Not when the stakes are this high.
“We sure do. Everyone… be on your best behavior while Miss Hale is here for the next few weeks. If this goes to plan, we could have those fucking pigs off our backs by the new year.”
Nitro snorts out a laugh, shaking his head. “That, or we could all be behind fucking bars as the clock strikes midnight… either or.”
Chuckling, I shake my head at my VP. “Oh, ye of little faith. You’re my right-hand man, Nitro… trust me. Trust me to make sure that Elizabeth writes a glowing feature on us.”
Nitro huffs, his eyes meeting mine, a mixture of loyalty and concern in his gaze. “As your right-hand man, I have to point out just how fucking bad this can go. I’ve done that, but you know, no matter what route you decide to go, Pres… I have your back. If you think Miss Hale is gonna be the person to draw the heat off the club, then I’m one hundred percent in.”
There’s a moment of silence, a stillness that settles over the room as I glance around the Chapel table. Each of my brothers meets my gaze, their expressions a mix of determination and trust.
It’s a heavy thing, that trust, because they’re putting their faith in me, in my judgment, and Iwon’tlet them down.
I can’t.
I reach for my gavel and then slam it onto the table with a swift, single hit. “Then let’s go give Elizabeth Hale a warm Las Vegas Defiance MC welcome.”
Everyone stands, and we file out of the Chapel. The weight of what’s ahead hangs heavy on my shoulders, weighing me down like a lead weight. There’s tension in my chest, a mix of anticipation and unease, knowing Elizabeth Hale is a wildcard, and how she chooses to play those cards could determine everything for us.
I’ve faced rival clubs, corrupt cops, and the Feds themselves, but there’s something different about this, something unpredictable. And though I plan to have as much influence over Elizabeth as possible, the fact is, I won’t know how she will spin the truth until the final cut.
Ghost and Nitro are right—thisisa huge risk.
Rolling my shoulders as I step out to the clubhouse’s main room, it’s buzzing with activity, the club’s usual chaos in full swing. The roar of laughter, the clinking of beer bottles, the rumble of engines in the distance, it’s all familiar, a reminder of why I’m doing this.
This place, these people, they’re my family.
And they have been since I was a scrappy teen when they took me in.
Every risk I take, every decision I make, it’s all for them.
As we approach the main doors, I catch sight of a car, a sleek sedan, too polished for this part of town, pulling up. My pulse quickens as the car door opens, a long leg juts out, my gaze locks onto the bright red sky-high heel, and my brow raises at the tight leather pants clinging to her toned leg. I side-eye Nitro, and a slow smirk crosses his face as Elizabeth exits her car. Those tight black leather pants cling to her athletic body, drawing my eyes in ways they shouldn’t. A simple white blouse hangs a little too low in front for a woman who is going to be around a clubfull of bikers, and to complete her edgy look, she tops it off with a distressed leather jacket. Her light brown hair hangs in soft waves around her face as she glances up at the clubhouse and all the brothers standing, staring at her.
Nitro leans in against my ear with a slight chuckle. “I thought you said you were getting a reporter, not a freaking femme fatale,” he whispers.
I nudge his ribs as Elizabeth steps toward us, taking off her sunglasses and flicking her hair to reveal even more of her stunning face. Her eyes widen as she takes in the outside of the clubhouse, a mixture of curiosity and unease rolling through her, and for a moment, she hesitates, her gaze meeting mine across the distance. It’s like she’s unsure whether she should continue to approach us or whether we should meet her halfway.
I force a smile, making the move to step forward, my brothers flanking me on either side.
She tilts her head, posture rigid, hand moving to her hip as if she’s assessing us, her gaze flicks from one brother to the next in silent assessment.
Game on, Elizabeth.
“Miss Hale,” I call out, my voice carrying over the noise inside, drawing her attention back to me. She turns, her eyes locking onto mine, and I see a flicker of something there—curiosity, maybe even a hint of petulance. “Welcome to Las Vegas Defiance.”
She offers a tentative smile, her steps careful as she approaches. “Thank you, uh… I’m assuming you’re the president?” she asks, her voice wavering just slightly, showing a slight crack in the bravado she’s been attempting to portray.
“Sin,” I correct her, extending a hand. “You can call me Sin. And these are my brothers. We’re all here to make sure you have everything you need for your story.”
Her gaze flicks to the men standing behind me—Nitro, Ghost, Koa, Bear, Mace, Deek, and the others. There’s wariness in her eyes, a guardedness that tells me she’s not quite sure what she’s walked into. I can’t blame her. The club can be intimidating, especially to someone on the outside looking in, no matter how brave they pretend to be.
“Well…Sin,” she replies, her voice gaining a little more strength as she shakes my hand.
There’s something different about her touch. Her grip is firm, but it’s almost as though there’s an electrical charge surging between our palms.Static maybe?
Her eyes search mine as if she is trying to figure me out, like she can feel it too. “I’m here to tell therealstory of Las Vegas Defiance… whatever that may be, without prejudiceorcoercion.”
A grin tugs at my lips, and I release her hand, the static instantly freeing its charge, and I motion for her to follow. “That’sexactlywhat I’m counting on, Miss Hale. So then, let’s get you settled in, and we can start showing you what the club isreallyabout.”
