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Charley blinked, looking over at the petite woman popped up on her toes reaching for the bottles on the shelf.

She didn’t answer and looked into the living room again.

The oldest of the men was staring back at her with a cigarette between his lips.

His hooded stare went right through her.

Dark, a little mysterious, and dangerous.

She’d never had much of an interest in the bad boy element, but she could understand the attraction.

He was handsome with his salt and pepper strands tied back at his nape, matching his beard.

Most women would probably find his muscular arms peeking through the cuffs of his shirt alluring. I kind of do.

He slowly lifted his hand, pointing to Inez.

“She’s talking to you.” His graveled voice almost had her mesmerized. He was older by at least fifteen years or more, but she was seeing the appeal. The corner of his mouth slowly hiked, along with his brow. Instinctively, she smiled. A muffled chuckle knocked her out of her trance.

Wait…what did he say?

A glass slammed down on the counter, and Inez pointed to it. “You don’t answer, you get vodka. Drink it.”

Oh no, no, no. Her stomach churned at the mention of alcohol.

Charley held up her hand, “Oh no, thank you.”

Her brows dipped. “I wasn’t asking.”

“I recently went to a club and indulged too much. Lots of purple drinks, which had me vomiting most of the day and running from a splitting headache I couldn’t escape. The thought of having any alcoholic beverage has my stomach queasy.”

The older woman took a drag from her cigarette, squinting. “Purple drink, huh? My vodka ain’t good enough for you, fancypants?”

Did I offend her?

Charley waved her hands. “N-no, I’m sure your vodka is…”

“Top shelf!” Inez snapped, hardening her stare.

Ohhh, I’ve definitely offended her.

“I know nothing about alcohol, but I’m sure that’s the best they make, and you shouldn’t be wasting it on me. I mean, I ate the flowers in my drink the other night. They might not have been edible. That right there is proof that I’m not a seasoned drinker, nor am I worthy of your top shelf vodka.”

Inez stared back at her for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. When she sobered up, she did her shot and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, eyeing Charley.

“You’re Penny’s girl.”

Penny’s girl made her sound like property. Still, she nodded.

Inez sat on her stool at the breakfast bar. “These are my boys. Ace, Wraith, Oak, Gent, Cross, and Ghost.”

“It’s nice to meet you all.” She gave a wave, but it wasn’t reciprocated. Except for the redhead lounging in the chair in the corner. He smiled and wiggled his fingers, though it came out mocking.

Charley cleared her throat. “I don’t want to interrupt your family time…”

One of the bikers snorted, but she didn’t know which one.

She scanned the men, purposely avoiding Gent and landing on the oldest of the men.

Ace. His arm crossed over his chest when he tapped his ashes into a tray on the side table.

The move showcased the defined muscles on the back of his bicep.

She angled her head to get a better look at his tattoos. It wasn’t a complete sleeve. But close.

“Why the hell you paying two months in advance?”

Charley pulled her stare from Ace, looking over at Inez, who was sifting through the envelope.

“It’s actually one month rent and the other is security. Penny didn’t mention how much you require, so I added the month, but if it’s more, I can…”

Inez held up her hand and Charley clamped her lips. Inez pulled out the bills, counting them and making two piles. She slapped her hand on one and moved it in front of Charley.

“You don’t want a security?”

Inez scoffed, taking a slow drag from her cigarette. “You ain’t going anywhere, and you won’t fuck up the apartment. ’Cause if you do, you’re gonna pay with a lot more than cash.”

The tone and the statement sent a shiver down her spine.

“Take the money back.”

Charley slowly leaned forward, grabbing the money and tucking it in her pocket. She was unsure of what to do next as she rocked on her heels. Inez made the choice for her.

“Are you waiting for a receipt?”

Small snickers erupted from the room, and she fought against the blush spanning over her cheeks.

She forced a smile and gave a short wave, hurrying to the door.

She grabbed the knob, turned, and pulled before realizing it was locked.

She furrowed her brows noticing two deadbolts, another three locks and a device commonly used at hotels.

Inez had clearly taken her safety seriously.

She fumbled with the first two but managed to unlock them. The third was proving to be more than challenging.

“Come on,” she whispered. “Open.”

It wasn’t until she heard his breath that she realized one of the bikers was standing behind her only inches away. She turned in the small space and pressed her back against the door, careful not to touch him. Ace made no move to back up and give her any more space.

She nervously laughed, pointing over her shoulder. “I’m having trouble with the last one.”

Ace stared back at her. He had very intense dark eyes. The kind that gave a warning without him ever saying a word.

“Last name’s Hudson, right?”

“Yes.”

“You know Cody Hudson?”

She widened her eyes. Her face had already given her a way. If she lied, he’d know.

“My brother.” She cleared her throat. “A-are you friends with him?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “No.”

Her heartbeat pounded, and she swallowed the knot in throat.

When Ace reached for the lock, Charley pressed her back against the door.

Ace’s brows dipped, and he scanned her face, inspecting her.

He’d see fear. While Charley hadn’t really spoken to anyone about the night with her brother, she was still dealing with the trauma.

Ace unlocked the door and opened it slightly, which pushed Charley closer to him. In an unexpected move, Ace stepped to the side, allowing her to pass.

“Thank you.” She slipped out the door and turned in the hallway. Ace remained at the door with his hand gripping the edge of the battered wood frame.

“It was nice meeting you.”

Ace’s gaze sharpened, but his mouth softened.

“Was it?”

It seemed like a trick question, but she answered anyway. “If I hadn’t, I’d still be in the apartment trying to figure out the locks.” She waved her hand toward him. “Thank you again.”

He lifted his chin and closed the door. As soon as it locked in place, she heard someone howling with laughter.

“Look at our Prez being the motherfuckin’ gentleman. Classing up Killcreek.”

Prez? She knitted her brows, staring back at the door.

Charley had done her best not to stare at any of the men, but she noticed they’d all been wearing vests, some with more elaborate patches than others.

None of them sat with their backs to her, but as she pieced it together, it became clear.

They were indeed members of the Killcreek Drifters.

It was the first time she’d seen one, let alone met six bikers.

But she’d heard of them. Or should I say, overheard.

Months ago, Zeke had been at the house with her brother and mentioned the motorcycle club as being a huge factor in his rise if some deal could be met.

Charley had no idea what he’d meant, but just knowing there was some type of affiliation between Zeke and the club, she was left unsettled.

Was that why Ace asked about her brother?

A chill spread across her skin, and she slowly stepped away from the door. Then raced down the hallway.

Shit!

****

“And if all goes well, I’ll reach out to Anders and Ace to schedule a meeting with Inez.”

Nash stood next to Oz’s table on the balcony, wrapping up the agenda for his meeting tonight.

He’d given him a rundown of how he was going to approach Inez about taking the meeting with Anders.

Both of them recognized it was a delicate situation, and she’d have to be handled with some finesse.

But not too much. Inez could read through bullshit.

Nash would stay focused on the money aspect. That was her sweet spot.

“What time are you meeting with her?” Oz asked.

“Ten. Sharp .”

Oz slowly nodded, staring back at Nash. “And the bottle?”

“Belvedere.”

Oz smirked. “That should get you in the door.”

Should being the operative word. Inez was the most unpredictable person he’d ever met, second only to Rogue. They were equal in temper, which would no doubt make for an interesting meeting.

Nash gestured to Caine and Ridge stationed near the bar. “I don’t anticipate any problems. Security won’t be necessary. She’d probably make them wait in the hallway anyway.”

Oz gave a curt nod.

Nash started through the room but halted when he heard his name.

“Nash,” Oz said and waved him back to the table. When he was a few feet away, Oz pointed to the chair across from him.

Nash sat, watching Oz light up a cigar. “Where are we at with your contact in regards to Elodie’s employee?”

Charley.

This was not the topic he’d expected. Nash had briefed Oz after his meeting with Sullivan. There wasn’t much information, but Nash had shared everything he had. Oz didn’t seemed to be concerned at the time. It seemed odd he’d taken an interest, considering there hadn’t been any new developments.

“He said he’d speak to the officers directly.

I should hear something soon.” Nash was giving him most of the information with the exception of one small piece.

He’d made a call to Sullivan again, demanding he make it a priority.

Nash was growing impatient. It didn’t sit well with him.

Something was off, and he wanted answers.

Nash had spent the last couple days thinking too much about the woman. He’d made a pact with himself to steer clear of Charley. Being around her would be too much of a temptation.

Oz took a drag from his cigar, staring across the balcony. Something was definitely on his mind, but it was never Nash’s position to ask. Oz valued his privacy, and Nash respected it.

“I had an interesting conversation with Elodie earlier today. With the renovations at the store complete, the staff is in the process of moving all the inventory from the apartment back into the showroom.”

Nash raised his brows. “Ahead of schedule. That doesn’t happen often.”

“Well, as you know, Elodie isn’t known for her patience.”

Nash battened down his smile. He had no doubt Oz had made a call and put a rush on the job. Being King had its privileges.

Nash clasped his hands and settled in his seat. “Is there anything you need from me?”

“She wants to rent out the apartment above the store.”

Nash furrowed his brows. The last he’d heard, Oz had made it clear in no uncertain terms the apartment would remain vacant. He didn’t want anyone living there. It was a matter of security, which Elodie had agreed with. It had Nash wondering where her change of heart had come from.

“Are you considering it?”

“Initially, no. Elodie is being stubborn and insisting on offering the apartment to” —Oz paused— “Charley Hudson.”

What? Before Nash could ask, Oz continued.

“It seems that in the last few days, Charley has abruptly moved to a complex that Elodie does not approve of.”

Nash furrowed his brows. “Where?”

“A complex downtown.” Oz tapped the ashes from his cigar in the tray then narrowed his gaze. “The old high-rise directly across the street from the Bowery.”

What the fuck?

Every muscle in Nash’s body tightened. What the hell was she doing living in Inez’s building?

On rare occasions, Inez would allow random outsiders to live in the apartments.

It was all a paper and numbers game. She couldn’t be the only resident.

It would’ve drawn red flags. But she was selective.

Most of the tenants had been living there for decades.

Never once had there been more than a twenty percent capacity.

Most floors had ten units, and only three were occupied.

On occasion, she’d have people for a short-term lease.

But this connection hit too close to home.

Nash straightened in his seat. “When did she move in?”

“According to Elodie, a few days ago. Charley’s friend knew of the place, and they had a vacancy.”

Nash cupped his mouth, feeling Oz’s stare.

“Who is this friend ?”

“My guess would be Penny,” Nash said.

Oz’s jaw squared. “How are they connected?”

“I don’t know.”

“Find out.” Oz growled.

“I can ask Inez, but she probably won’t offer anything up. You know how she is with her girls.”

Oz scoffed, shaking his head. “Charley seems to be connected in quite a few ways to our world. I don’t like it.”

Neither do I.