Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
A muscle jumped in her jaw, and for one second, I thought she might actually throw the truck keys at me. Instead, she dragged in a breath through her nose and looked toward the Mustang like the car might save her from this conversation.
It didn’t. The car was dead in my bay, and I was standing between her and the next bad decision she wanted to make.
“What exactly do you suggest?” she asked.
“I have somewhere you can stay.”
The change in her was immediate enough to make my instincts sit up. Her shoulders tightened, her chin lifted, and her eyes snapped back to mine with suspicion flaring bright in them. For half a second, I wondered what kind of men she’d dealt with that made her hear an offer like that and go straight to bracing for a fight. Then her mouth opened and gave me the answer before I had time to get pissed on her behalf.
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
My grin came out before I could stop it, and I let my eyes move over her because I wasn’t enough of a saint to pretend the thought didn’t already live in my head. “Didn’t realize that was on the table.”
“It’s not.”
“Not saying you wouldn’t be welcome in my bed.” I watched color rush into her cheeks despite the irritated look she tried to pin on me. “But I was talking about the pull-out couch in one of the offices upstairs.”
That knocked her off balance in a way nothing else had. Suspicion lingered in her eyes, but curiosity slipped in beside it, followed by a reluctant kind of interest she tried to bury before I could see it. Too late. The sight did something dangerous to my chest.
Riley didn’t want to need help, but she was too smart not to recognize when shelter didn’t involve folding herself into the back of an old Mustang in a parking lot.
She glanced around the garage, taking in the lifts, the wide bay doors, the cameras tucked high in the corners, and the men moving through the shop with tools in hand and cuts on their backs. Then she looked at me again, and her voice came out carefully casual. “What’s the security like?”
That question tightened every muscle in my body.
Most people in her position would have asked if the couch was comfortable or whether there was a bathroom nearby. Some would have asked about privacy. Riley asked about security, and she tried to make it sound like an afterthought.
I kept my face still, but inside, the pieces shifted. Her busted car hadn’t put that look in her eyes. Being broke hadn’t done it either. Something had made her afraid enough to clock doors, exits, cameras, and locks before she considered comfort, and the idea of anyone putting that kind of fear in her had violence waking up somewhere deep in me.
“State-of-the-art,” I told her. “Cameras cover almost every inch of the building and the lot. Entry points are alarmed. Nobody gets inside without authorization unless they want a very bad night. The system was built by my brothers, which means paranoia was considered a feature instead of a flaw.”
Her mouth tipped like she wanted to smile but wasn’t sure she should. “That’s one way to advertise.”
“It’s accurate.” I stepped a little closer, watching her eyes flick to me before drifting toward the closest camera again. “Besides, people around here know better than to fuck with anything owned by the Redline Kings MC.”
Her eyes widened, and her fingers flexed around the strap of her bag. Then her brow furrowed. “MC?”
“Motorcycle club,” I explained, lifting my chin toward a flag hanging behind the front counter with the club’s logo stitched on it.
She knew enough to understand the words and symbol mattered, but not enough to know what they meant in Crossbend and the surrounding towns. The Redline Kings weren’t just an MC with a clubhouse and bikes lined up under security lights. We were the spine running under the town—through our whole territory.
We were tied into the tracks, garage, bar, coffee shop, land, money, and every race that mattered within a couple of hundred miles. People didn’t always like us, but they understood the rules. You didn’t touch what belonged to the Kings unless you were ready to have your life dismantled one ugly piece at a time.
“Um…like…”
I chuckled and held up a hand to stop her comment before she could finish, already knowing where she was going. “Not like anything you’ve seen in the movies, baby.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And if it were, you would just come right out and tell me?”
Laughing again, I felt something warm spark in my chest when the sound seemed to loosen some of the tension in her muscles. “You have a point.”
“So you’re criminals?”
I raised an eyebrow, but the corners of my lips were still tipped up in amusement. “Some people call us criminals. Others call us heroes.”