Now I can taste bile in the back of my throat. I swallow hard.
I’m twenty-four, but in this moment I feel like a little girl again, trying to curl into the corners of my old bedroom to escape my father’s fury. Except this isn’t my father. Not by blood anyway. Malice made sure to remind me of that the day he discovered my mother’s affair, as if her sins were mine to repay.
“I’m not going to seduce some biker.” My voice isn’t as defiant as I want it to be. It comes out thin, stretched tight. “You can’t force me to do this.”
I swore I’d never have anything to do with a biker. Not after what I saw. Not after the Wolves taught me what men like them do when no one is watching, what they sell, what they break, what they keep locked up until it’s time to cash in.
Malice’s hand slams onto the table. The crack of it makes me jump so hard my nerves sting.
“I can force you to do anything I damn well please,” he says, voice low and dangerous. “You owe me. This club has kept you alive and fed, and that comes with a price. So you will get yourass over to their territory. Cry if you have to. Bat your lashes. Whatever it takes. Get them to let their guard down so I can take what’s mine.” His eyes cut over me, measuring. “You’re a little pig. But you’re a smart girl. You’ll figure out a way.”
He looks at me like I’m a piece of machinery he owns. Something that should work because he paid for it.
My skin burns. I want to scream. I want to grab something off the table and throw it. I want to tell him I would rather die than go anywhere near the Damned Saints.
But that would only amuse him. He and John would laugh, then remind me of my mother’s betrayal. They’d say I should be grateful they kept me at all.
So I swallow my rage. I push it down until it turns to sludge in my stomach.
John squeezes my shoulder again. His voice drops into something almost affectionate, and that somehow makes it worse. “Do it clean, little sis,” he murmurs into my ear. “Do it fast. Bring back something good, and maybe we’ll let you breathe.”
My heart stutters.
“You mean it?” The words slip out before I can stop them. Hope is stupid, but it still tries to live in me sometimes. “If I do this, you’ll… stop?”
Malice’s grin is cold. “You’ll always owe,” he says. “But maybe you can lessen the debt. Now go.”
I leave the room on shaky legs, careful not to look back. I don’t want him to see the panic in my eyes. I don’t want him to watch it like a reward.
Outside, cold air bites at my skin, sharp and clean compared to the stink of the clubhouse. I climb into my car and clutch the steering wheel until my knuckles bleach white.
This mission is the last thing I want. Everything inside me is screaming trap.
The Wolves don’t want information because they’re curious. They want a war. They want the Saints bleeding. They want me to be the spark.
They want to use me like bait.
I start the engine. My hands shake so badly I have to press them harder against the wheel to steady them, to make myself look like a normal girl driving down a mountain road. My heartbeat bangs in my ears. I repeat the plan over and over, like repetition can make terror manageable.
Break down near their clubhouse. Lie about an engine problem. Say I need help. Try not to vomit. Try not to let my voice crack when I speak. Try not to get lost in the smell of oil and leather that will cling to them like a second skin.
I whisper to myself, “Get through tonight, Grace.”
It doesn’t sound brave. It doesn’t sound like a vow.
It sounds like a plea.
I’m halfway down the mountain when my phone buzzes. The sudden sound makes me jerk and nearly drop it. A message from Malice flashes on the screen.
Do not come back until you have something.
My chest tightens until breathing feels like work.
Turning back isn’t an option. Running isn’t either. The Wolves own everything between here and Lovestone Ridge. They have people everywhere, favors everywhere, eyes in places they shouldn’t. If I run, they’ll find me. If I fail, they’ll punish me until I’m not useful anymore.
So I have to pretend to play along.
I have to outsmart them quietly.
