Die For Her (Steele Raiders MC)

by RB Hilliard

  “Whoa! You scared me,” she gasped while attempting to regain her balance.

  “I saw you watching Steele. In case you’re wondering who he’s with, that’s Fae. They fuck once or twice a month, or whenever she comes into town.”

  Whatever, LuLu thought. She made a move to leave, but Hannah stepped in front of her, cutting off her escape.

  “When Fae’s not around, he trades off between Shelly, Treena, and me. Sometimes we even have foursome’s, but I’m by far his favorite.”

  Even though she knew what Hannah was trying to do—knew that it was classic bully behavior—she still felt the hot knife of jealousy. Probably because she knew deep down inside that at least some of what the girl was saying was true.

  LuLu laughed. Pretending as if Hannah’s words weren’t eating her up inside, she asked, “Is that what he tells you, that you’re his favorite? Funny, he tells me that, too.”

  She knew she’d struck a nerve, when Hannah leaned in, her eyes narrowing into mean-girl slits, and she hissed, “You’re not welcome here, bitch.”

  Enough was enough. She stepped in—to where their chests almost touched—and in a soft, cutting tone, said, “In case you’re wondering why he doesn’t want you, it’s because you reek of desperation.”

  Hannah moved to push her, but LuLu saw it coming and somehow managed to duck out of her reach. Hannah screamed curses as she stumbled past LuLu, and that’s when LuLu saw the red light bouncing back and forth between the two of them. At first, it didn’t register, but then she heard Ax shouting her name. Her head turned and she could see him running toward her, but with Hannah still ranting, it took her a moment to register what he was saying.

  “Duuuuck!” he shouted.

  Like a light bulb turning on, it clicked—the red light, Ax’s panic, and his words. LuLu dropped to her knees right as a bullet slammed into Hannah. Warm droplets of blood splattered across her face as Hannah toppled to the ground.

  Hannah’s name tore from her mouth in a painfully loud scream. Hands grabbed her as she tried to crawl to the girl. She tried to shove them away, but they wouldn’t budge.

  “No, no, no,” she chanted. This wasn’t happening, couldn’t be happening. She had to get to Hannah. Several people stepped in front of her, blocking her view. She told them to move, but no one would listen. This was her fault.

  “She’s gone,” she heard someone say.

  “Noooo!” she screamed.

  “Shhh, You’re okay. I’ve got you,” Ax murmured. Hot tears blinded her vision as he lifted her into his arms. Suddenly Arlan was there. She could tell just by looking at him that he was angry.

  “What’s the status?” he asked.

  “Taz and Doc are on Hannah. I sent everyone else inside. Sorry, man, I should have been there.”

  “We’ll talk about it later.” His stormy gray eyes settled on her and slightly softened before flicking back to Ax. “Get Buck and Loco and see if you can find anything in the field. Ink, Sledge, and Cupcake are circling around the front. “I’ll be out once I get her settled.”

  “I’ll check in on you later, princess,” Ax whispered, kissing the top of her head. She thought he was going to let her down, but instead, he shifted her into Arlan’s arms. She tried to protest, to tell them she was okay, but the lie got caught in her throat. Hannah was dead because of her. She was far from okay.

  Arson intercepted them at the bonfire. “Want me to take her, boss?”

  “I’ve got her.” The deep timbre of his voice vibrated through her, the warmth of his chest seeping into the side of her face, giving her comfort—comfort she didn’t deserve. The need to do something, to help in some way, overwhelmed her, and she tried to wiggle free.

  Muscular arms tightened around her, and she pushed at them. “You don’t have to carry me. I can walk.”

  “Not gonna happen,” he told her as they continued toward the house. He paused at the door, his eyes tipping to hers, and her heart squeezed in her chest. She could tell that he was struggling. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he tried to get the words out. He didn’t have to say it. She already knew. He’d made a mistake, they both had, and someone had died because of it.

  Touching her forehead to his, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank Christ it wasn’t you.” The raw emotion in those five words shot straight to her heart.

  The sound of a door opening interrupted the moment, which was probably good because LuLu didn’t think kissing him would be appropriate right then.

  “Oh, thank God,” Glenda gasped. “Is she hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” LuLu said. Arlan’s arms tightened around her. He knew she was lying.

  Panicked voices surrounded them as they stepped inside the house. “Listen up, everyone!” he called out. “I know you’re scared, and you have questions. As of right now, I can’t tell you more than you already know. Until we have some clarity on the situation, we want you here. No one comes in, and no one goes out. You know the drill.”

  “Here, let us take her,” Glenda said. LuLu tensed. She didn’t know these people. Not only that, but she’d just gotten their friend killed. She needed time to process it all.

  “I need her locked down.” Glenda started to protest, and he cut her off. “Just until I know what we’re dealing with,” LuLu wasn’t sure what he meant by locked down, but if it meant not having to face the firing squad, she was fine with it. After answering a few more questions, he pulled her in tight and started across the room—she thought toward the stairwell and her bedroom—but then he veered in the opposite direction. Her heart jolted when she realized where he was taking her.

  “I’m okay. You can take me to my room,” she said when he started down the stairs.

  “I can, but I’m not.” She knew by his tone it would be pointless to argue, which was fine because she didn’t have the energy to fight him. Maybe later, but not now when things were still so raw. The stairs spilled onto an L shaped hallway, the concrete floors and walls reminding her of a bunker instead of a basement. They passed by several closed doors before reaching the end of the hall, and what she assumed was Arlan’s room. He lowered her to her feet in order to access the keypad. After a series of beeps, she heard the lock disengage. Instead of picking her back up, he took her hand, and with a gentle tug, he led her inside.

  The room was massive. The carpeted floor and masculine furniture gave some warmth to what would otherwise be a concrete dungeon. As he led her to his humongous bed, she noticed there were no windows.

  “Is this a bunker?” she asked.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her between his legs. Tears burned the back of her throat as his hands lifted to cup her cheeks. He searched her face, his gray eyes searing through her, his tone intense. “This was not your fault. I need you to hear what I’m saying.”

  She heard it. She just didn’t agree with it. Unable to think clearly with him touching her, she pulled from his grasp and took a step back. “You’re wrong. It is my fault. Dario is after me. I brought him here, and now Hannah’s dead because of me.” She paused to wipe the tears, and he pounced. With a forceful tug, she was back between his legs. “I keep seeing the look on her face before she fell. She looked so surprised.”

  His hands circled her waist, and his warm lips grazed the side of her head. “You’re a victim of circumstance, babe. Tonight is on me. I fucked up, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am about it.” His phone rang, the unexpected sound making them both jump and he pulled back slightly to fish it from his pocket. “Give me five,” he barked at whoever was on the other end.

  He disconnected the call and sighed. The weary sound of it made her heart ache. He had to be exhausted. “I need you to do something for me.”

  She gave him a wary look. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already done enough.”

  Ignoring her sarcastic remark, he continued, “I need you to let me protect you. Dario caught us by surprise tonight. I want you to trust me when I say that won’t happen aga
in. Do you think you can do that for me?” Her stomach twisted at the thought of Dario hurting him or anyone else, but what choice did she have? Tonight was proof that he could get to her. She wanted to put her trust in Arlan, but first, they needed to clear the air.

  “I think we should talk about us. Talk about what happened before.”

  His fingers spasmed at her waist, his gaze fixing hungrily on her face. “Is there an us?”

  His growly tone caused butterflies to erupt, their wings flittering wildly through her belly. Was there still a them? She thought there might be. “Maybe, I don’t know,” she told him.

  His lips split into a devilish grin, and her heart skipped a thousand beats. “We’ll definitely have that talk later. Right now, I need to know you’re okay, then I’ll quickly show you where everything is.”

  “Whoa, wait, you’re leaving me here?” She’d clearly misunderstood his meaning.

  “Don’t worry; it’s just until I get a better understanding of what happened.”

  The thought of being trapped in his room made her nervous. “And if I say no?”

  He leaned forward, and in a sexy, low voice, said, “Please don’t. I can’t do my job if I’m worried about you.”

  His plea melted her resolve. “Fine, but promise you’ll be back soon.”

  “As soon as I know something,” he assured her.

  “Tonight,” she commanded.

  His lips twitched. “Fine. I promise to be back tonight.”

  After he was gone, LuLu sat on the foot of Arlan’s bed, staring at the windowless, concrete walls, her heart hurting for Hannah, and she couldn’t help but think that this was far from over.

  Chapter Fifteen

  STEELE STROLLED FROM his bedroom with a smile on his face. Things were beyond fucked up, but after tonight and almost losing Luciana, he was done screwing around. He wanted her. He’d never stopped wanting her. Before, he just wouldn’t let himself have her. Not anymore. The thought of her in his life, in his bed, on the back of his bike, and in his home, no longer scared him. The fact that she wanted to talk was good because he needed to explain some things to her.

  Before heading upstairs, he stopped to see if Grover had gotten video footage of the shooting. He knew the camera was angled more toward the yard, but maybe they’d gotten lucky.

  Grover was riding with Grizz the night of the ambush. He survived the attack, but not without a hell of a lot of suffering. After a bullet to the spine rendered him paralyzed from the waist down, he lost his will to live. With the club’s help, he’d fought his way back, but his guilt and anger over being the only survivor had made him an even bigger pain in the ass than before. Asshole or not, the man was a genius when it came to computers and anything electronic.

  “Hey, old man, I’m sure Buck has already talked to you, but I wanted to check in.” He stopped short at Grover’s glowering expression.

  “I called you three times today. I even sent a messenger, but you were too busy to deal with me. Is this what it’s come to? You just can’t be bothered?”

  Damn, he was worse than a woman when it came to giving guilt trips. “Aww, fuck, man. I’m sorry. I meant to get back to you, but shit kept happening and I forgot.”

  “MmmHmm. I spoke to Buck twenty minutes ago, and I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. The camera didn’t pick up anything, but it might have, had you answered my calls this afternoon.” At his questioning look, Grover asked, “Buck didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “The right-side camera winked out around two this afternoon. I tried to get someone on it, but apparently, everyone had other shit to do, so that didn’t happen.”

  “Fuck,” Steele hissed. His hand scrubbed over the back of his neck as he slowly digested Grover’s words. “Do you think someone tampered with it?”

  “My guess is yes.”

  His gut burned at the thought that this could be an inside job and that one of his men, someone he trusted, could be helping Dario. “Who would fucking do that to us?”

  Grover sighed. “I’m not saying it’s someone in the club, but if the camera was tampered with, you can’t rule it out. Let me take a look at it and I’ll be able to tell you.”

  “Done. For now, this stays between us.” Steele left with a promise to get the camera to Grover before the end of the night.

  Instead of heading back through the crowd, where he’d likely have to answer more questions, he aimed for the front door. He hit the front porch right as Ink and Sledge were coming up the drive.

  “Find anything?”

  “No,” Sledge growled.

  “Who’s on guard duty?” he asked.

  “Chopper, and he said no one’s been in or out all night,” Ink replied.

  As they walked around back to look for everyone else, they ran into Jake.

  “Where have you been?” Steele asked.

  “I smoked some powerful shit earlier that knocked me on my ass. I just woke up and heard the news about Hannah. Do you think it was Dario?”

  “I know it was him.” He told them about Luciana’s earlier conversation with Dario.

  “Fucker has a death wish,” Ink muttered.

  “You ain’t kidding,” Jake replied.

  Steele spotted Ax coming through the gate. “Got anything?” he called out.

  “Footprints leading to the main road. The fucker didn’t even try to hide his tracks.” They followed Ax to the other side of the fence to where Arson was explaining to Buck and Loco about footprints and shoe tread. After a long, drawn-out explanation, the conclusion was that the tracks probably belonged to one person, and they all suspected that person was Dario.

  “Find him,” Steele ordered.

  “On it,” Loco said.

  “Jake, why don’t you go with him.”

  “I’ve got it,” Loco repeated more firmly.

  “I’m not asking. Call when you have him, and I’ll meet you in the barn.”

  “What if it’s the cop?” Jake asked.

  “Let’s hope that’s not the case.”

  Buck caught up with him at the house, and Steele told him what Grover said about the camera. Buck was shocked, to say the least. Like Steele, he couldn’t wrap his head around the possibility that one of their brothers would betray them like that. Steele left him in charge of retrieving the camera and told him to report back when he knew something. He figured he had about an hour before someone would need him. That was just enough time for him to fulfill his promise to Luciana.

  _______________

  LuLu woke to a strange noise. It took a second for her brain to register that it was the lock disengaging on the bedroom door. Her pulse spiked as a rush of adrenaline charged through her body, her heart hammering like crazy as the door opened and light spilled across the carpeted floor. Arlan was back. Was he ready to talk? He had to be exhausted. Should she say something, or pretend to be asleep? Her fingers drifted to the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing—his shirt—and she gave it a nervous tug. He’d seen her naked, touched and tasted every part of her body, done things to her that made her blush, but they’d never slept in a bed together. Would he be mad she was wearing his t-shirt? She hoped not.

  Earlier, after he left, she’d tried to sleep, but sleeping in jeans and a blood-spattered shirt wasn’t exactly optimal, so she decided to search for a t-shirt. After invading his dresser, she took a quick peek inside his nightstand, and his closet, and ended up in his bathroom—which was completely retro with its dated tile and fixtures—but not in a bad way. Overall, his room was kind of cool, minus the lack of windows, that is. That was going to take some getting used to. She eventually made it back to his bed, where it took her a surprisingly short amount of time to fall asleep. Now, she was regretting not having turned on the bathroom light, because she couldn’t see a thing.

  “You look good in my bed,” a voice from above her said. She let out a surprised shriek, and deep laughter rang out as she tried to catch her breath. “Sorry, darlin�
��, didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She glared in the direction of the bodiless voice. “Either you’re lying, or you have bionic eyes.” He laughed again, and she couldn’t help but smile. “How is everyone doing?” she asked as the mattress shifted beside her.

  “They’re fine.” He sounded tired. His warm hand connected with hers, goosebumps erupting as his fingers trailed across her arm and down her side, his touch making her want things she shouldn’t.

  “You sound exhausted. Why don’t you come to be—” The rest of the word got caught in her throat when his fingers reached her bare legs and came to a screeching halt. She heard a click, and the room was suddenly bathed in light. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she found Arlan sitting next to her with his broad back resting against the headboard. He had one foot on the bed and the other on the floor, and his eyes were focused on her body.

  Unable to discern the look on his face, she started babbling, “I’m sorry. I should have asked before taking your shirt. Mine was uncomfortable, and I thought—”

  “You’ve got a choice,” he said, cutting her off.

  “What?” she asked, thinking she must have missed something.

  His eyes moved from her legs to her face. “I’m giving you a choice. We can talk, or we can fuck.” His words hit her in all the right places, and she sucked in a surprised breath. “I’ve got to warn you, though, if you choose talk, you’re not gonna get much from me, ‘cause I feel like I’m functioning on less than one brain cell right now. Not to mention how hard it’ll be to concentrate with you in my bed wearing nothing but my shirt.”

  The ache between her legs intensified to the point of uncomfortable, and she tried not to squirm. Yes, they needed to talk, but she couldn’t deny that she wanted him. She’d never stopped wanting him.

  “Can I have both?”

  Desire shimmering in his eyes, he leaned in to where their lips almost touched, and in a wickedly, sexy voice, said, “You can have anything you want,” and crushed his mouth to hers.

  Her lips parted, and his tongue slipped inside. Each stroke felt like a direct connection to her clit. She’d missed him, missed his lush mouth and talented tongue. She’d missed everything about him. The kiss was slow and gentle, too slow and way too gentle. His “talk or fuck” comment lit a fire in her belly, and now he was torturing her by taking his time. She didn’t think so.