“I am. I mean, I’ll be here anyway for the story. Might as well pitch in.”
The women exchange delighted looks, and I realize I’ve just committed myself even further to this world I’m supposed to be investigating objectively.
As the evening winds down and the brothers begin to disperse, I help clean up the wrapping station. The gifts are neatly stacked and ready for distribution, a colorful reminder of the generosity and heart these supposedly dangerous people possess.
“Elizabeth…” Millie chimes as we’re finishing up. “Thank you. For the advice about Will, I mean. I think I’m going to talk to him tomorrow.”
“Good for you,” I reply, meaning it. “You deserve to know where you stand.”
“So do you,” she says meaningfully, glancing toward the still-empty chair where Sin should be sitting. I don’t have an answer for that, so I just smile and gather my things.
As I head for the exit, I’m struck by how much lighter I feel despite the emotional weight of what I learned about Sin’s past. These people, this place—it’s becoming harder and harder to reconcile with the narrative I came here believing. But as I walk to my car under the Nevada stars, I can’t shake the feeling that Sin is watching me from somewhere in the shadows. The thought should unnerve me, but instead, it sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I’ll figure out what this all means.
Tonight, I just want to hold onto this feeling of belonging, even if it’s built on lies I’m not ready to confront.
Chapter Nine
SIN
The Next Day
The storage unit’s door closes with a satisfying clang, sealing away another month’s worth of McClane gold. My shoulders ache from moving the heavy nuggets, but there’s something deeply satisfying about seeing our coffers full again. This gold is what keeps us running, what pays for the toy drives, the nursing home visits, the club girls’ education, and everything else that makes us more than just another gang of thugs on bikes.
Koa, Bear, and Will did good work at the mine. Clean extraction, no complications, no witnesses. Jonas McClane’s arrangement with us has been flawless for years now, and I intend to keep it that way. The old man gets protection for his daughter, and once a month, three of my brothers go into his mine to take gold that has been put aside for us that hasn’t been registered in his official digs. We get the funding we need to operate without resorting to the kind of shit that would put us on the wrong side of a federal investigation.
It’s why I’ve been avoiding Elizabeth like she’s radioactive.
The irony isn’t lost on me. I brought her here to prove we’re not the criminals everyone thinks we are, but I can’t let her see the one illegal thing that keeps us afloat. The gold operation is clean enough, victimless, but it’s still off the books.
Still something that could destroy everything we’ve built if it got out.
And Elizabeth? She’s exactly the type to dig until she finds something like this.
My poker chip moves between my fingers as I walk back toward the clubhouse, muscle memory taking over while mymind churns. The familiar weight and texture of it grounds me, reminds me who I am and what I’m fighting for. This club saved me when I had nothing. These men are my family. I won’t let anyone, not even a leather-clad wildcat with eyes that see too much, put that at risk.
But fuck, she’s making it hard to think straight.
Every time I catch a glimpse of her laughing with the girls or asking the brothers questions about their lives, something twists in my chest. She fits here in a way that terrifies me. Last night, watching her help wrap toys like she’d been doing it for years, seeing her genuinely care about Millie’s problems with Will, it was too easy to imagine her as part of this permanently.
And that’s exactly why I need to keep my distance.
The Chapel’s heavy door closes behind me with a solid thunk, muffling the sounds of the clubhouse beyond. In here, surrounded by the familiar scent of leather and old wood, I can finally breathe. I can finally think without her intoxicating presence clouding my judgment.
I pour myself three fingers of whiskey and settle into my chair at the head of the table. The amber liquid burns going down, but it’s a welcome distraction from the memory of Elizabeth’s skin under my hands in the desert. The way she gasped when I touched her. The little sounds she made that drove me absolutely fucking insane.
Christ, I’m losing my mind.
A knock at the door interrupts my brooding, and Nitro’s voice cuts through the silence. “Pres? We need to talk.”
“Come in.”
My VP enters, closing the door behind him and taking his usual seat to my left. His expression is serious, the kind of look that tells me I’m about to get a lecture I probably deserve.
“Avoiding Elizabeth isn’t going to help the situation, Pres,” he says without preamble.
