by Romi Hart
She said nothing and waited until he’d pulled his shirt over his head and spoke again. “Your brother is a careless, heartless man who goes for what he wants and doesn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire. And he’s not man enough to admit his mistakes, much less apologize for them.” His tone was bitter, and yet he was still intoxicating in the way he moved and the intensity of his eyes. “That’s why I’m after him.”
He finally sat back down on the edge of the bed and raised his eyes to meet her gaze. “Rachel got mixed up with this kid, Dale. He was a pretty cool kid, but he really was just a kid. And he was trying to get patched with the Devil’s Flames. I didn’t like that because Rachel and I hadn’t exactly grown up in the club life, but we’d seen it from a distance. She was smart, headed to an Ivy League college for sure. So I didn’t want her chasing this guy who was going to be a bum rider all his life.” He scoffed and shook his head. “I obviously found out what the appeal was and don’t have anything against it now.”
She offered and encouraging smile. “I can see that.”
“Anyway,” he went on, his smile fading, replaced by a deep scowl, “Dale was head over heels for her. I could see it in the way he looked at her, so I let it go, figured she would break his heart when she finally left for college. But he started taking things seriously and riding out with the club on deliveries and meetings. Rachel would talk about it, but I drowned it out, just pretending to hear her. I was trying to focus on college. My grades were never as good as hers, so it took work for me.
“And then, one night, she told me that she was going to a party at the clubhouse. I told her I didn’t like the idea, but she said it wasn’t the first time. She told me she’d been out there a lot and just wanted me to cover for her with our dad.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “Maybe if Mom had been around, hadn’t already been dead, she might have been different. Or I might have had the strength to tell her no and keep her home. But I felt like she deserved to be happy, and I let her go.”
He sighed and gazed out the window. “As it turns out, Jake was already moonlighting Dale, trying to get him to come over to the Kings and spill a bunch of club secrets. He and some of his boys pulled Dale and Rachel over to question him, see if he was going to switch sides. He said he didn’t want to be a King, that the Flames were good to him. Thanks, but no thanks. Jake didn’t want to take no for an answer and pulled a pistol.
“I don’t know everything because all I got was the sputtering, snotty story Dale had as he cried and rocked back and forth. But they argued, and Jake had Dale down on his knees, ready to execute him. A couple of the others were holding Rachel while she screamed and fought to get free, begged Jake not to kill Dale. Somehow, she got free and threw herself over Dale, and Jake fired four times into her back. Heart and lungs. There was no way she could have lived through it.”
“Oh my god, Rafe!” Kira hadn’t realized she was crying until she tasted the salt of her tears.
“The worst part is, he just rode away. Took the rest of the guys with him.” He shoved to his feet and started pacing. “He left the two of them there and didn’t even bother to call anyone, didn’t bother to apologize, and just left Dale to wallow in his misery and guilt. Guilt he shouldn’t have had to deal with. And he had to call me.
“I got there, not even willing to believe it until I saw her. She was only seventeen years old, Kira. She wasn’t even out of high school. She didn’t do anything to deserve it, and she loved that kid so much she took bullets for him.” Kira watched with horror at the picture Rafe painted as he seemed to shrink in on himself. “Dale couldn’t deal with it. He killed himself a week later, after Rachel’s funeral. I couldn’t leave her side. I sat by her grave for hours. I didn’t know what to do with myself, didn’t know how I was going to live, didn’t know how I could ever forgive the man who did it. I didn’t even have that boy she loved so much to talk to, to drink with.”
He leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling, looking exhausted and haunted, the way he had when he’d first mentioned her brother. Kira wanted to hold him but didn’t dare move or touch him. Eventually, he spoke again, his voice hoarse with emotion. “It was Corey who found me, with Zeke. They found me, after Dale shot himself. Apparently he mentioned me in a note he left, and they had most of the story.”
“And they invited you to join the club, get patched, because they were rivals,” she finished logically.
Rafe nodded. “Not just that. Corey said he’d help me get vengeance for my sister, and for the last six years, he’s mentored me and brought me in so these boys are more family than my own parents ever were. He’s helped me try time and again to get Jake to come out and face us, but he just keeps hiding, like he’s got some invisible shield and all his men are in front of it while he’s behind it, safe and sound. I wonder how he’s going to handle losing Edgar.”
Kira had a pretty good idea. Jake would go ballistic. He’d counted on Edgar for everything. Almost no one outside Diamond Kings had seen Jake’s face in years, Edgar handling all the business. Now, he’d be forced to take over some of the scarier work for himself, and he wouldn’t be happy. He’d probably send a suicide crew to take Rafe out, if he knew that Rafe was the assassin.
“I’m not sorry he’s dead,” Kira told him. “I’m not sorry it was you that killed him. He was one of the most selfish men I’ve ever known. Like I told you, he tried to use me to move up to president when I was going through tragedy.” Her rage boiled, just thinking about what her brother had done, about how much of a coward he was. He had lied to her to save himself from her judgment, and he’d run from Rafe and the club, hiding out rather than owning up to his actions. If he’d only made admissions and done what he could to make amends, Kira wouldn’t hate him so much. And maybe Rafe wouldn’t be after him now.
“So, now you understand,” Rafe said, shrugging. “Apparently, you already did understand.”
“I didn’t lose a family member,” Kira told him, her voice breaking with her sorrow for him. “Let me help you, Rafe. I can get to him, even with him in hiding. I want him dead. What he did to me…” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “It was bad, but it didn’t turn my life upside down forever. I was too young to feel like I lost my only shot at love.” She smiled at him. “Besides, with Shaw, I never had the kind of chemistry we have, or the desire, I feel when I think of you.”
Rafe leaned in and kissed her, unexpectedly, before she could say anything else, and when he pulled away, she was breathless and speechless. He gave her a predatory grin and winked. “I like the effect I have on you. And I want to keep you around.” He pushed away and started to pace again, running his hands through his hair over and over. “Which is why I’m not excited about the idea of you getting involved. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jake tried to hurt you to use you against me.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “Do I mean enough to you for that to be a problem?”
He stared at her, his jaw ticking like a clock, and Kira held her breath. She didn’t know why she needed to know, why it was so vital in this moment, but it felt like so much rested on his reply. “Yes.” The one word carried so much weight, she thought she might never breathe again.
Yes, she’d fallen for him, and there was no looking back.
“Rafe, he doesn’t know that. All he knows is that I left the bar with you and that you’re holding me hostage. He probably thinks I hate you, that I want nothing to do with you and am trying to escape.” She stood, crossing the distance between them and taking his large hands in her smaller ones, liking the way they felt rough in her more delicate palms.
He shook his head and let out a huff. “You’d be better off if you hated me, Kira. This whole thing is too dangerous.”
“Let me help,” she insisted with more urgency. “Together, we can come up with something that will keep everyone safer, with the exception of my brother. I know him, and I know how to get to him. Let me draw him out for you,” she ple
d.
“I can’t lose you, Kira,” he said in a voice so quiet she almost missed it. “I don’t know how I got so attached, but if I lost you…” He captured her gaze and held it. “If you got hurt, or killed, because of me and this vendetta, I could never forgive myself. Do you understand that?”
“And I won’t let you go down, Rafe. If you don’t let me help, I’ll find a way.”
He nodded. “You’re as hard headed as I am, so fine. Let’s come up with something good enough to throw out to the club, and maybe we’ll get the boys to agree.”
It was progress, and Kira pushed up on her toes, kissing Rafe with an almost chaste demeanor. She wanted him, and she was still naked, but she knew they were in a different zone right now and wanted to talk business, not pleasure. The last thing she needed was to fall back into bed with Rafe and give him a chance to change his mind before he heard her ideas.
11
The shower couldn’t get hot enough to cauterize the wounds Rafe had opened yesterday, talking about his sister, not to mention the fresh ones Kira had inflicted with her story. He felt the sting of the marks she’d left with her nails, but they were nothing compared to the ache and the frustration that filled him to the point of explosion.
He scrubbed himself violently, taking out some of the emotional restlessness on his skin and hair, but he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had Jake’s blood on his hands. Especially now that he knew the man didn’t even respect his own family. How could he have looked at his kid sister, someone as beautiful and honest and worthy as Kira, and not believed her?
And that thought bothered Rafe immensely.
When had the script flipped on him? He hadn’t trusted Kira, either, and now, here he was berating Jake’s behavior toward her, his selfishness. Wasn’t Rafe being incredibly selfish now, wanting his revenge and letting Kira put herself at risk to get it? He’d drawn her into this war of his without considering what could happen to her, and that had to be why he wanted so desperately to protect her.
He turned the heat up further, until it nearly scalded him, denying the feelings growing larger and more prominent in his head. And in his heart.
He was falling hard and fast. He had never been in love, and he didn’t want to be. But damn if Kira hadn’t pulled out the man behind the mask, the sensitive person he’d once been and tried to bury with Rachel.
And his emotions were controlling his actions. He’d brought Kira home again last night, had her in his bed. They’d showered together, and he’d pressed her face first against the tiled wall as he thrust his cock into her over and over again. He’d worshiped her body before they fell asleep and again when he woke in the middle of the night to the feel of her lips on his stiff shaft. And as he finally turned off the spray and stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, he could smell sausage and gravy.
She was cooking in his kitchen.
Domesticity wasn’t something he’d ever considered as a possibility for him, but Rafe peered around the corner, just in time to see Kira flipping a pancake in the air while she hummed some tune to herself. He smiled, leaning against the doorframe and watching her, oblivious to his presence, as she worked. She moved with grace, and every once in a while, she cocked a hip or her head to whatever that song was she hummed, a cute and enticing motion that made his cock twitch, despite almost being sore from the workout.
He didn’t know how long he stood there before she loaded the pancake onto a plate, but as she turned off the burners on the stove, Rafe straightened and cleared his throat to announce himself. “Good morning.”
She smiled brilliantly at him, her dark eyes twinkling. “I hope you don’t mind me going through your kitchen.”
He shook his head. “Help yourself.”
“I helped both of us. Have a seat, and I’ll serve you breakfast.” He didn’t miss the way her eyes dropped to his chest and abs and then dipped even lower, assessing the towel slung low on his hips. It made him smirk with a little arrogance to know she couldn’t resist him. He’d never felt so confident about anyone’s attraction to him before.
When she turned back to the food, he sat down, his mouth watering as she delivered a huge meal. “You didn’t tell me you could cook.”
She shrugged, finally taking her own seat. “I grew up in a large family. Everyone learns to cook. There were always friends and club members coming over. We had to be ready to throw something together any time.” She pointed at him with her fork. “Which brings me to the business at hand. When are we taking the plan to the rest of the Flames?”
The fantasy around Rafe came crashing down. Having Kira here with him made it easy to forget that he wasn’t some typical husband with a nine to five, living the dream. The reminder of what he faced next time he walked into the clubhouse doused his euphoria, and he wondered how long he could avoid his brothers.
When he’d left with Kira yesterday, headed home, he’d ignored everyone, some of them simply staring while others tried to catch his attention. He hadn’t cared what anyone thought, but today, the reality of what would fall on his head when he walked in and had to face Corey made him more than a little reluctant to go back. At the same time, when it came to going after Jake, Kira had conjured a plan that only had marginal risk compared to some of their previous attempts to take the Diamond Kings down, and he wanted to present that to the crew. Or rather, have Kira present it. He felt that, if they saw her passion and determination, they’d be more likely to put faith in her sincerity.
“I need to talk to Corey first,” he said out loud, not wanting to bother her with his own issues. She didn’t need to be involved in the politics or worry about the sort of lecture he was going to suffer for getting involved so deeply. “You should stay here and relax. If they agree to hear your plan, I’ll come back for you.”
She stared at him for a moment, and he could almost see the wheels turning in her head. “Should I point out that I’m not your dirty little secret at this point, Rafe? Most of the club saw us leave together yesterday. You can’t delay the confrontation of this world with your club world forever. Unless…” She trailed off.
But Rafe knew the end of that statement. “Unless I’m not serious about this,” he finished for her. She didn’t answer, but the question in her eyes was answer enough. He leaned forward, forcing her to hold eye contact, and he said something he’d never imagined coming out of his mouth. “I can’t make promises about what the future holds, but right now, I can’t imagine going back to being alone and being without you. It doesn’t feel right.”
Kira preened, and Rafe was glad, even if he was terrified of his own admission. Sensing it in his heart and knowing it in his mind were not nearly as tangible as saying it out loud. But he told himself it was worth it for the smile on her face as she dug into her food. Rafe followed suit, picking up his fork. “I’m not hiding you from anyone, but there’s going to be a lot of controversy, and I think you’ll be safer and more comfortable here while I get past all that red tape.”
She sighed. “I guess you’re right. It would be nice if I had a way to get in touch with you, though.”
Rafe’s instincts told him not to trust her. It was his way of life to doubt, and now would be the worst time for her to get her phone back, with the entire plan in mind that she could communicate to her brother. At the same time, he didn’t want her to be without a phone, especially if he wanted to check in with her. “I’ve got a burner phone. I’ll let you use it. Yours is still at the clubhouse.” Which, thankfully, was true and gave him an excuse that wouldn’t hurt her feelings. He just couldn’t risk it. Not yet.
Just in case his emotions were clouding his judgment.
“Fair enough,” she said through a mouthful of eggs, seemingly unaffected. Good. He didn’t sound like a suspicious jerk. Score one for him.
As he strode down the hospital corridor, Kira’s admonishment about not being able to delay confrontation rang through Rafe’s head. But he still hadn’t managed to convince
himself to go to Corey just yet. He figured he’d check in on Zeke first.
But his friend had barely gained consciousness long enough to say a few words, none of which had been of any help to him. Instead, Zeke’s words were little more than mumbles of warning and thanks, the prior about trusting his gut and the latter for getting him to the hospital. He’d also mentioned a nurse, and when Leigh had come in to check Zeke’s vitals, Rafe understood why she would stand out in Zeke’s mind. She was perky and tough, all at the same time, and she was definitely Zeke’s type. But she was a little condescending, obviously not particularly thrilled to be surrounded by bikers.
Getting back on his bike and knowing he now had to face the inevitable, Rafe wondered what Zeke meant about trusting his gut. Was he trying to say that he needed to stick to the status quo, trust the MC, and forget about Kira? Because for years, the Devil’s Flames had been the only moral compass and his only sense of direction.
Or was Zeke suddenly the hopeless romantic who knew the emotional turmoil inside Rafe was pointing toward trusting the outsider who had stolen his heart?
It didn’t matter; Kira had come up with an excellent idea, one that was still dangerous and one he really wanted to alter so that she wasn’t at the center of the peril. But it was probably the best option they had, if they wanted to end this war. And if he was honest with himself, Rafe was tired of chasing Jake Hawthorne. He’d spent the last six years working toward the man’s demise and hadn’t managed it yet. If he couldn’t end it with Jake’s head on a platter soon, he was probably going to give up. And he owed it to Rachel not to walk away without victory.