“Who the fuck?” Shaggy muttered.
“Naiya’s best friend. Don’t know the guy she’s with. Her husband is a cop, but he’s a good guy. Not someone who’ll rat us out.”
“Have you seen Naiya?” Ally’s face creased with worry. “We were supposed to meet her at the hotel and then she sent me a text telling me to meet her at this bar, but the bouncer at the door says it’s a private club and he wouldn’t let us in. He said he’d never heard of you or Naiya.”
“Who’s on the door?” Holt asked Shaggy under his breath.
“One of Banks’s new hires. Civilian. Doesn’t know all the brothers yet.”
The dude tugged on Ally’s arm, and pulled her to the side. “I don’t think you should be talking to them,” he said, making a poor effort at keeping his voice low. “They’re bikers. Real bikers. They are the last people Naiya would ever hang out with.”
“I know Holt.” Ally pulled her hand away. “And so does Naiya. He’s a good guy, Maurice. He helped her escape.”
Maurice.
Holt hissed under his breath as he took in the pathetic excuse for a man in front of him. Christ, the dude looked like that geek from
The Big Bang Theory,
except his forehead was even bigger, his head even rounder, and his hair so pale he almost looked bald. Although he couldn’t be more than thirty, his shoulders slumped forward, he had arms like sticks, and he had the beginnings of a paunch. And those fucking thick glasses … Where had she dug this loser up? Geeks R Us? And what the fuck was on his legs. Were those … cords?
“Thank you for looking after Naiya. She means a lot to me.” Maurice stuck out his hand, but Holt made no move to shake it. Like fuck she meant anything to him. If she did, he would never have let Naiya go alone to the cemetery. He would have been the first one out to rescue her. He would never have had an affair or sent his friends to tell her and break it off. And, although Holt couldn’t even bear to think of Naiya with another man, this cord-wearing freak would never have satisfied her the way a real man could.
Shaggy glanced over at Holt. “Is this her boyfriend?”
“Was.”
“Is.” Maurice corrected him, proving just how stupid he was. “That’s why I’m here. Naiya called and begged me to come. She’s alone and afraid and she needs someone to protect her.”
Ally frowned. “That’s not really what happened.”
Shaggy snorted a laugh, speaking as if Maurice wasn’t standing right in front of them. “
He’s
gonna protect her? From Viper?”
“Seems so.” Holt pinned Maurice with his gaze. “She must have real faith in your ability if she called and begged you to come. Let’s see what you got.”
Maurice glanced over at Ally for help and received a smirk. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“What are you packing?” Holt pulled out his Smith and Wesson Model 500. “I carry this, along with a Glock 17 and a SIG P226. I also got a Ruger P Series across my chest, a .22 on my left leg and an assortment of blades.
“I don’t carry a gun.” Maurice took a step back. “I’m actually anti-gun.”
“He’s anti-gun,” Shaggy said, amused. “That might be a problem, son, ’cause Viper is pro-gun. In a very big way.”
“Don’t give him a hard time.” Holt tucked away his weapon. “Maybe he’s got some fight training, or maybe he knows marital arts.” He held up his fists, turned to the side. “C’mon. Gimme your best shot. Show me what you’re gonna do to Viper when he comes at you.”
Maurice held up his hands, palms forward. “No fighting. I’m a pacifist.”
“Jesus Christ. He’s a pacifist.” Shaggy laughed. “He’s gonna make love to Viper, not war.”
Ally stepped in front of Maurice, and glared at Holt. “Stop this right now. It’s like watching a cat toy with a mouse. You just want an excuse to hit him because of what he did to Naiya.”
Shaggy’s brow furrowed. “What did he do to Naiya?”
Holt rocked his head from side to side and his neck made a satisfying crack. “Well, let’s see. He led her on. Told her they were gonna get married, have a life together. All the time he was fucking someone else. He was so busy with his little honey that he couldn’t be bothered to go with her when she went to her momma’s funeral or help her when she escaped from Viper. Instead he sent her friend to tell her about the affair and break it off.”
“Son of a fucking bitch.” Without warning, Shaggy plowed his fist into Maurice’s stomach, sending him sprawling on the sidewalk.
“That was my hit,” Holt protested. “She’s my girl.”
Shaggy shook his hand, spat on the sidewalk beside a whimpering Maurice. “Sorry about that. Got carried away. I’m anti-cheating on nice girls who belong to my brothers.”
Holt felt a prickle at the back of his neck. Christ. Had all the Sinners changed as much as Shaggy in the short time he’d been away? The dude had gone from barely tolerating Holt’s presence to becoming his new BFF.
“You want me to hold him so you can have a go?” Shaggy moved toward Maurice, and Holt shook his head.
“We’re wasting time. We gotta get her some place safe before that fucking ATF agent finds her.”
“The ATF?” Maurice scrambled backward, cupping his jaw as he stood. “What have you dragged her into?” He turned to Ally and scowled. “Why didn’t you tell me she was in serious trouble? I don’t want to get involved with the ATF. I have a reputation to protect. I’m up for tenure in a few years. I don’t want my name smeared all over the news, or associated with bikers or drugs.” His face twisted in disgust. “That’s it, isn’t it? She’s back with the bikers. Two years she held out on me but really she’s just like her mother.”
Holt lunged forward, grabbed Maurice by the collar and slammed him up against the brick wall. “You ever talk shit about Naiya again, I’m gonna break your skinny arms and legs and wrap them around your neck.” He flicked Maurice’s glasses off and Shaggy ground them into the sidewalk with his heel.
“Leave a piece of him for me.”
“No way.” Holt drove his knee into Maurice’s stomach. “This dipshit is all mine.”
* * *
Think. Think.
Naiya twisted her ring around her finger wishing she’d never bought those damn Bolton Beaver shirts. But how could she have known where that night would lead? Certainly not to her and Holt going on the run all over Montana racking up the crimes and attracting the attention of the ATF.
Michael smirked as he lifted the glass, the same kind of smirk that had been on Viper’s lips when he pretended to be solicitous seven years ago at the party when she said she wasn’t feeling well after the drink he gave her. Michael was toying with her, just as Viper had toyed with her. Except this time she wasn’t fifteen, alone, and innocent. She’d been through hell and back. And there was no damn way anyone was taking anything from her again. She wasn’t a victim, and she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Well … maybe she’d done a few things wrong, but nothing bad enough to warrant the kind of attention Michael was throwing her way.
And he had no evidence to tie her to Leo’s death, or they would be having this conversation in an entirely different location.
She finished her water, and nodded at Banks for a refill. “So, Michael. What brings you to a one-percenter biker bar in the middle of a one-percenter biker town? Isn’t this a dangerous place for an ATF agent to be?”
His head jerked toward her, and his eyes hardened. Well, too damn bad. She wasn’t playing his game anymore. No more pretend. The very fact she was in the bar proclaimed her biker connections. After this was over she was heading out of the state for her interviews, and she would be done with bikers forever, so why not use her connections to her advantage while she could?
“My personal safety is never an issue when I’m looking for a cold-blooded killer.” He puffed out his chest. “I’ll do what it takes to keep the public safe and ensure justice is done.”
“How noble,” she said dryly. “And you think you’re going to find him in this bar?”
Michael pulled a piece of paper from inside his jacket and laid it on the counter. “I think I’ll find Holt Savage wherever you are.”
Naiya stared at the mug shot of a young Holt and read through the text that set out his juvenile record in Laredo for assault, battery, theft, and violation of parole. His fingerprints appeared at the bottom of the page along with a note detailing his current known associates: the Sinner’s Tribe MC.
“You printed him from the glass in Trenton,” she said without thinking.
“Clever.” Michael tipped his chin.
But not clever enough. How could she have missed the glass? She’d been hyperaware about evidence around Michael. But then Holt had made that comment about pizzas …
“Do you have evidence that he’s done something wrong, except maybe indecent exposure with his girl outside the bar?”
“You think you’re so smart, but I’m on to you.” Michael gripped her arm so hard her eyes watered. “And as for evidence, in less than twelve hours I’m going to have a copy of the CCTV tape from the gas station that shows the faces of the two people in Bolton Beaver shirts who were riding the deceased biker’s Harley. And I’m pretty damn sure I know who I’m going to see when I look at that tape. So why don’t you stop playing games and start cooperating, and maybe I’ll go easy on—”
His last word was cut off when a massive hand landed on his shoulder.
“This the guy you texted me about, Banks? The one causing trouble in our bar?”
Naiya looked up at the tall, giant of a man behind Michael. It took her a second, but she remembered him from the front door—Gunner. And behind him were Zane and Cade, and a dark haired, blue-eyed biker she’d only briefly met, Sparky.
“I think he’s lost,” Banks said. “Must be in the wrong bar. See the way he’s holding Naiya? Anyone who comes to Rider’s would know our policy about manhandling the ladies. In the civilian world, I believe unwanted touching is called … assault.” Banks cocked his head and gave Michael a cold smile. “Isn’t that right?”
Michael’s lips thinned and he released Naiya’s arm. “I didn’t assault her. I was holding her so she didn’t get away.”
Catching on, Naiya twisted her face in a frown. “Look at the bruises on my arm. I believe a person convicted of assault under the Montana code faces a fine and imprisonment in county jail for up to six months. In fact it might even be aggravated assault, since I had a reasonable apprehension of serious bodily injury, and you do have a weapon, don’t you?”
“I definitely think he was trying to intimidate you,” Banks said. “I felt intimidated listening to your conversation. I think I might have even pissed my pants.”
“He did make me afraid he might inflict physical harm or subject me to physical confinement or restraint.” Naiya slid off her seat, paraphrasing the code as best she could remember from her criminal-law course. “That’s an even worse offence. He could go to state prison for up to ten years or have to pay a $50,000 fine.”
“Seems a shame such an efficient ATF agent would have to spend ten years in jail,” Gunner said. “Maybe we could offer not to report him if he accepts Sinner justice instead.”
Zane cracked his knuckles. “You’re too kind-hearted, Gun.”
“Gunner really is a softie.” Sparky said. “That’s why he gets all the girls.”
“It’s against the law to assault a federal agent.” Michael pulled his ID from his pocket and Cade snatched it from his hand and tossed it over the bar to Banks.
“Is there a federal agent somewhere?” Cade pretended to look around, then stared at Michael. “Are you a federal agent? You got some ID?”
“Maybe he’s not a federal agent,” Naiya said. “Maybe he’s just some drunk guy who sat beside me and tried to pick me up even though I told him I’m…”
“A Sinner.” Banks smiled. “And the Sinners protect their own.”
* * *
Holt spotted Naiya at a table with Ally as soon as he entered the bar.
Ever watchful, Tank stood beside Naiya, his hand in his cut, his eyes darting from side to side as he searched for danger.
“Darlin’.” Holt leaned over to kiss her and she pulled away. He supposed he deserved that, but right now he wasn’t in a mood to play games. His brothers had taken Michael out back to await Holt’s justice and after Holt had let loose his anger, he wanted nothing more than to hold his woman in his arms. Preferably, naked and in his bed. But first he’d have to gain her forgiveness.
Naiya glared, her eyes dropping to his blood-smeared hand. “Is that Maurice’s blood? Ally said you beat him up.”
He pushed her hair back behind her ear, trailing his fingers down her neck. God, she was beautiful. Sexy. Fiery. And his. What the hell had he been thinking walking away and leaving her unprotected? “Nah. That’s Michael’s blood. I had to teach him a lesson. He made the mistake of messing with a Sinner’s woman in a Sinner bar in the Sinners’ town.”
Naiya stared at him aghast. “You beat him up, too?”
“Anyone who hurts you. Anyone who touches you. Anyone who makes you scared. Anyone who makes you cry. I’ll rip out their hearts, break their bones, and drown in their fucking blood to keep you safe.”
“That’s kind of romantic in a terrifying, morbid, ruthless, outlaw-biker kinda way,” Ally said. “Doug just says ‘love ya, babe’ or ‘keep safe.’”
“It’s only romantic if the guy is actually around to do it,” Naiya said, slapping Holt’s hand away. “But if he drops you off at a hotel in a strange town and leaves you to fend for yourself while he drives off to get himself killed, it loses its effect.”
“You looked after yourself pretty good.” Holt pulled his chair closer, rested his hand on her knee. “Smart move coming here when you saw Michael sniffing around.”
Naiya pushed at his hand, but he held her fast, stroking his thumb along the inside of her thigh.
“What was I supposed to do?” Her voice rose in pitch. “Go to the police? I may have been living a civilian life, but I spent six years with the Black Jacks. I know the kind of power the clubs have. I know how things work. And I know I’ll be happy when I leave town and get away from all things MC.”
“You also know you gotta listen to your man. And your man wants you to stay with the Sinners until I’ve dealt with Viper.” Holt tilted her head back with one finger under her chin, then leaned in and kissed her, his free hand ready to grab her wrist if she tried to slap him.