“Trust me?” His question caught me off guard. My entire life had been meant for others, and now I had a choice. His voice was a promise. One I might break if I answered. But I did trust him. More than I’d trusted anyone in my life.
“I trust you, Bronc.”
His hand brushed mine again. “S’good. Cuz I trust you too, Julia. You see something’s happening here. Now, go on back out to your desk and continue to do the job you’re best at. Start at the beginning and find all that you can find. Don’t worry ‘bout anything else.”
I felt like a weight had been lifted. Bronc trusted me to do this job, and I was going to do it.
I stabbed the adding machine’s equal button hard enough to crack plastic. Numbers blinked red—$872 missing from last month’s carburetor orders. Across the shop floor, Skeeter laughed with a customer while wiping engine grease onto cash register buttons.
My nail traced the carbon-copy invoice. Same part numbers, same vendor code, different totals. Three months of receipts revealed a pattern—minor discrepancies timed with inventory deliveries. I pulled the safe’s combination from memory, fingers trembling.
The tally book’s spine cracked open to reveal the former Club Treasurer's notes in Axel’s blocky handwriting. My eyes caught on a faded whiskey stain, smearing the March balance. Six grand unaccounted for between muffler sales and…
“Problem, Miss Harris?”
Skeeter’s shadow loomed across the ledger. Pine-scented chewing tobacco wafted from his overalls as he leaned over my shoulder. I kept my palm flat on the incriminating page.
“Just cross-checking vendor codes,” I said. “Seems we paid twice for January’s piston rings.”
His calloused finger jabbed at a random entry. “Axel always paid cash for bulk orders.”
“How enterprising.” I smiled the way Mother taught—lips closed, eyes sharp. “Perhaps you could show me where we store purchase agreements? To streamline next quarter’s taxes.”
The lie flowed smoother than expected. Let him think I’m another pencil-pusher. When Skeeter lumbered toward the filing cabinet, I slipped the tally book into my oversized plaid shirt.
Chapter 6
Bronc
The next day, Julia was back in my office, seated next to me. Her deep smoky voice mingled with the rhythmic shuffle of papers in the cluttered office, her pen tapping against the desk with quiet insistence hummed through my veins. She shot me a glance from beneath the jagged fringe of her hair, her eyes a flurry of caution and embarrassment as she realized she was talking to herself.
I needed to have a conversation with her about the other part of our business. She was keeping secrets. I had no doubt about that. But I was sure they weren’t the kind of secrets that would hurt Iron Valor. They were secrets that posed a danger toher.I also knew she was my mate. Things were in Fate's hands as much as my own.
She was a part of Iron Valor now, and she’d soon see that motorcycle shop money wasn't all that wound up in our bank accounts or our safes. “Do you trust me, Julia?” My sudden words cut through her calculator key clicks. Those espresso eyes slowly crept up to mine.
“I told you yesterday that I did, Bronc. Why would you ask me again?”
This was the easiest of the secrets I’ve kept from her, but dangerous nonetheless. I might be making a mistake because Iknew she still hadn’t been honest with me about something, but my gut told me to trust her. And I’ve learned to trust my gut. The other revelation about the supernatural world she is a part of would have to wait.
“The finances of the Iron Valor MC, the shop, etcetera, are private, and I know as a professional, you understand discretion. I’ve tasked you with taking a much deeper dive into our business and the club. This has put you in territory few people are allowed to enter. Some of Iron Valor's finances are more well guarded than others. The messy books of the motorcycle shop have put me in a situation I’m not happy about. You’ve proven to have the skills to pull back the curtain on what the hell’s going on here, so it’s likely you’re going to notice other monies in Iron Valor accounts that you won’t be able to account for. I’m about to give you the short version of where those deposits originated. I’m about to share with you the other side of Iron Valor. Not a word of this is ever to leave this office. Clear?”
She swallowed hard. “Clear.”
“Shut the door, Julia.”
Her eyes widened as she quickly obeyed me without question. Which had my dick hardening in my damn jeans, an entirely different issue. I moved the invoices out of the way and unpacked the lunch I’d picked up from Ma’s. I figured that delivering this news over a meal might make it easier to hear.
Julia eased back down in her chair, sharp eyes narrowing like she was picking apart every word I hadn’t said yet. I wiped my palms on my jeans. Damn, even now, after firefights and interrogations, this felt like walking into a kill zone without intel.
“You’re not just mechanics,” she said finally. Not a question. A verdict.
I snorted. “Didn’t take you long to figure that out.”
She pinged me with her balled-up straw wrapper, then gave a little giggle. She was nervous. “So, what do you do? You all move like… like some kind of precision military squad on the daily.”
There it was—the opening I’d been dodging since she walked into the shop weeks ago. The shop hid plenty: false walls thick enough to muffle gunfire, vaults of gear, ready to go at a moment’s notice. But hiding it from her? Felt wrong now.
I leaned forward, elbows on my desk. “You know what Delta Force does?”
