Page 20 of Heat (The Royal HArlots MC, Quebec City-Canada #1)

Chapter Nineteen

Diamond wasn’t just shocked, she was pissed. Miscommunication was one thing, but this wasn’t a small mix-up. Going from picking up one package to three didn’t just complicate things; it jeopardized the entire operation.

She turned to Nova, searching her veep’s face for any sign she’d known about the change.

“Is there a problem, Diamond?”

Shark’s voice pulled her back. She met his gaze, keeping her tone even. “Nothing that can’t be handled.”

“I take it this wasn’t ran past you,” Shark said glancing back at the woman and her two daughters.

“Nope. I thought we were picking up a single, not a triple.” Diamond ran a hand through her hair. “Can they stay here a little longer while I make travel arrangements?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll leave my crew here to watch over them.”

“Sounds good.”

Diamond stepped away, motioning for Nova to follow. The moment they had a sliver of privacy; she dropped her voice. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

Nova glanced toward the hotel room. “We can’t walk away.”

Diamond knew that. But it didn’t mean she liked it. A deal was a deal, and surprises like this usually meant someone was playing games—or worse.

“Get Stix over here,” she said, waving the Sergeant-at-Arms over.

Stix spotted the motion and strode toward them. “You need something, Diamond?”

“Yeah. We need a cage to get the package back to Quebec City.” Diamond’s gaze flicked around the parking lot, scanning for anything out of place.

Stix frowned. “One chick can ride on the back of a sled.”

“It’s not a single,” Diamond said, voice sharp with frustration. “It’s a triple.”

Stix’s eyes widened. “What the fuck?”

“Exactly.”

“That means whoever’s driving the cage has to leave their sled behind or find someone to ride it back to the clubhouse,” Nova reminded them.

Diamond exhaled, thinking. The parking lot was packed with bikes, engines rumbling as riders rolled in and out. She had one person she could call—but could she trust them with this?

Didn’t matter. She was out of options.

Pulling her phone from her back pocket, she punched in the number of the last person she ever thought she’d be calling for help. She listened to the dial tone, jaw tight, waiting for Teller to pick up.

“Hello.”

“Teller, it’s Diamond.”

Teller smirked, casting a glance at Sayer before lazily putting the call on speaker. “Diamond, you looking for Sayer? He’s right here.”

Not in the mood.Diamond clenched her jaw, forcing her voice to stay even, “No. I need to speak with you.”

The smirk vanished. Teller’s posture shifted—subtle, but noticeable. He shook his head at Sayer and stepped away, his voice losing its casual edge. “How can I help you?”

The noise around her faded into a dull hum as Diamond focused on the weight of the conversation. Her pulse was steady, but there was a tightness coiling in her chest, a warning that things were already off-balance.

She didn’t waste time. “Can we meet?”

A beat of silence. Teller had picked up on her tone—she knew it by the way his breathing sharpened just slightly.

“Where?”

“Back at the campground.” Neutral ground. The air around her felt too still as she spoke, like the universe was holding its breath, waiting to see if this was the right call. If Teller wasn’t willing to help, she sure as hell didn’t want him anywhere near the package.

“We’re still here,” he said finally. His voice was even, but Diamond caught the undercurrent of curiosity. He wasn’t just agreeing—he was watching, waiting. She could picture him now, that calculating look in his eyes, reading between the lines.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Diamond ended the call and exhaled slowly, but the tension didn’t ease. She turned to Stix. “I’m meeting with Teller. I’ll call once I have things worked out. Find me a vehicle.”

Stix gave a sharp nod, already scanning the lot.

Diamond rolled her shoulders, trying to shake the uneasy weight settling between them. Something was wrong. Someone had changed the terms of this deal, and she hated the way it felt—like a trap waiting to be sprung.

Her boots hit the pavement with deliberate force as she strode off, each step fueled by frustration and unease. The afternoon air was cool, but it did nothing to soothe the heat prickling under her skin.

She hated walking into a meeting already feeling like she was a step behind.

Straddling her bike, Diamond slammed her helmet on, the hard plastic ringing against her skull.

Frustration burned in her veins as she fired up the engine.

The familiar rumble usually calmed her, but not tonight.

Shifting into gear, she rolled out of the parking lot and into traffic, weaving between cars with the precision of someone who had no patience for delays.

Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes to figure out how the hell she’d ended up in this mess.

Bringing Teller and the Montreal Chapter of the Royal Bastards into her business had never been on the agenda.

For years, her chapter had been running an underground railroad, smuggling abused women, children—hell, even men—out of dangerous situations and into new lives.

But never, not once, had she been blindsided like this?

A mother and two small children wasn’t what she’d been told to expect. Someone had changed things, and she’d get to the bottom of it. She’d get the answers one way or another.

The campground came into view, and she took the winding dirt path toward the Royal Bastards’ campsite.

As soon as she spotted the familiar lineup of bikes, she positioned hers next to Sayer’s and killed the engine.

Yanking off her helmet, she inhaled sharply.

She wanted a cigarette bad. But she’d quit years ago, and now wasn’t the time to start up again.

Climbing off the bike, she moved toward Teller, her boots crunching over dry dirt. She caught the look on Sayer’s face as she passed, but ignored it. This wasn’t about him. This was about her job—about the lives now depending on her.

“Teller, can we speak in private?”

“No,” his voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. He signaled for Vicious, his veep, to step over. The weight of Teller’s gaze pressed down on her, demanding an explanation.

“Alright.”

“What’s going on?”

Diamond shifted, scanning the area, instinctually checking for prying eyes. Her gaze flickered to Sayer again—lingering, then moving away just as fast. With a sigh, she met Teller’s stare.

“My chapter runs an underground railroad for abuse victims,” she said, keeping her voice low. “This weekend was supposed to be a single pickup. But the information was wrong. It’s three. Now, I’m in a pickle.”

She dragged a hand through her hair, the weight of responsibility pressing down on her shoulders. “We didn’t bring a cage. I’m getting a rental to transport them back to the clubhouse before we move them again. But I noticed you brought a cage.”

Teller’s expression didn’t shift. “And?”

“I need someone to ride my sled back to the Harlots’ clubhouse. Do you have a prospect you trust to handle that?”

Teller studied her for a moment before his gaze flicked past her, locking onto someone over her shoulder. “I do, but that’s not how this is going to be handled.”

He jerked his chin at Sayer.

Diamond’s stomach clenched.

Sayer pushed off his bike, eyes sharp as he approached. “What’s going on, Diamond?” His voice cut through the air, ignoring Teller entirely.

She straightened as Teller answered Sayer. “Would you trust Tank to ride your sled back to Quebec City?”

Sayer didn’t look away from her. “Yeah. I trust Tank.”

“Good.” Teller crossed his arms. “Diamond’s got a problem, and we’re stepping in to help her out.”

He watched Sayer. “I’ll leave her to explain the details.”

“What’s going on?” his voice dropped, serious. “And don’t dance around it.”

Diamond exhaled and told him everything, laying it out just as she had with Teller and Vicious. She expected Sayer to understand. He’d been around long enough to know how things worked.

“I’ll call one of the girls to pick me up and leave my bike for you to ride back after the rally.”

That didn’t sit with him, she could see it in the set of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes. He wasn’t letting this slide.

“I’ll bring you to pick up the car,” Sayer said, his voice steady. “Then I’ll follow you back to Quebec City.”

“You don’t have to follow me back. My chapter’s got this.”

“You’re not hearing me, Diamond.” His tone darkened, unyielding. “I’m going with you to deliver the packages to their final destination.”

“No,” her voice was firm, her stance unmovable.

Their eyes locked in silent battle, heat radiating between them. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.