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CHAPTER THREE

I SAT THERE listening to the hushed stillness that settles after last call, when the regulars stagger out, leaving behind the musk of sweat, smoke, and the weight of bad decisions. I stayed longer than I should have, leaning against my bike in the parking lot, scanning the shadows for her.

Lucy.

Tonight, I waited, hoping I would see her again, but no luck. Why I couldn’t let it go was a fucking mystery. There was just something special about Lucy. I couldn’t get her out of my damn head.

I jammed my helmet on, muttering a curse under my breath as I kicked the bike to life. The engine roared, shattering the stillness, but it didn’t do shit to quiet the knot in my gut.

I shouldn’t have been out here alone. Devil’s warning rang in my head like a broken record: Don’t ride solo. Not with Dragon Fire sniffing around. But I’d convinced myself I was fine. I’d keep my head low, take the back roads. No one would know.

That’s why I wore the road captain patch, because when it came to these roads, no one knew them better than me.

The night whipped against my skin as I rode out of the lot, taking the long way back to the clubhouse. The back roads were dark, winding through thick trees that swallowed the moonlight. It was quiet out here, too quiet, but that’s how I liked it. Just me, my bike, and the road.

I leaned into a curve, the engine purring beneath me, but then I heard it, the low, steady growl of engines behind me.

My gut tightened, and I glanced in my mirrors. Headlights flickered in the distance, growing brighter, closer. My jaw clenched as the growl turned into a roar, and I knew damn well it wasn’t friendly.

Dragon Fire.

The bastards had been circling for weeks, and now they’d caught me slipping.

I twisted the throttle, the bike surging forward, but their engines were louder, closing in fast. My pulse hammered in my ears, smothering the steady growl of my tires rolling over the road.

The first shot cracked through the air, crisp and deadly.

Too close.

I leaned low, hugging the bike as I pushed it harder, faster. The road twisted ahead, narrow and uneven, but I didn’t have a choice. Another shot rang out, and this one hit its mark.

The back tire exploded.

The bike jerked hard, fighting against me as I tried to keep control. The handlebars twisted in my grip, the ground rushing up too fast.

I went down.

The impact knocked the breath clean out of me. My shoulder hit the ground first, the sudden jolt sending pain screaming through my ribs. Gravel tore at my skin as I slid, and when I finally stopped, the world spun.

Through the haze of pain, I smelled it—the harsh, chemical stink of gasoline spilling onto the road.

Then I saw the spark.

The flames roared to life, climbing up the side of my bike like they’d been waiting for this moment. Heat rolled over me, too close, too fast.

Laughter echoed above the crackle of the fire, and I forced my eyes open, squinting against the light. Shadows moved against the flames, the outlines of Dragon Fire’s riders circling like vultures.

“Stay out of our business, Devil’s House,” one of them snarled, his voice thick with menace, dripping with a dare. “Unless you’re lookin’ to get buried.”

I tried to push myself up, but my arms shook, and my ribs screamed in protest. I could only watch as they fired another shot into the air and peeled off, their engines roaring into the night.

The fire raged on, the heat licking at my clothes as I lay there, helpless. My bike—a piece of me—was gone, reduced to a burning wreck.

Pain radiated through every inch of my body, but it wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was the silence that followed. The distant rumble of their bikes faded, leaving me alone with the sound of crackling flames and my own ragged breathing.

I clenched my fists, the gravel biting into my palms as I forced myself to stay awake. Someone would come. They had to. The club always watched out for its own, and they’d notice when I didn’t check in.

But as the firelight flickered, throwing shadows across the trees, I couldn’t shake the thought that I’d fucked up.

I’d ridden alone.

I’d been stupid.

And now, lying here under the night sky with Dragon Fire’s warning burning as bright as the flames, I wasn’t sure if anyone would get to me in time.

I’D BEEN STAYING off the main roads, trying to avoid the Dragon Fire assholes, my headlights cutting through the thick, inky blackness of the back roads, when the orange glow lit up the horizon.

My gut twisted.

Out here, in the middle of nowhere, I thought it was safe, but that kind of glow was a fire, no doubt.

But since there wasn’t anything out here but dirt and trees, it could only be one thing, a car.

I pressed my foot harder on the gas, the tires kicking up dust as I followed the narrow, winding road. When I rounded the bend and saw the wreckage, my breath caught in my throat.

A motorcycle was engulfed in flames, its once-pristine chrome now a twisted, burning heap. Beside it, lying motionless on the ground, was Spinner.

“Shit,” I muttered, slamming the car into park and throwing myself out the door.

The heat from the fire hit me as I sprinted toward him, my heart pounding. He was on his back, his leather cut scorched along the edges. His face was bloodied, and his breathing was shallow, but he was alive.

“Spinner,” I said, dropping to my knees beside him. His eyes flickered open, just barely, and I caught a glimpse of recognition before they slid shut again.

“Hey, stay with me,” I said, shaking his shoulder gently. “I’ve got you.”

I scanned the area, my pulse racing. Whoever had done this was long gone, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out who was responsible. Dragon Fire MC. Their calling card was the wreckage they left behind.

The fire crackled louder, the heat growing unbearable. I hooked my arms under Spinner’s shoulders and started dragging him away from the flames. He groaned, his body heavy and uncooperative, but I didn’t stop.

“You’re not checking out on me,” I muttered, more to myself than him. “Not while I’ve got a say in it.”

Once we were far enough from the burning bike, I lowered him to the ground, wiping sweat from my brow. My hands shook as I pulled the phone from his pocket and scrolled to the number I needed: The Devil’s House MC.

The line rang twice before someone picked up.

“Yeah,” a deep, commanding voice answered.

“Something’s happened,” I said, my voice calm despite the adrenaline coursing through me. “I found Spinner. He’s been attacked. His bike’s on fire, and he’s hurt.”

There was a pause, then a low growl. “Where are you?”

I rattled off the location, glancing down at Spinner as I spoke. His breathing was ragged, his face pale under the blood and dirt.

“Stay there,” the man said. “We’re on our way.”

The line went dead, and I shoved the phone back into his pocket.

I crouched beside Spinner, brushing a strand of hair from his face. His eyelids fluttered, and he let out a weak cough.

“Lucy?” he rasped, his voice barely audible.

“Yeah,” I said, leaning closer. “It’s me. You’re gonna be okay.”

He tried to say something else, but it came out as a garbled mess. I pressed a hand to his chest, wanting him to stay still.

“You don’t need to talk,” I said softly. “Just breathe and stay calm.”

The distant rumble of engines cut through the night, growing louder by the second. Relief flooded me as the headlights of multiple bikes pierced the darkness, followed closely by a van.

The Devil’s House MC arrived in force, their faces grim as they took in the scene, and I used that as an opportunity to slip into the darkness, heading for my car.

I slipped into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition, only to get nothing.

What the hell?

I tried again and nothing.

Damn it, I sure as hell didn’t want to deal with The Devil’s House club tonight. I sighed, getting out, leaning against my car, and prayed they wouldn’t notice me in the shadows of the dark.

The air was thick with the smell of burning rubber and gas, the kind of mix that clings to you and even after you shower. I stood by my Corolla, wrapped in the shadows just shy of the wreckage.

I kept my arms crossed, trying to look unaffected, even as my heart hammered in my chest. I’d done the right thing, hadn’t I? It wasn’t like I could just drive by and leave him there, bleeding out next to the flaming heap of metal. No way would I ever do that to him.

But the truth was, I hadn’t planned for this, possibly standing here under their sharp, assessing gazes, like they could see every lie I’d ever told.

But there was still a chance they wouldn’t notice me.

The man who stepped off his bike first had an air of authority about him. His hair was pale blond, almost white, and his eyes burned like coal even in the darkness. I knew instantly this was their leader—Devil. His name was whispered enough around circles I’d run in lately.

I watched as the men hovered around Spinner, and then my breath caught in my throat when their eyes landed on me.

Devil moved toward me with purpose, and the others followed like a pack of wolves, spreading out to take in the scene. Each man watched me with keen eyes and an edge to their stance, not taking their eyes off me.

I focused on Devil as he approached, though I could feel the weight of their collective attention pressing down on me. “What the hell happened here?” he barked, his voice as intimidating as all hell.

Stay calm, I reminded myself. Don’t show weakness.

“Name’s Lucy. I was passing through. Saw him on the side of the road and called,” I said when Devil reached me. My voice came out steady, thank God. “Figured that’s how you’d want it handled.”

He tilted his head, studying me with a look that made it clear he wasn’t buying my casual tone. “Passing through, were you? What made you think to get involved?”

What the fuck?

Keeping my voice measured, I said, “I’m not getting involved. Just didn’t want to leave someone bleeding out on the side of the road.”

One of the others muttered something I couldn’t hear, and Devil glanced over his shoulder before turning back to me. “You didn’t see who did it?”

“No,” I answered quickly, maybe too quickly. “It was just him and the wreck when I got here. I moved him back from the flames. That’s it.”

His gaze narrowed. “And you just happened to know who to call?”

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, cursing myself for it. “I know how things work in clubs like yours. Thought it would be better to call you than bring in the law. Was I wrong?”

Jesus, he was starting to bug me.

Let it go, asshole almost slipped from my mouth before I shoved it down. I’d spent enough time in places like this to know how to handle situations like these. That didn’t mean I wanted to explain myself to him or anyone else.

Again, his face showed tons of suspicion as he asked, “Why didn’t you just leave?” His eyes flicked to my car, then back to me.

I shrugged, keeping my expression neutral. “Look, I would have already bailed, but my car won’t start.” I let out a slow breath, pretending to be more annoyed than I felt. “I didn’t want to leave someone to die on the side of the road. But if you’re done questioning me, I’ll take off as soon as my car’s running.”

Spinner groaned as they lifted him off the ground. My eyes flicked to him, and I felt a pang of concern. I’d done what I could, but it didn’t feel like enough—not when it came to Spinner.

“Gearhead,” Devil barked, “check her car.”

The one called Gearhead moved to my hood, muttering something under his breath as he worked. I stepped back, giving him space, though I was already itching to get out of here.

Finally, the engine roared to life, and I took that as my cue. “Thanks,” I said, keeping my tone light as I climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Get that car checked out first chance you get,” Gearhead called after me as I rolled up my window.

I didn’t answer, just pulled away, the headlights cutting through the darkness. My hands gripped the wheel tighter than necessary as I drove off, heart pounding. They’d bought it—for now. But I knew this wasn’t the last I’d see of them.

My gut said not a chance in hell.