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“She volunteered.” It’s semantics. Sure, I didn’t drag her here kicking and screaming, but I imagine, given the choice, she wouldn’t have come at all. But kidnapping…

There’s amusement in Saint’s expression as he watches me, but he doesn’t share what he finds funny, and I don’t bother asking. I’m not sure I’ll like the answer. “I’m choosing to believe you’ve got a handle on this, as you always do. So I’ll trust your judgment. For now.”

I wait for him to ask to see her. No one gains access to the Rebels’ clubhouse without being strictly vetted. And especially not people who are here for extended stays. So I wait for the follow-up questions, and when they don’t come, that’s all the response I need, and I turn to leave.

“Hound!” He stops me before I can open the door. My brows furrow at the awkward look that settles on his expression. “If the girl needs any help or company while adapting to this place, Jade is always looking to meet new people and make friends.”

The offer is surprising, and I respond with a nod before showing myself out. My thoughts are on Chelsea as I head back to my apartment, my heart thumping hard in my chest with the need to see her. I don’t bother examining these feelings as I let myself through the front door.

I take off my boots and walk into the living room to find her pacing.

She stops when she spots me, heaving a sigh even as the nerves in her eyes disappear, but not completely.

“You’re back,” she says, taking a step forward but stopping herself before she reaches me. “Uh, c-can I ask those questions now?”

The urge to close the distance between us and touch her is so strong that I force myself to turn away, stripping off my jacket so I have something to do with my hands.

“Ask away,” I say, heading toward the kitchen with no plan in mind.

I open the fridge and contemplate grabbing a beer, but I need my wits about me when I’m around her.

“What is it you do?”

I settle on coffee, closing the fridge to brew some.

“I’m a tracker,” I say as I grab the ground coffee beans from a shelf.

“If you want to be technical about it, I’m one of the club’s enforcers, but my main role is tracking down men like your brother.

” The rich scent of freshly ground coffee beans fills the air as I scoop them into the filter of the coffee maker before closing the lid.

“And what do you do with them…men like my brother?”

I briefly turn to glance at her, surprised by how close she’s moved. “Whatever needs to be done.”

“You kill them,” she guesses, and when I don’t outright deny it, she looks away. The machine whirls to life when I turn it on. “What happens if Ransom can’t come up with the money? Are you going to kill us?”

I watch the timer tick down as I mull over her words.

To be fair, most men I go after are more often than not dangerous criminals and not genius hackers trying to provide for their families.

I recall what Ransom said about how he’d spent the money, and I can’t honestly fault him for doing what he had to so he could take care of his family.

That doesn’t mean actions don’t have consequences though, and I’m the consequences.

“We…I don’t kill women and kids as a rule. I don’t harm innocent people.”

“My brother—”

“Stole half a million dollars from some very dangerous people. He took money that did not belong to him and was cocky enough to think I wouldn’t find him, but I did.

” The timer beeps, but I don’t turn to it.

I find that I am no longer in the mood for coffee.

My nerves are already frayed as it is. “When people steal from us, they need to be punished, or everyone in the city will think we’re an easy target. ”

Long beats of silence pass before she shudders out a breath. “I don’t know anyone who could do what you do.”

“The same could be said about your brother,” I point out, then choose to change the subject before it sours the evening any further. “Do you want something to eat?”

Chelsea shakes her head, and I read exhaustion in those beautiful amber eyes.

“I’m just tired,” she says, leaning against the counter.

“I had to deal with these mean old ladies at work, and then when I came home, our door was broken and there was a maniac with a gun in our living room, stepping all over my clean carpet and threatening to end my brother’s life. ”

“And by maniac, I assume you mean me?”

“You don’t look too crazy now,” she says with a yawn. “It must be the exhaustion talking.”

“Go ahead and get some rest,” I say, nodding toward my bedroom.

The apartment has two bedrooms, but seeing as I’ve never anticipated having an overnight guest, I haven’t gotten around to furnishing the other and only use it to store my weapons and supplies.

Chelsea nods and grabs her bag before disappearing through the door.

I set the coffee pot aside before stretching to release the tension coiling my muscles.

My steps are heavy as I walk to the bedroom and catch the sound of the shower going on in the ensuite.

The image of her naked body behind the door sends my cock swelling to full mast, and I growl in frustration as I tear off my shirt and jeans, leaving me in only my boxers.

How the fuck am I going to survive the night?

My skin is thrumming with need when I pull back the covers and climb into bed.

I’m about to settle in when the bathroom door opens and Chelsea walks out wrapped in a towel, those heavy brown curls dripping with water, and God, she’s a dream.

I didn’t think I could get harder than I already am, and yet, staring at her proves how wrong I was.

I clench my fist as I fight to rein in my desire, unable to stop myself from trailing my eyes over that sexy body. Those curved hips and slim waist, to the perfect swell of her breasts. And when I look up to that gorgeous face, it’s to find her watching me, but not with lust.

It’s shock and panic in her gaze.