lost my little puppy dog tonight, and I’m hunting him down.

Lucas Fox, the bright and shiny golden retriever of The Daring Brotherhood, isn’t getting away from me.

No one ever does. He’s my favorite captive yet, and our time isn’t done.

He can’t run away from me. I’ll drag him back by his tail and tie him to my ass.

I grin. That I’d love to see.

I blend into the darkness of the night behind the trees on the street corner, five blocks from the tracks.

About twenty feet away from me, Lucas yells at a girl with long dark hair, telling her to go home.

Her fists tighten at her sides as her eyebrows draw together, making her look like she wants to fight back, but she doesn’t.

Interesting little creature. She’s dressed in all black, with tight pants that hug every curve.

I’m hypnotized by her, watching her from a distance. She’s strong, her body language screaming tough bitch. Her long, straight dark hair hangs loose down her back. The urge to wrap it around my wrist and pull until each strand falls from her skull is strong.

I’ve seen her before. She’s the princess of The Daring Brotherhood—Gage Ledger’s sister, Amirah.

Her name rolls off my tongue effortlessly, sounding like a nursery rhyme.

Gage is one of the new leaders of The Brotherhood, so by all accounts, she’s a high-value commodity.

Taking her would hurt The Brotherhood more than taking Lucas.

I’m captivated by her; she would be way more fun to play with.

And Kai would be proud too. He wanted Freya—I’ll give him another pussy instead.

Though she’s been around with Freya, I haven’t really seen her until now. She looks fun.

I know women like her. She’ll be out partying late at night, every night, drinking her tequila from gold-lined shot glasses, covered in body glitter and all that shit before she bathes in Armani perfume and sleeps with some overly waxed male model who probably rides bicycles for fun.

Or that’s who she should be—a princess.

But there’s something different about her, a strength in her eyes I wasn’t expecting.

The pawn could be deadly. Fuck Lucas. Amirah, it is.

Shaking my head, I flick off the ash from my smoke and lean back on my motorcycle. Dried blood from my fight with Lucas stains my white shirt even here in the shadows, where there’s little moonlight.

After bringing the fabric over my head, I shove the end of the T-shirt into my pants pocket.

Lucas stabbed me earlier before running back to Daringville like a widdle puppy.

I liked him. He was fun to play with, but now he’s gone and I’m sad.

But I have a new mission, one that lights my insides on fire.

Fuck, it feels good. The burning sensation inside my stomach, the way the blade sliced through my skin.

Fuck. I live for pain. If I don’t have it, then it doesn’t feel like I’m alive.

I sewed the wound up with my needle and thread.

It’s going to leave a gnarly scar—a reminder of my precious time with my little pup, Lucas Fox.

Kill her, the voice inside me whispers, and I crack my neck, squeezing my eyes shut.

Maybe I will. I want to hunt her down first. Bend her, teach her, see how far I can push her. She’s different. Taking her will hurt them, and that’s all that matters.

The voice quiets down again, so I can focus back on her.

The rumble of her car rips through the night, and Lucas walks away toward the house.

She’s leaving. No. Dropping the rest of my smoke to the ground, I wrap my leg over my bike and kick the lever.

She roars to life, and I follow Amirah’s car, keeping my lights off.

I don’t want her to see me. Not yet. I want to surprise her, to take her when she least expects it.

Excitement builds inside me. My fingers wrap around the bars. I keep a good distance between her and me as we cruise the quiet streets of Daringville, the cookie-cutter mansions flying past. Stupid rich people having shit they don’t need.

She reaches the entrance to a rich estate, and I leave my bike half a block away before running closer. My stitches burn with each step, a reminder that I’m alive.

As the gate opens and she drives through, I creep round the guard block before sneaking through the open gates. He doesn’t even notice me—so much for over-the-top security. Fools.

Sticking close to the tree line next to the road, I follow her down a long driveway.

The garage door opens, revealing a gallery-like display of cars and bikes.

She parks in the garage and drool runs down my chin.

So many cars, bikes. Fuck. I want ’em all.

Maybe I can take one of them home? Or all of them?

No, we just want her. Focus. The voices are right; she’s my priority.

There are a couple members of The Brotherhood moving around the perimeter of the house a short distance from where I am in the tree line, but they haven’t spotted me yet.

The garage door starts to close. I watch the guards closely, and when one turns to talk to the other, I make my move.

I sprint a hundred feet from the tree line and roll under the garage door with only inches to spare.

They should have planned their yard better.

All this space, and they put hedges this close to the house?

Anyone could—and I will—break in. Idiots.

My skin itches and my eyes roll into the back of my head.

It takes everything in me not to grab the keys to the Ecosse ES1 Spirit superbike and leave. Fuck me. There are more cars and bikes than I can count, all worth millions. I run my hands over the metal of the motorcycle, a jolt of electricity pulsing through me.

We want her.

Right. I need to focus.

I stalk toward the white door at the end of the garage and twist the knob ever so slightly before opening it a crack.

As I peer inside the house, it’s quiet. Light streams down from the stairs, and I make my move, stalking up them two at a time to follow the golden glow. I reach a door that’s half open.

There she is, talking with another woman who’s wearing a black-and-white-checkered dress—a maid, most likely. Fucking rich people. We’re over in the Hood, struggling to afford our next meal, and here they are living with more than they could ever need. The system is fucked.

Amirah grabs the lady’s arm, handing her a wad of cash. Her eyes widen before she shakes her head, but Amirah shoves the money inside her front pocket. They talk in hushed tones that I can’t hear through the door. Amirah hugs her and she returns it.

She’s helping the maid? Why?

I need to know her.

We all do.

The maid wipes away her tears and hugs Amirah again before coming toward me.

Fuck. I push back against the wall next to the door.

She moves out of what must be Amirah’s bedroom and heads in the opposite direction without seeing me.

My heartbeat skyrockets. She could notice me at any second.

She puts some earbuds in before descending the stairs, and it’s not long before the slam of the front door echoes back toward me.

She’s gone. Perfect, I can focus on Amirah.

I let out a heavy sigh, then peer back in at Amirah. She is sprawled out on her bed, her dark hair fanned out over her pillow. She’s furiously typing away on her phone, her brows scrunched together.

My dick hardens watching her. Her tight black top rides up as she shifts positions, showing off her toned stomach.

Get her. Claim her now.

The voices inside my head are trying to stake their claim. Shut up.

Those wide hips . . . I want to bite her ass, leaving my teeth marks there as a reminder of who she belongs to. She doesn’t even know me yet, but she will.

She will be ours.

She’s my new obsession. My heart hammers against my rib cage. The excitement—I haven’t felt it this strong before. She’s going to be fun.

No, we want her dead.

Shut up, she’s my toy first.

Using my boot, I kick open the door.

Amirah’s eyes clash with mine, widening before she screams, “Who the hell are you?!”

My pulse kicking up a notch, I pull the door shut behind me and rush toward her. She rolls off the mattress, standing between me and her bed. She screams again.

“Shut up,” I say, moving closer until I reach the end of her bed.

She steps backward, watching me closely. I look to the other side of the bed, to her phone sitting there. I stalk over and grab it before she can, shoving it into my pants pocket.

She curses and runs toward the door.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. One move, and I’ll run this blade across your sweet cheeks.”

Amirah stops at the door. She turns around and walks slowly back to the bed opposite me. Good girl.

The corner of my mouth lifts as I undress her with my gaze, moving from her tight black pants up her curves.

Touch her.

I can’t, not yet.

Her chest rises and falls at a rapid rate. What feels like a thousand moths flutter inside my stomach. What the fuck is that about?

Being this close to her, watching her body react to me. Does she feel whatever this is between us too? It’s confusing. She’s different, and I want to know everything about her.

Her eyes flick from me to the door, and before she can move, I’m on her. Jumping over the bed, I pull her down onto the mattress, then pin her by grabbing her arms and sitting on her hips. She thrashes around, rubbing her cunt all over my cock. Fuck me sideways.

“If you wanna fuck, I’m down,” I offer, and her wild eyes glare right into my soul.

“Get the fuck off me now!” Her voice rises with each word.

She’s strong; she will be my greatest captive.

No, kill her and leave, the voice begs.