“The same.”
“And the girl?”
I stare at the door she walked through. I can still feel the press of her body against mine.
“She doesn't know," I say. "We're going to make sure she never gets hurt by this.”
Viper nods and heads out to start digging, while I pull out my phone and type a message.
Me: Dinner tomorrow. We'll discuss the event. Pick you up at 7.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Karina: Okay.
I pocket my phone.
This is a bad idea. Getting involved: that's not how I operate. I protect people from a distance and fix things without letting emotions get in the way. But it took one fucking hug from her to show me I’m in too deep to walk away.
Fuck.
Chapter Three
KARINA
My whole body is still tingling when I walk into the Hearts United office.
The headquarters is really just a rented suite in a strip mall between a nail salon and a tax preparer, but Ty's done his best to make it look professional. It has a few motivational posters on the walls and some desks he found on Facebook Marketplace. The droopy fern I keep forgetting to water looks accusingly at me from the corner.
Ty looks up from his laptop when I come in. He's in his usual uniform of khakis and a blue button-down, his sandy hair neatly combed.
“How'd it go?” he asks.
“Good but also weird news.” I drop into the chair across from his desk. “The Ridge Renegades are in. Their president is going to personally oversee their involvement.”
“That's fantastic.” Ty leans back in his chair, smiling. “Great work, Karina. I knew you could do it.”
The praise warms me. Ty believes in me.
“There's one thing,” I add. “He wants to be pretty hands-on. Meeting with me tomorrow to discuss logistics, that kind of thing.”
Ty's smile stays in place, but something flickers in his eyes. “Hands-on how?”
“I think he just wants to make sure the event runs smoothly. His club has a reputation to protect.”
“Right, right. Of course.” Ty taps his pen against the desk. “Just... let's keep the operational stuff between us, okay? Donor information, financials, that's all confidential. I don't want volunteers, even well-meaning ones, getting into the weeds of how the nonprofit runs. It can get complicated, and people ask questions that slow everything down.”
“Sure,” I say. “He seems more interested in the event itself anyway.”
“Perfect. You handle the event, I'll handle the backend.” His easy smile returns. “We're a good team, Karina.”
It’s after five, so I grab my bag and head out. The second I'm in my car, I text Tania.
Me: I have so much to tell you
Tania: SPILL
Me: I accidentally pitched to a room full of bikers.
