“W-what?”
“Your brother,” he says, and I wait for the part where he tells me that my brother is with the group because he owes them a debt or something. It makes no sense that Knox would be with those criminals, but Kyle’s next words shatter that fantasy. “He’s the vice president of the club, so I bet you know plenty about us already.”
“Vice president?” I mutter, paling. Christ, Knox isn’t just a part of a criminal organization, he freaking runs it!
I turn to Kyle and suddenly, the steeliness in those hard eyes makes horrible sense. No one gets involved with the Steel Rebels MC and stays unscathed. I should know. My whole life wasuprooted because of them, and it seems my big brother is now one of the leaders of that horrible gang.
For the first time since reconnecting with my brother, I question whether I’m simply trading one hell for another.
Chapter Two
Kyle
I have never experienced torture, but being locked in a car on a road trip with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen must come close to it. It beats being caught in a cross fire with a rival gang.
For four long hours, I’ve had to bear her warm and intoxicating scent—soft cedar and wild jasmine. Twice, I damn near ran us off the road as my eyes kept shifting to the girl sleeping through the early morning in my passenger seat. Knox will skin me alive if I don’t get his sister to Chicago in one piece, but damn it I can’t help it. Vivienne is so fucking beautiful, it’s unreal.
He should have warned me. Knox should have told me that this was no ordinary girl he was sending me to protect.
She’s gorgeous.
Vivienne’s face is a study of delicate features, from the gentle curve of her lips to the subtle blush on her cheeks. Her long dark hair is a shade darker than her brother’s, flowing around her shoulders in a silken river with colors that shift in the light as the sun rises. Sometimes it appears a rich dark brown, and other times it reveals the fiery depths of auburn.
But it’s those eyes that stole my breath when I first saw her.
I told her that her eyes looked like Knox’s but I lied. They both have hazel eyes with deep, earthy browns and mossy green, but Vivienne’s eyes carry shimmering flecks of gold. Hers are warmer, prettier, and shine with an innocence that calls for me to protect her from whatever the fuck she’s running from.
And what the fuck is she running from? Knox told me enough to know that her mom and this Rick character are bad news. But he was vague about the details.
I have questions.
Loads of them. More questions than I had when Knox first asked for my help. As a prospect for the Rebels, I often find myself tasked with different roles ranging from making a simple pickup to backing up the club’s enforcers. I’ve been doing this for two years as I wait to be patched as a full-fledged member, so when Knox asked me to pick up his sister from LA and bring her to Chicago, it felt like a way to finally prove my worth and earn my patch.
I figured his sister had to be in some difficult situation and needed someone to aid the move, but I didn’t ask questions. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve assisted the Rebels in protecting a woman in danger. Heck, the Steel Rebels MC manages a women’s shelter and protecting them is what we do.
But then Knox filled me in, and I realized this job would be a little more complicated than I’d originally thought.
Flying back to Chicago is out of the question since she doesn’t have an ID and it would take too long to get one. Traveling by road for twenty-nine hours is going to be a lot, but even more stressful than that is the thought of being stuck in close quarters with this girl.
“Are we almost there?” she mutters, her voice heavy with sleep.
“We’re in Vegas,” I tell her, turning a corner and pulling up to our destination.
I’m relieved that we’ve made it this far—this stop will give me a chance to get out of the car and be distracted by something other than the gorgeous, off-limits woman in the passenger seat.
“This is the Steel Sinners clubhouse. Knox has a contact here who’ll get us some supplies, and then we have another four-hour drive after that to get to the safe house he set up for us.”
Vivienne sits up, her hazel eyes going wide, instantly alert. She seems nervous, but doesn’t protest as we enter the clubhouse.
The Steel Sinners clubhouse immediately makes me feel right at home. The faint smell of gasoline lingers over everything, and motorcycles gleam in proud lines out front. The bar inside is filled with rowdy laughter and the clink of balls over at the pool tables.
I can tell Vivienne isn’t as comfortable as I am, as her shoulders are tense and she sticks to my side like glue, but she peers interestedly at the club paraphernalia that lines the walls, the photos that represent years of brotherhood.
Pope Bishop, the president of the Sinners MC, greets us warmly and sets us up with a new car, a duffel bag with clothes and toiletries, and cash, all pre-arranged by Knox while I was on my flight to LA. “Knox’s family is family to us too—we’re happy to help,” he says, waving off my thanks.
Vivienne relaxes a little bit when Knox’s name is mentioned, but then tenses up again when Pope speaks fondly of the Steel Rebels and his last visit to Chicago.
Before I know it, I’m in a new car with Vivienne for another four hours of driving. Another four hours of temptation, questionsbuzzing around in my head, and pretending that I don’t want her more and more each moment.
