Still, though, I did not speak, and my would-be assailant smirked again. “You’ve picked the wrong place to pull over and stick your nose in. Not a copper, are you?”
“On that bike?” One of his friends laughed. “Police can’t afford hardware like that. He’s probably a stockbroker having a midlife crisis.”
“Too young for that.” The third biker moved into view. Frank Crow: a man who had inherited his club’s presidency by birthright, not merit. He had a shrewder gaze than the first biker, though I’d hardly have called it intelligent. He darted a glance to my ride and back again, taking in the Yamaha and lack of weathered leather and ink.He knows I’m not MC. Good for him. He knew nothing else, and if this played out how I thought it would, that wouldn’t change.
Frank Crow stopped at my side and his stench of stale beer, dirty clothes, and old sweat washed over me. “Did Sambini send you to help clear up this mess?”
I cocked my head to one side, letting a smirk of my own do the talking.Think what you want. It will not change what will happen here tonight.
Frustration leeched into Crow’s bland expression. He walked around me, checking for weapons. Then he sighed. “We don’t have time for games. If he was one of ours, he’d have said so. Stick him in the truck and burn it. Torch the grass too, and pick up any tools left behind. Then we gotta end O’Brian for good before he comes for us. I’m not losing any more brothers and money to this eastern European bullshit.”
My smile widened. Without me speaking a word, Crow had revealed everything I needed to know. EverythingCamneeded to know. And now it was me who didn’t have time for games.
I moved fast, striking Frank Crow hard and true enough to kill him stone dead. The sergeant didn’t have time to blink. I curved my arm around him and snapped his neck, letting him slither to the ground as I eyed the last man standing.
The beleaguered Crow stared back at me, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, eyes stretched wide as he realised the horror he’d walked into when he’d followed his brothers back to this scene. “Fuck. Who are—fuck. Who are you?”
I smiled, sick and deadly, and spread my hands. “Whoever your president sold his soul to is about to find out.”
19
Cam
It was a long night. Sol took us back to dry land at a speed fast enough to make Saint hurl; then we chased the truck of girls down mob-handed and did what had earned us the reputation of the toughest chapter of the Rebel Kings. Outnumbered and outgunned—literally—we fought with our bare hands and won.
Better than that, we’d survived mostly unscathed, even Rubi who was still punch drunk from the last time. Only Saint was, uncharacteristically, bleeding, a painful fact I had to ignore as I took it upon myself to slap fake plates on the van, drive it cross country to a wooded area behind the most remote police station I could think of, and unload the cargo we’d stolen: twelve girls, not one of them over eighteen.
Motherfuckers.My blood was boiling. I needed a hit of Alexei to calm me down, but as I drove back to Whitness, daring any Crow or Sambini to get in my way, my calls to him went unanswered.
At the compound, a prospect opened the gates for me. I drove the van straight into the garage and locked it down.
Saint waited for me outside, blood still oozing from his split eyebrow.
My fingers itched to wipe it away.
I lit a cigarette instead. “Where are we at?”
A deep frown creased Saint’s beautiful face. “The Sambinis sent a crew to clear the scene. I saw fire and smoke.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Saves us the trouble.”
Saint plucked my cigarette from my fingers and brought it to his mouth. He took a long drag and fixed me with a gaze that was troubled enough to make me forget how good his lips looked as he exhaled.
I gripped his elbow and pulled him aside, out of earshot of anyone else. “What is it?”
He paused, but I didn’t let my impatience get the better of me this time. I gave him a moment to breathe and let my fingers splay over his forearm, embracing the butterflies it let loose in my belly.Lexi, what have you done to me?
“They’re still using Crows to do their dirty work,” Saint said.
I knew that. I’d put Frank Crow on his arse myself tonight. Only facing down some Sambini fucker with a Glock had stopped me killing him. “You think they’ll do a shit job?”
“I know they will. These pricks can’t do anything right.”
“So watch them,” I said. “Slip in behind them and finish the job.”
Saint nodded but didn’t move.
Neither did I, and the heated tension we’d smothered for years expanded, reaching the parts of me where Alexei already waited.
