Page 15 of Nitro (Redline Kings MC #3)

NITRO

T he street hummed like an engine idling before it ripped loose.

The Florida heat hadn’t let up all day, and by nightfall, it was clinging to the asphalt, shimmering under the crooked streetlamps that lined the abandoned strip of road we used for races when the speedway wasn’t the place.

Smoke curled from grills set up by locals, music thumped heavily out of open trunks, and engines revved as crews tuned and teased their machines for the run.

It was invite-only, the kind of thing you didn’t stumble into unless you knew the right people.

And everyone here tonight knew the Redline Kings owned this pavement.

I parked the Harley at the edge of the lot and let the engine tick down.

Jana swung her leg off the back, boots hitting the ground with a sound that cut straight through the chaos in my head.

She wore cutoffs that left too much pale skin for my peace of mind and a black tank top smeared with grease from earlier at The Pit.

Hair tied up, fire-red strands still falling loose, freckles catching the light like they wanted to be counted one by one.

She looked like temptation with oil under her nails.

She also looked like she belonged here.

“Crowd’s bigger than I expected,” she muttered, scanning the rows of cars, the clusters of drivers and their crews.

“They heard about you,” I explained, my voice low, and my eyes never leaving her. “Girl shows up and smokes half my rookies and a couple of veterans? Then does it again, over and over? Word spreads.”

Her mouth twitched, half pride, half nerves. “Good.”

Good. She was hungry for it. That was the piece of her I recognized right off the bat—the obsession, the way the noise of the crowd faded when you slid behind the wheel or gripped a set of handlebars. That tunnel vision meant nothing else mattered but speed.

I slung an arm over her shoulders and steered her toward the line where Gauge was checking tires and Drift was leaning against the hood of Jana’s car like he owned it.

“You break it, she’ll break you,” Drift warned me with a grin.

She shot him a look sharp enough to peel paint. “If you don’t move your ass off my car, I’m pretty sure he’ll be the one breaking you.”

The brothers laughed. I didn’t. I was too focused on her as she slid behind the wheel, helmet loose in her lap, eyes fixed down the strip of road like it was hers already.

When the starter dropped the rag, she launched.

Smooth. Clean. Like the car was an extension of her body.

She didn’t just drive fast—she dominated.

Every gear shift was instinct, every line she took was perfect.

She hit the end and came back grinning, fire in her cheeks, freckles glowing like embers.

Flawless. Again.

The crowd roared. She climbed out, tossing the helmet on the hood, hair spilling down, chest heaving from adrenaline. She looked alive in a way that made my chest ache.

That was when I felt it—the shift in the air.

Not from the crowd. From the car that eased up behind the line of parked rides, headlights cutting across the asphalt before shutting off. The driver’s door opened, and a man stepped out.

I knew him before Jana even turned.

Her brother.

The Skulls in his cut were faded but still there, stitched to the leather like a scar that wouldn’t heal.

“Jana,” he called, his voice rough with something that wasn’t just anger.

She froze. I saw her shoulders stiffen, her spine straighten, and every wall she’d ever built slammed back into place. Then she turned slowly, arms crossed, chin high.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Her tone was like acid.

He took a step closer, ignoring me. “I heard you’ve been running with the Redline Kings. I came to warn you about them. You don’t know who you’re really mixed up with. Let me take you home before it’s too late.”

Her laugh was sharp and cutting. “Home? You think I have a home with you? With them?” She jabbed a finger at his chest, fury blazing. “Where the fuck was my family when you tossed me out the second I wasn’t your responsibility anymore? When you stopped pretending I mattered?”

His jaw worked. He looked gutted, but he didn’t back down. “I loved you, Jana. I still do. But you know what I was born into. Everyone expected me to patch in. I had no choice.”

“No choice?” Her voice broke, then hardened again.

“You had one. You used me as your excuse not to patch for years, made me believe that when the time came, you’d walk away from them.

Then, the second I was old enough to be on my own, you put that cut on like it was all you ever wanted.

Don’t tell me you didn’t know it would break us. You chose them over me.”

His voice cracked, low. “I hated it. But you’ve done better without me. Better than I ever could’ve given you.”

“Exactly,” I cut in, stepping forward, planting myself between them. “So leave her the fuck alone.”

His eyes snapped to me, narrowing as heat sparked. “You think you can stand there and tell me what she needs? She’s my blood.”

“She’s mine,” I said flatly. “You lost your chance when you left her behind.”

His lip curled. He looked at Jana again, desperation in his voice. “Come home with me. You’re strong enough now. If you’re ready to handle MC life, we can be family again.”

She shook her head, eyes burning. “No. You don’t get to decide when I’m ready. I built this on my own. Without you. Without him.” She jabbed a finger toward the ghost of their father in his cut. “I don’t need either of you.”

He started to argue, and I snapped, stepping so close he had to tilt his chin up to meet my eyes. “Say one more word to her, and I’ll light your car on fire with you in it.”

The silence after was heavy enough to choke on. His jaw flexed, fists tightening, but he didn’t move. Not with my eyes locked on him.

For a long moment, I thought we’d throw down right there. The crowd around us shifted uneasily, sensing the violence in the air.

But then he looked at Jana again, and his whole face softened. He looked like the brother she remembered, for just a second.

“I do love you. If you ever change your mind?—”

“I won’t,” she cut in, voice sharp as a blade.

His throat worked. He gave a slow nod, as if it hurt to do so, then turned and walked back to his car. The engine fired, rough and loud, and he pulled away without looking back.

The crowd exhaled all at once, the tension bleeding off into mutters and engines revving again.

Jana stood frozen, arms still crossed, chin high, but I saw the tremor in her fingers. The way her eyes glistened before she blinked hard.

I closed the distance in two strides and pulled her into my chest. She went stiff for half a second, then broke—soft sobs muffled against my cut, tears soaking into leather I’d bled on before but never let anyone else mark.

I wrapped her tight, one hand splayed between her shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of her head. I didn’t say shit at first, just held her while the weight of years poured out of her in ragged breaths.

When her sobs quieted, I bent low, voice rough against her hair. “He’s gone. He can’t touch you. Not now, not ever again. You’ve got me. You’ve got the Kings. That’s family. The only kind that matters.”

She shivered, then clutched my shirt in her fists like she was holding on for dear life. I pressed my lips to her temple, tasting salt and heat, and held her until her breathing steadied.

Around us, the night roared back to life—engines, cheers, smoke curling into the sky. But in my arms, she was silent, steady, and mine.

And I swore to myself, as sure as any oath I’d ever taken in that clubhouse, that no one—not a Skull, not her past, not even blood—would ever make her doubt that again.