This was a really bad fucking idea.
I itched where I sat beside my best and oldest friend, Silas Mercer.
We were in Church, the cavernous room tucked in the deepest recesses of our MC clubhouse.
A long, rustic wood table sat in the middle, surrounded by twenty chairs.
It was where the entire club normally met, though there were only three of us since this discussion was personal.
The ceiling was so high you could barely make it out above us, and the walls were painted with grim images that seemed to crawl and haunt the dimly-lit space.
The only light was the muted glow coming from the antique chandelier that hung high above.
Good thing.
Maybe then Silas wouldn’t notice that I was sweating an arsenal of bullets.
“You know there’s not a soul I trust more to watch out for my little sister.” Silas’s voice was low and emphasized.
From the opposite side of the table, Phoenix grunted in agreement. All dark and surly, the way he always was.
He was our MC’s Sergeant-at-Arms and a part of our innermost circle. Nicknamed Madman because the guy had a propensity for coming unhinged.
“You really think this is the right time for her to move out?” I asked. “There’s enough going down at the club without adding this into the mix.”
Yeah, I was pushing back. I doubted anyone would blame me if they knew the half of it.
Guilt climbed up to take a front-row seat in my throat.
Strike that.
Silas would absolutely blame me if he knew even a fraction. Just as he should. Which was why there would be no repeating past mistakes. I could swallow it down and take the pain.
But this? How much could a man take before he imploded?
Antsy, Silas roughed a hand through his brown hair. “Know it’s not the best time with that piece of shit who slipped through our fingers, but like Elena said, there’s never a good time with us. There is always going to be danger.”
Four months ago, our secret society had taken out an entire criminal organization.
Decimated the whole lot.
Except for one.
We found out their leader’s brother had escaped, and the scum had disappeared without a trace.
Past experience told us he would likely show up, looking for revenge.
Anxiety passed between the three of us before Silas blew out a sigh and looked me point-blank. “I can’t keep putting her off. She needs this, which is why I’m relying on you to keep her safe.”
“And when I have raids? We’re scheduled to hit Portland in just a few days.” We had a big mission coming up, and I didn’t want to neglect my duties to the Crimson Crows.
Or maybe I was only looking for an excuse.
“We’ll bring her back here to the compound whenever you can’t be with her and post a guard outside her apartment whenever you need to slip out for a bit.”
“Why don’t you have Phoenix assigned to the task?” I gestured with my chin at our brother. His hair was as black as his eyes. Bulky as fuck and his pale skin covered in dark tattoos. Knuckles of both hands stamped with Madman.
Dude was far more sadistic than me, and I was little less than a psychopath. I just looked a ton more genial when devolving into wickedness.
Phoenix grunted. “Did your balls shrink three sizes or what?”
“My balls are intact, thank you very much.”
I just didn’t want them to get chopped off and shoved up my ass when this thing went south.
Distance was best, but that distance was getting harder and harder to facilitate.
Silas basically fucking snorted. “I think it’s safe to say Elena is more comfortable with you.”
No fucking shit.
It was me who was going to be crawling out of my damned skin.
“Need you to do this for me,” Silas finally said. His words drove a hot blade of guilt into my conscience.
“I won’t be able to focus on the club and the jobs coming up if I’m worried about her well-being. I want her to experience life beyond the compound’s walls, but I also can’t stand the thought of any motherfuckers using her. She’s too good. Too innocent.” Rage shimmered around him. “And I won’t let her fall prey to that.”
Granite lined his words, and his hazel eyes flashed. “I expect you to cut down anyone who’s stupid enough to try.”
My teeth ground as I beat myself into submission.
Did I really want anyone else charged with her care? This was Elena we were talking about.
I swallowed around the barbs, sure of the kind of torture this was going to be. But if I was being honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
No matter the cost.
“Of course, Prez. You know you can count on me,” I managed.
“Good.” He rapped a fist on the table like we were signing a deal.
One signed in blood since we all knew it was my life riding on this.
Silas and Phoenix pushed back from their heavy chairs, and I followed suit, though my stride was sluggish as I followed them out the massive double doors. It led out to a rambling hall that stretched between Church and the club’s bar at the farthest end.
In between were a slew of rooms where Crows could crash if they’d given themselves over to a little too much revelry, and a few lived here that didn’t have another place.
Our motorcycle club, the Crimson Crows, had been established after Silas, Phoenix, and I had left a brutal MC out in LA.
When we discovered we couldn’t walk down that treacherous path any longer. Not that what we did was any more forgivable, but now we had a way to pay for our sins.
Our boots thudded on the floors and echoed down the long hall.
Silas was at the head as usual since he was our president.
The cut he wore proclaimed it.
The patch on his back showing off our logo.
Three crows sitting on a headstone with blood dripping from their talons.
Another danced on the grave below.
Crimson Crows arched over the top of the scene and President was stitched on the bottom.
I might have been the vice president, but mine was marked with my nickname.
Heathen.
A name that had been given to me years back and had stuck.
Silas pushed through the swinging door at the end into the club’s bar.
Since it was the middle of the day, there were very few Crows loitering about.
It resembled your typical dive bar. A long bar running the space to my right, a stage on the backside, a few pool tables and round high-tops taking up the middle, and dingy couches lining the walls.
Silas kept blazing right on through.
A man on a mission.
While I wanted to hang back and climb into a hole.
No time for that since he went shoving out the double swinging doors and into the light of day.
The lush, soaring trees that surrounded the area were set in a soft sway, and the normal bonfire that raged at night below them had been doused.
There were only three motorcycles sitting in the semicircle usually created by a couple dozen or more of them.
This time of day tended to be calm.
But I could feel the storm off to my left.
A glittering, billowy storm made up of a riot of colors.
Excitement radiated off Elena as she hollered my name. “Trevan! Are you ready for this?”
I wondered if she had any clue how fucking sultry her voice was.
She gestured to her new truck.
A gray Tacoma.
A prezzie from the prez.
It was loaded with a few suitcases since we’d already moved most of her things to her new apartment.
She hooked a hand on the tailgate and leaned to the side, basically allowing it to hold up her weight, and her face I had a hard time looking at since she was so damned beautiful glowed with the energy she always exuded.
She was dressed in high-waisted jeans and a pink crop top, white tennis shoes on her feet, and her hair dyed close to black was pleated into a long braid.
Innocent and sweet and far too sexy for her own good.
Then she delivered the words like she knew exactly what they would do to me.
“I can’t wait for us to be roomies!”