He jerks his chin toward the ledger on the desk. “From what I can see, you’ll never get caught up, not without a sudden influx of cash. Got any ideas on how to pay the club?”
I bite my lip, considering whether to tell him. “One.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“None of your business.”
He arches a brow, and I cave.
“There’s a race coming up. It’s at the track outside of Denver. The payout is fifty grand.”
He huffs. “Fifty? There’s no way.”
“I saw the flyer.”
“Do you even have a bike anymore?”
“I have one.”
“You always were a natural, but when’s the last time you rode?”
My heart leaps at his praise. “I’d need to practice, I admit.”
“Six, it’s a crazy idea.”
My spine stiffens. “You don’t think I can do it?” Somehow his answer means everything. He may be the one man whose opinion matters most.
“I’m not saying that; it’s just you’d be going up against men who do that for a living,year-round.”
“But even if I could get third, the payout would be enough. I know it’ll take some luck, but I have to try.”
His hands hit his hips. “You got a trailer, entrance fees, a fucking team to crew for you?”
“Well, no. But I do have one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I may have a lead on the thieves you’re looking for,” I bluff. “Help me win the race, help me prepare, crew for me, and I’ll give you what I know.”
“Uh, no. You’ll tell me now.”
I fold my arms and lift my chin.
“Goddamn it, Six. They shot our VP. Rock wants their heads.” He flings an arm out, then drops it.
I stick my hand out. “Deal?”
He huffs, glaring.
My hand drops. “Oh, right. I can’t take your word, can I?”
He punches the door frame. It happens so fast I flinch, then lift my chin. I know he’d never touch me… at least, the man I used to know would never hurt me, but then, maybe he’s not that man anymore.
I arc a brow. “That make you feel better?”
He shakes his fist out. “No, but it keeps me from doing what I really want to do.”
The look in his eyes has me swallowing. “And what’s that?”
