Page 12 of Racer (Iron Rogues MC #15)

RACER

A nother race. Another win. Another chance to draw out the motherfucker responsible for the destruction happening around us.

Over the past two weeks, if I wasn’t racing, I was working the circuit with Kane.

Getting to know the owners of the other teams, we felt out which ones we thought would be allies when the time came to sabotage Franklin’s operation.

And I spent a fair amount of time trying to fuck my baby into Emily so she was permanently tied to me.

There hadn’t been a single condom between us since that first night I got inside her sweet pussy.

Tonight had been more telling than usual.

During the race, two of the drivers were clearing the track by running other cars off the road or clipping them at just the right angle to cause them to spin out.

They were acting like blockers protecting their quarterback—one of Dion Cavern’s racers.

We already knew he was so fucking crooked I didn’t know how he walked straight.

But Kane’s money guy, Tyre, had been monitoring his bets, and we’d seen him getting chummy with Franklin.

Then the two offensive players had fallen behind Cavern’s guy just seconds before the finish line.

They’d done a good job making it look natural, as though the quarterback had simply outmaneuvered them and got a burst of speed.

I’d bided my time, letting them think they were keeping me in line with their bullshit.

Then when they were trying to set up the win, I did my thing—crossing the finish line with a flourish. And damn, it was pretty.

All three drivers had glared at me with murder in their eyes. But when Cavern stepped out of the pit and started screaming at them, they cowered and looked around with fear.

The crowd was dispersing, voices echoing off the concrete walls in the parking lot as I wiped my hands on a rag and walked toward the back of the parking lot, where one of the crew had parked the Chevelle after my heat.

Edge had taken Emily back to her place to grab more of her stuff.

I’d pretty much moved her in with me, though I wasn’t sure if she’d realized it yet.

She’d looked back at me when she slid into Edge’s ’66 Shelby Cobra, as if she didn’t want to leave, and something about that fucking look settled too deep in my chest. I wasn’t used to soft glances or needing someone close just to breathe easier.

But without her, I felt like I was always seconds away from unraveling.

I climbed behind the wheel of the Chevelle and was just about to turn the key when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Two big fuckers peeled away from the shadows at the end of the lot, heads low and shoulders squared.

Shit. I was in no mood to put up with these jackasses.

These were the same pricks who’d cornered Emily in the pit. Dez Franklin’s muscle—enforcers who’d been around since their boss was just a low-end bookie snapping kneecaps over two-hundred-dollar bets. Now that he ran a whole fucking crew, Dez seemed to think that made him untouchable.

I slid out of the car and leaned against the door casually, as though I didn’t feel the shift in the air. Like I wasn’t already prepped to whip out my gun from the holster or the spring-loaded blade I kept tucked in my waistband.

“You boys lost?” I asked, keeping my tone even. Not friendly, not hostile, just calm enough to be unsettling.

The taller one smirked like a cocky asshole who truly believed he could intimidate me.

Fucking morons.

“Just thought we’d offer a little friendly advice,” he sneered.

“Friendly?” I raised a brow. “Sure you fuckers know what that word means?”

The shorter, stocky one spit on the pavement and stepped closer. “Throw the next race.”

I chuckled. Couldn’t help it. The fucking balls on these guys. “That your advice?”

“Yeah,” the tall one said, stepping beside him now. “You’ve been drawing too much attention. Winning too much. You keep that up, and the wrong people are gonna get real twitchy. We’ve got the winners picked, and you ain’t one of ’em.”

“I’ll sleep better knowing Dez Franklin’s crew is worried about my lap times,” I said, pushing off the car with a lazy stretch. “Tell your boss I don’t take requests.”

“Should reconsider,” the stocky one muttered. “You don’t wanna end up like the last guy who said no.”

Something in his voice changed. He sounded a little too satisfied and oddly specific.

Something crawled up my spine, and every part of me stilled.

“Yeah?” I tilted my head. “And who was that?”

He grinned, showing off stained and crooked teeth. “Pretty boy driver. Probably would’ve been a star. But he thought he could play hero, and now he’s gonna wake up in the ICU.” He snickered, and my trigger finger twitched. “If he wakes up at all.”

Son of a fucking bitch.

They were talking about Axle.

I straightened to my full height, which was a few inches taller than either of them. Then I took a slow step forward, keeping a tight rein on my rage, only letting them see a hint of it in my eyes.

“You just made a hell of a mistake,” I said, my voice dark and deadly.

Both of them looked confused as I closed the distance and got in their faces, my expression flat and lethal, gun in hand, hanging at my side.

“Made one hell of a screwup, boy,” I grunted. “Now I know for sure who the fuck put my woman’s brother in that coma.” Shaking my head in mock disappointment, I casually racked the slide on my Glock. “Rookie move with a death wish.”

They tensed, their eyes sliding down to the barrel glinting in the moonlight.

I let the silence stretch just long enough for them to feel the threat coiling around every word.

Then I shrugged and muttered, “You assholes aren’t worth the cleanup,” before I pointed my gun at the tall one.

Mentally grinning, I used the mag release, chuckling when he dropped his shoulders in visible relief.

I racked the slide again, and the bullet in the chamber popped into my hand before I pulled the slide one more time.

Then I turned and got into the car, flashing a grin as I cranked the engine.

“Tell your boss I’ll be real disappointed if he doesn’t come himself next time,” I called over the roar of the Chevelle.

“Been a while since I put someone in the dirt for fun.” I turned up the AC and smirked as I wiped sweat from my brow.

“Suppose there are a couple of benefits to living in this fiery level of hell. Alligators make disappearing a body a lot more interesting.”

I peeled out and left them standing in a cloud of dust and burnt rubber. By the time I got back to the garage, my jaw was tight enough to crack and my pulse was thundering. The need to cause someone soul-deep pain vibrated through my body.

Only one person was gonna be able to give me peace. I needed to get back to the clubhouse. I needed my woman.

The only thing that had kept me from turning those two bastards into pavement stains was knowing she was safe and waiting for me.

I swapped the Chevelle for my Harley, then gunned the engine and let the wind cut through the heat like a blade.

When I rolled up, the compound buzzed with post-race energy. Inside, the lounge was packed with Redline Kings watching the earlier broadcast of the NHRA Pro Stock Motorcycle race on the big screen.

Kane was sprawled on one of the leather couches, a beer in hand and his boots on the table. His arm was around Emily, who was curled up beside him with a bowl of popcorn in her lap, a faint smile playing on her lips.

My hand nearly went for my gun again, but I reminded myself that Kane and Edge saw her as a sister. It didn’t help much, just enough to keep me from putting him in a closed casket.

I walked over to them and growled, “Unless you can ride without hands, take them off my woman.”

Kane smirked but removed his arm.

Emily’s eyes found mine, and her smile faltered as if she could feel the storm rolling off me and knew I needed her. She stood, handed Edge the popcorn, and crossed to me without hesitation. No questions. Just trust. Damn, I fucking loved her.

I took her hand and led her down the hall, straight to our room. Once inside, I kicked the door shut behind us and sat on the edge of the bed before tugging her onto my lap.

She came easily, her legs straddling mine, and her hands resting lightly on my chest.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

Just the sound of her voice calmed the turmoil inside me. I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my chin on her shoulder, taking a breath before I told her about the two assholes in the parking lot.

Then I paused, dreading what I had to say next.

“Jude?”

“They admitted to putting Axle in the hospital.”

Emily’s body stiffened in my arms, and her fingers clenched in the fabric of my shirt.

“They did that to him?” Her voice cracked.

“Yeah,” I said gently, brushing loose strands of hair away from her face. “Your brother stood up to them. Told ’em to fuck off. So they made an example out of him.”

“I knew it,” she murmured. “I knew he didn’t make a mistake on the track.”

“Never doubted it. But now you know for sure.”

She sucked in a shaky breath, closing her eyes as she tried to process it. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

I rubbed slow circles along her back, grounding her like she did for me. “Because he’s your big brother, angel. And no matter how badass he knows you are, he’s still gonna want to protect you.”

Her shoulders dropped slightly, and when I kissed her forehead, she let out a sigh that sounded like she’d been holding her breath for days.

“I should’ve checked the car more thoroughly,” she whispered, finally opening her eyes and looking into mine. The sadness and guilt filling them sent something sharp through my chest.