Page 3

Emmy

My heels clicked against the worn linoleum of the Summit Youth Center, the familiar hum of voices and laughter filling the air. Once I graduated, this place had been my sanctuary, the one piece of stability in a world that had never stopped shifting beneath my feet since I left the Kings and all their chaos. Here, I had purpose—helping kids who were dangerously close to falling through the cracks. Right now, I needed that purpose to anchor me.

“Carter!”

The sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts just as a woman stepped into my path, an arched brow daring me to keep walking.

Maya Diaz.

Damn it. Maya knew me too well. But that was no surprise as she had been by my side since college, back when my relationship with Austin ended, and the impossible dream of building a life outside the club started.

“Are you gonna tell me why you look like you just walked out of a crime scene, or am I gonna have to shake it out of you?” Maya demanded, dark eyes scanning me like a human lie detector.

I’d gotten back late last night. The hour drive home had given me too much time to reflect on seeing Austin again. To remember. Then I hadn’t been able to fall asleep until almost four in the morning.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Not a crime scene. Just a bad idea in the form of my past.”

Her expression softened just a fraction. “Austin?”

Of course, she knew. Maya had been there after the breakup, had been the one to drag me out of bed, ply me with tequila, and swear on everything holy that one day I’d find a man who wouldn’t make me feel like I was competing with an entire motorcycle club.

Maya shook her head and tugged me into my office. “Alright, spill. And don’t even try to downplay it.”

Inside the small, cluttered space, Maya flopped onto the couch while I sat behind the desk, hands twisting in my lap.

“He’s helping me find Luke.”

Maya’s eyes narrowed. “Helping you… or letting you think you’re helping while he pulls the strings?”

I bristled. “I’m not some clueless girl who’s gonna let him run the show. If Austin wants to keep me on a leash, he’s in for a rude awakening.”

She smiled gleefully. “Damn right he is.” But then her expression sobered. “Look, I get it. Luke’s your blood. I’d do the same if it were my brother. But are you sure about this? Going back into that world?”

The short answer? Hell, no. “I don’t have a choice, Maya. If the club is tied to what happened to Luke, I need to know.”

Maya stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “Just promise me one thing. Be careful. And don’t let Austin get in your head again.”

Too late.

The memory of his touch, his voice, the way he had always made me feel like the center of his world—even when I knew I wasn’t—stabbed into me like a phantom ache.

“I won’t,” I lied.

Maya rolled her eyes. “That was the least convincing thing I’ve ever heard. But fine, I’ll let it slide for now.”

Never one to sit around, I worked through my lunch break and left for the day early to check out Luke’s place. That meant another drive, but I was determined to get answers. My heart raced when I found his door unlocked.

That was the first red flag.

I hesitated in the hallway, my pulse hammering. I had been here plenty of times, had helped Luke move in after I left for college, and he sold the home we had both been born in to subsidize my education. He had never been careless—not after the life we grew up with.

My fingers tightened around the handle of the door before I slowly pushed it open. Inside, the apartment was a disaster.

Luke was never known to be neat, but this? This wasn’t just a mess. The coffee table was overturned, glass shattered across the rug. One of the kitchen chairs was missing a leg, and the cushions on the couch had been slashed open.

A lump formed in my throat. Someone was looking for something. Or sending a message. I took a step inside, heart pounding. If Luke was here when this happened?—

A sound behind me had me spinning.

Austin.

He stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his stance all casual confidence, but his eyes… his eyes missed nothing.

“Are you following me?” I asked the obvious question.

He didn’t flinch. “Just a coincidence. Thought I’d missed something the first time I was here so I came to see if I could find anything. This has happened recently; it wasn’t like this before.”

My pulse jumped from his nearness. I turned back toward the apartment, gesturing at the wreckage. “Whoever did this, they were looking for something.”

Austin’s gaze swept over the scene, his jaw tightening. “Or to send a message.”

My gaze landed on the slashed pillow cushions. The message was blatantly obvious. What was my brother mixed up in? “I’ll go talk to his neighbors and see if they heard or saw anything.”

He took a step closer, crowding into my space, the heat of him wrapping around me like a warning. “No the hell you won’t. You’re going to stay out of it. Because you don’t know when to back off, Emmy.”

“I have to, Austin. I can’t just let it go. This could be the way we find him.”

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then Austin let out a breath, breaking the silence between us. “You never could walk away from a fight,” he murmured, eyes locked on to mine. “Especially not one that matters.”

His voice was steady, but there was something beneath it—a quiet intensity that made my chest feel too tight. He wasn’t trying to talk me down. He was meeting me there.

Once upon a time, I had wished for exactly that—for him to stand beside me, to choose me over the club, to put us first. To include me.

And when he hadn’t… I forced myself to accept it.

But now it felt different, and I didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust him. Didn’t trust myself. I stepped past him, my shoulder barely grazing his as I moved toward the door. “Let’s start with Mr. Goldberg. You don’t need to go. I can do it by myself. I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Austin didn’t try to stop me, but his words followed me.

“Too bad, Emmy,” he said. “You’ve got one.”

My steps carried me out of the apartment, my pulse was racing for all the wrong reasons. And that terrified me more than anything.

On the drive home, my mind worked overtime on why someone would trash Luke’s apartment. We’d come up blank with the neighbors. No one had seen or heard the break-in. But that wasn’t all that was on my mind. All too often, my thoughts went straight to Austin. How that man could get under my skin.

When I got home, I locked my door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly as I pressed my palms against the cool wood. My heart still pounded, the ghost of Austin’s voice lingering in my head.

Too bad. You’ve got one.

Damn him.

I shoved off the door and tossed my bag onto the kitchen counter, rolling my shoulders to shake off the tension. It didn’t work. My mind was still tangled up in the past, memories creeping in the moment I let my guard down.

I hadn’t seen Austin in years. Had spent all that time convincing myself I was over him. That I’d moved on.

But standing in that apartment, feeling his presence settle over me like a weight I couldn’t shrug off, I had to face the awful truth. I hadn’t moved on at all because no man had ever come close.

I let out a bitter laugh and walked to the fridge, pulling out a half-empty bottle of wine. No glass. I twisted the cap off and took a swig, welcoming the cool relief.

There had been others, of course. A few flings. One almost-relationship that had lasted six months before I ended it. I knew it was going nowhere. I felt bad about it because he was a really great guy. I could have been happy with him long-term, but I wanted more than just happiness. He deserved more than someone settling for him.

It took me years to understand why. No matter how good a man was, no matter how much sense we made on paper, none of them was Austin.

And in bed?

God help me, I’d tried to find someone who could match him. Someone who could push me to the edge the way he had. Someone who could wreck me. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it was too late. The memories hit me fast and hard.

The way he used to look at me across a crowded room, the heat in his gaze setting my blood on fire. The way he’d back me against a wall, his voice rough with need as he murmured in my ear, “ You know how this ends, Em. So stop pretending you don’t want it.”

The way he could take me apart with nothing but his hands and that wicked, talented mouth. I braced my hands against the countertop, inhaling harsh breaths. He had ruined me for anyone else. The worst part was I had let him. I’d begged him even.

With a frustrated groan, I took another drink straight from the bottle and stalked to the couch. Flipping on the TV, I scrolled aimlessly, trying to find something—anything—to distract me from the ache in my chest.

Because I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to sit here and drown in memories of a man who had never been able to choose me the way I had once chosen him. I would not let Austin King do this to me again.

My phone buzzed, breaking through my thoughts. Frowning, I grabbed it off the coffee table and glanced at the screen.

Unknown Number.

I stared at the message, my pulse a steady but rapid thud in my ears.

Meet me at Juno’s Tavern. 10 PM.

No name. No explanation. But I knew. Luke… or someone who knew what happened to him.

My stomach twisted as I clutched the phone in my fist. It could be a trap. It could be nothing. But if there was even the smallest chance that it could lead me to my brother, I had to take it.

A voice in the back of my head whispered that I should call someone. But who?

The cops? They hadn’t done a damn thing when I reported Luke missing. The Kings? Austin?

Hell, no. I didn’t need them. I could handle this on my own.

I grabbed my jacket off the back of the couch and threw it on, checking my reflection in the mirror by the door. I looked normal. Maybe a little tense, my brown eyes darker than usual, lips pressed into a firm line. I took a breath, trying to relax the tightness in my chest, and pulled my wavy brown hair into a loose ponytail.

My gun sat in the small safe tucked away on the top shelf of the closet by the entryway. I had to move a stack of blankets and books out of the way and then I hesitated. I’d never carried before, never wanted to be the kind of person who needed a weapon. Luke had made sure I knew how to handle a gun and shoot accurately. He was the reason I had it in the first place, insisting a single woman living on her own needed one. I wasn’t afraid to do what was necessary in a life-and-death situation.

This was different, though. This wasn’t just about me.

Shaking off my doubt, I grabbed the safe, punched in the code, and pulled the small Glock out, along with a loaded magazine. The weight of it felt strange, but reassuring. After sliding the magazine into place and racking the slide, I tucked the pistol into the inside pocket of my jacket and stepped out the door.

The night air was cool against my skin as I climbed into my car, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. I wasn’t looking forward to another long drive, but at least it was only about an hour to Juno’s. With every passing mile, the tension in my gut twisted tighter.

I parked down the block, scanning the lot outside the bar. A few bikes lined the front—none I recognized—but it wasn’t packed. Juno’s wasn’t the kind of place that saw a weekend crowd. It was dark, a little rundown, mostly locals.

A place for men who wanted to be left alone.

I was about thirty minutes early, so I sat in the car, jumping at every little sound. Finally, at five minutes before ten, I swallowed past the lump in my throat and stepped out of the car. My boots hit the pavement, the sound drowned out by the low hum of music spilling out when someone pushed through the bar’s front door.

I forced myself forward, slipping inside and letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting.

Juno’s smelled like cheap beer and fried food, the air thick with cigarette smoke and pot. A couple of men sat hunched over the bar, a few more scattered at tables along the walls. A pool game was in progress near the back, but no one paid me any attention.

Good.

I kept my steps steady, scanning the room for anyone who looked like they might be waiting for me. Nothing.

I reached the bar and flagged down the bartender, a woman in her fifties with dyed red hair and assessing eyes.

“Club soda,” I said, climbing onto a stool.

She gave me a knowing smirk but didn’t comment, just poured my drink and slid it over.

Minutes ticked by. The ice in my drink melted. And the feeling that I’d just made a huge mistake grew stronger with each second. I was about to leave when I felt it.

A presence. Heavy. Familiar. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and before I even turned around, I knew who I’d see. Knew it before I heard the slow, measured steps of his boots against the wooden floor. Before the heat of his body ghosted over my skin as he stepped up beside me. Before his voice sent a shiver down my spine.

“Didn’t take you long to get yourself into trouble.”

I turned my head, meeting Austin’s storm-blue eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “You really gotta ask?”

My heart pounded. “You had me followed.”

“Of course I did.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

Austin let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Come on, Em. I’ve known you half your life. You really think I didn’t know you’d run straight into the fire the first chance you got? You should be impressed that I got here so quick.”

My hands curled into fists beneath the bar. Damn him.

I forced a breath through my nose, keeping my voice level. “Like I’ve already told you, I don’t need a babysitter or a bodyguard.”

He leaned in, the scent of leather and smoke emanating from him so familiar. “Yeah? Then why do I get the feeling you wouldn’t have made it out of here tonight if I hadn’t shown up?”

A slow, awful realization settled in my gut. I had been set up.

The person who texted me wasn’t here. And either they’d changed their mind, or they never planned on showing at all.

Austin read the shift in my expression instantly. His jaw ticked. “That’s what I thought.”

I slid off the stool, my body tight with frustration. “I can handle myself.”

His hand shot out, catching my wrist. He didn’t grip hard, but the weight of his touch sent a shiver up my arm.

“Not against people who want you dead, Em.”

I tried to yank free, but he didn’t let go. Not until I stopped fighting. Not until I looked up at him and saw the fear almost hidden beneath the anger in his eyes.

For an endless moment, neither of us moved. I felt the heat of his touch linger after he let me go. His body was close, the warmth of him attacking my senses, stirring up memories I had no business thinking about right now.

Austin's gaze searched my face, asking, and demanding something I wasn’t sure I could give. His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, but the tightness in his shoulders betrayed him. He was holding back.

I could feel it.

Then, with a rough exhale, he took a step back, severing the invisible thread pulling us together.

“We’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question.

I stiffened. “I didn’t agree to that.”

“Too bad.” His jaw ticked as he stared me down. “You’ve got my protection whether you want it or not.”

I hated how easily he could do this—walk in like he still had some kind of claim on me. He gave that up years ago.

But what I hated more was the way my body responded. No matter how much I wanted to fight him, a part of me—the part I’d buried deep—felt steadier with him here.

I grit my teeth, shoving down the unwanted warmth creeping up my spine. “You don’t get to decide what I do, Austin.”

“I’m not deciding for you,” he said. “I’m making sure you don’t get yourself killed before you find Luke. He’d be really pissed at me if I let that happen.”

A lump formed in my throat at the mention of my brother, the reminder of why I was here in the first place.

I wanted to argue, to push back just to prove that he didn’t have control over me. But the truth settled heavy in my chest—someone had lured me here tonight, and if Austin hadn’t shown up…

I didn’t finish the thought. Instead, I let out a ragged breath, pushed past him, and made for the door.

He followed, a silent shadow at my back.

The cool night air hit me as soon as I stepped outside. It should have been a relief, a break from the suffocating atmosphere of the bar, but it wasn’t. Not with Austin right behind me. Not with the way the night suddenly felt darker, more dangerous.

My boots scuffed against the pavement as I came to a stop beside my car. I could feel him watching me, waiting.

I turned my head slightly, catching the outline of his profile in the dim glow of the streetlights. Strong jaw. Broad shoulders. Those damn blue eyes that had always been my weakness.

The same man I had walked away from all those years ago. The same man who had let me walk away.

Austin shifted, sliding his hands into his pockets like he had all the time in the world. “You coming, or do I have to throw you over my bike?”

“Try it, and I’ll break your nose.”

The bastard smirked. “Now that’s the Emmy I remember.”

A flicker of something—nostalgia, regret, maybe both—passed between us, but I ignored it. Right now, none of that mattered.

Right now, all that mattered was figuring out who the hell had set me up.