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)
“Which is it?”
“Depends on who is telling the story.”
Her mouth curved slightly.
“I’ll be honest. We don’t really give a damn about laws on paper, but we live by a code. Loyalty, honor, and brotherhood. We protect what’s ours with everything we’ve got. And if you’re staying on Redline Kings’ property, that includes you.”
Riley’s shoulders eased before she could stop them. The relief was almost hidden, but I still saw it.
Her controlled reaction only fueled my suspicion that she was running from something, and the questions piled up in my mind. I wanted answers, but Riley was wound too tight to demand them. I’d interrogated men for the club often enough to know when pressure would make someone crack and when it would make them shut down. With Riley, right then, pushing would have sent her straight into whatever survival mode had kept her upright this long.
So I reached for the duffel instead, and she pulled it back on instinct.
Exasperated, I looked at her. She stared back at me. Neither of us said a word, but she finally loosened her grip, and I took the bag from her shoulder. The strap slid over my hand, warm from her body, and that small contact shouldn’t have done a damn thing to me. It fucking did anyway. My palm tightened around the canvas while my mind supplied a lot dirtier images than carrying her bag upstairs, including the shocked sound she might make if I pulled her back against me and she felt exactly what she was doing to my body.
“Follow me.”
I felt her eyes on my back as I led her through the shop and toward the hall that cut behind the main office. The first bathroom sat on the left, clean but industrial, with gray tile, a deep utility sink, lockers along one wall, and a shower stall big enough for a man to scrub off a full day of grease without bumping his elbows. The second was farther down, set up the same way, because The Pit ran late often enough that my people needed to wash and change before going home.
Riley stepped just inside the doorway and looked around with the same focused attention she’d given her engine, taking in the shower, locks, exits, and the fact that both rooms were clean enough to prove I ran a tight shop.
“Employees use these?” she asked.
“Yeah. We get covered in grease, fuel, metal dust, and whatever else the day throws at us. Figured giving my guys a place to wash off before they went home would cut down on complaints from wives and old ladies.”
“Practical.”
“I try.”
Her gaze slid to me, and there was that almost-smile again. It made my cock throb because apparently, my body had decided every expression she made was an invitation. I ignored it by showing her the kitchenette next, which sat at the end of the hall with dark cabinets, a full-size fridge, a battered table, a coffee maker that had seen more trauma than some prospects, and enough snacks to survive a hurricane if nobody let Nitro near the good stuff. “This is for everybody.”
Riley looked at the shelves, then at the fridge, and I could see the moment she realized I meant it when I basically told her to help herself.
I walked her through the alarm panel next. She paid attention to every step, asked two smart questions, and repeated the code once under her breath as if locking it into place. That told me more than she probably wanted it to.
She listened like a woman who expected to need the system before morning. It made me want to put her behind me and dare the world to try something, but I kept my voice steady and showed her the panic button hidden under the counter instead.
Her gaze snapped to mine. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“What happens if I press it?”
“Every brother within range gets an alert, cameras lock to the nearest feed, and whoever made you press it regrets every choice that led them here.”
For the first time since she’d returned from the motel, Riley looked like she didn’t have a smart-ass answer ready. Her throat moved when she swallowed, and her lashes lowered for a second before she nodded. The gratitude she didn’t say sat between us anyway, and it hit me harder than words would have.
I didn’t want her grateful. I wanted her safe. Unfortunately, wanting anything that badly from a woman I’d met a couple of hours ago probably meant my brothers were gonna be even more insufferable than usual when they found out.
I led her upstairs to the second level, where the offices overlooked part of the shop through interior windows. Most of them were used for scheduling, private calls, payroll reviews, and the kind of paperwork nobody wanted to admit kept the place alive. The office at the end of the hall was the least used, mostly because Kane preferred doing business from his own place, the clubhouse, or whatever track he happened to be controlling that day. And Nitro had an office near mine on the first floor.