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As time clicks by, the painfully slow realization of the reality of my situation sets in. Ice isn’t what I want. Not really. If I’m chained to him then I haven’t escaped this world at all. For all I know, he is just as bad, if not worse than Juan. I don’t know anything about Ice or his club. I don’t know what they do. He claims to be one of the good guys, but is he?

I make my way to a secluded corner, where the shadows cling to the walls. I let myself breathe for just a moment. The fog of desire is clouding my judgement. I must keep my head clear because these women and those children are depending on me. Becoming obsessed with a man won’t help anyone. Not those women or children, and certainly not me. I have to remember that.

As I square my shoulders, the weight of responsibility settles back onto them, as familiar and heavy as a bulletproof vest. It’s time to put on the mask again, to become the Isabella everyone expects—the dutiful sister, the ruthless cartel queen. Self-control is all I have left. It’s the only thing standing between me and disaster. And as much as I want Ice, as much as I think I need him, I have to keep my desires locked away if I intend to survive.

Chapter 11: Ice

The neon sign above Velvet buzzes behind me, throwing a lurid glow over the deserted parking lot. I’m leaning against my bike when Isabella’s ringtone cuts through the sound of mating frogs croaking in the night. I snatch my phone from my pocket and glance at the screen. Isabella’s name flashes across it.

“Talk to me, Bella,” I say as soon as I hit answer, the concern in my voice belying the calm I’m trying to project.

“Someone’s following me. A black SUV, it’s been tailing me for the last few blocks.” Her voice is tight with panic. “I’m pretty sure it’s one of my brother’s men.”

“Where are you right now?”

“Corner of Dauphine and Conti,” she spits out quickly.

I know exactly where she is, but I won’t be able to get to her for at least ten minutes.

“Head to Jackson Square, now. There’ll be people around,” I instruct, jumping on my bike. The engine roars to life, echoing my racing heart. The Bluetooth in my helmet clicks on, keeping us connected. “Stay on the line until I reach you.”

“Okay.”

I gun the throttle and peel out into the street. My mind races faster than my bike, calculating my next move, searching for safe havens. We can’t go to Vapor’s place. Keeping his wife and unborn child safe is of the utmost importance, so that’s out. NOLA Inn, our temporary stronghold, sits smack in the French Quarter’s pulsating heart. It’s an option, but only as a last resort.I can’t risk leading danger to our doorstep, not after what went down with the last clubhouse. However, if that’s the only place available, we’ll have to go there. At least we’ll have the numbers to defend ourselves. Most of the club’s guys are staying there, so it’s a solid backup option.

“Still with me, Bella?” I ask, weaving through the late-night traffic.

“Y-Yes. I’m turning onto Decatur now,” she stammers.

“Good girl. Keep heading to the square.”

As I near Jackson Square, the historic buildings loom like silent sentinels around me. I ask for another update, needing to pinpoint her exact location.

“Decatur and Wilkinson.” The tension in her voice stokes my anger. No one should be scaring her like this. It’s bullshit.

“I’m one block away. Listen closely, when you get to Dumaine, turn left. Then turn right on Chartres, then another right on St. Philip to get back to Decatur,” I command, spotting her car.

A black SUV, sinister and determined, is tailing her dangerously close. This guy can’t be a pro. Someone who knew what they were doing won’t be on her bumper. Even so, he’s a problem. I’m going to have to distract him.

“Isabella, listen to me. I’m about to make a move to shake this guy. Once you turn onto Decatur, I want you to head straight to NOLA Inn. Do you know where that’s at?”

“Yes. I’ve driven past it a bunch of times.”

“Wait for me there. And don’t leave,” I quickly add.

“Be careful, Ice,” she pleads.

“Always am,” I reply.

My chest tightens as I swerve, putting myself between the predator and its prey. My world narrows to the road, the chase, and the mission, protecting Isabella at all costs.

The black SUV looms in my mirror, an unwelcome shadow trailing me through the night. With a quick glance, I catch Isabella’s car slipping around the corner, out of sight. Now it’s just me and the hunter.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” The driver yells loud enough that I can hear his muffled words through my helmet. A flicker of movement in my mirrors—then I see it. The guy has a gun, waving it out the window like a warning.

I don’t flinch. My hand moves instinctively to my cut. Cold metal greets my palm. I pull it out and aim steadily at the tinted window of the SUV. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in a standoff. I don’t like having a gun aimed at me, but I’d rather it be me than Isabella.

The SUV driver guns his engine like he’s going to run me over. I don’t move. He can’t scare me. I’ve dealt with way worse shit in the past. He’s more of an annoyance than anything. There’s no way he’s going to shoot me with all these people around. It may be late at night, but there are plenty of drunk revelers wandering the streets. Some have stopped to watch the show.