Page 5 of T-Bone (Steel Demons MC #11)
Faith
H e was actually serious. Those piercing gray eyes sparked with sincerity but there was a darkness in him that I didn’t trust. I knew men like him, had grown up around them, went to the academy with them and put a ton of them behind bars.
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t deal with people I can’t trust. Especially bikers. ”
“All bikers,” he asked, his tone was incredulous.
I nodded easily. “It’s hard to trust bikers when my sister was beaten to death by one.
I’m pretty sure Ghost Riders have several members of Las Vegas PD in their pockets, and all of Red Rock.
Why else would they fail to inform Mr. Kutner about his sister?
” It was another piece of the puzzle and that only made me more sure that something was off about Ashley’s murder too.
“I get it, believe me I do. But you don’t have a choice. The rally is happening for the next four days and Ghost Riders are here. If they catch you sniffing around and asking questions about shit that might implicate them, they won’t hesitate to take you out.”
I snorted. “I can handle myself, thanks.”
He stood back and folded his arms, those omnipotent gray eyes tried to see deep into my soul. “I have no doubt you are a very capable woman but,” he said slowly, a smile curling the corners of his mouth.
“But,” I asked, my tone sharp enough to cut.
“But you are a rule follower, and these guys don’t play by anybody’s rules. They will shoot you first and ask questions later, especially with the death of one of their own.”
“Two,” I answered. “His brother Victor was there too. Also dead.”
“That only makes my point harder.” His brows shot up, challenging me.
“I don’t give a fuck about him,” I growled angrily. “I hope hell is real just so that I get the satisfaction of knowing he’s burning there for eternity.”
“Yeah, but they do give a fuck about him, and they won’t like a cop poking around in their business. Take it or leave it, lady.”
It wasn’t a bad offer. Him being a biker aside, it was exactly what I would’ve asked for if I could bring myself to trust anyone ever again.
He made a good point though, having him at my side would make it easier to get some answers.
I didn’t have a choice . I mean I always had a choice, but this was the safer, smarter choice.
Until it wasn’t a good choice.
My jaw clenched tight, and I nodded. I would accept his deal because I had to, but I’d keep my eyes and ears open, and I absolutely would not trust this man more than I had to.
“Fine. But if I think you’re playing me in any way I will turn everything I find over to the State Police and the FBI. Got it?”
His dark brows arched in surprise. “Yeah, I got it. And if I’m not playing you?” His arms were massive, and I don’t just mean big. They were giant slabs of muscle that were capable of real damage.
“I just want to find out where Gemma is and ideally, I’d like answers about my sister’s death.
If you’re straight with me then your secrets will go to the grave with me.
” I wasn’t a liar as a rule and only did it if it helped put a bad guy behind bars, but this man didn’t know me and probably trusted me even less than I trusted him.
His gray eyes watched me—no he stared me down, but not to intimidate me. He seemed like he was just a serious man. I laughed. A serious biker, now that was a joke.
“Sweetheart, you’ve got yourself a deal. I know you don’t want to, but you can trust me.”
I laughed. “Unless any of the other things you value, like your pride, your ego, your gang, your friends, or some girl you fucked, come between us, then yeah I can trust you.”
He smiled. And it was a good smile. I refused to notice just how good looking he was in that bad boy biker way. He had long hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Straight, dark brows framed his stormy gray eyes. He was big like a football player, only more imposing.
“And don’t call me sweetheart.”
His gaze swept over me once more and he nodded, ignoring my words. “The rally already started, and you’ll need to blend in.” He pointed at my suit and shook his head.
I looked down at my current outfit which consisted of a white blouse and black suit. It was easy and it always matched, classically stylish. I looked fine but he was right, I’d stick out like a sore thumb. “I’m not playing dress up. I’ll go back to my hotel and change.”
“In an hour the guys will be too shitfaced to answer anything. Especially Pike.” He took my arm, and I went completely still from his touch. “You look and smell like a cop and there’s no fucking way I’ll let you make people believe my MC are a bunch of narcs.”
I inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “I am not a cop.”
“Yeah, but you look like one. Dressed like that, you’re a walking, talking target. Is that what you want on a weekend filled with bikers who, as a general rule, hate cops?”
This was such bullshit. “I guess you have a plan?”
“I do. Come on.” He dragged me for a moment until I got control of my feet.
We went through the garage and out the other side before he took me inside a square brick building. “What is this place?”
He said nothing, just pulled me inside with a smile. “This is our clubhouse. These are the girlfriends, wives, and club girls. They’ll help you change your clothes into something more appropriate.”
More appropriate. “You’re enjoying this.”
He shrugged. “I’m not not enjoying it, let’s just leave it at that. Ladies, please help my friend here look like she belongs at the rally, and not like she’s there to serve a warrant.”
My eyes narrowed at him. “Payback is an absolute bitch,” I growled before I was pulled away and swept up into a cloud of perfume, laughs, and clothes.
So. Many. Clothes.