Knight

by Lana Grayson

  Luke was hurt, and rattling inside the cabin didn’t feel too good on me either. I held the wheel as he dug the glass from his cheek. It wasn’t bad. He didn’t need medical attention, but it didn’t help our escape. Another blast of gunfire from the remaining biker was as unwelcomed as it was accurate.

  A bullet tore through the undercarriage. It didn’t need to strike the tire, only the components that helped maneuver it. The Coup raced forward, but Luke lost control of the truck. He slowed, opening us to an attack from my side.

  I hated to do it.

  I hated the thought of something so pretty, so expensive, and so new lost to sand and motor oil.

  I armed myself with the only weapon I had and rolled down the window. My shoe had a four inch heal, was crafted from perfect Italian leather, and glistened a feisty and confident red.

  At least it wouldn’t show blood.

  My family enrolled me in ballet instead of softball, but I had decent aim. I lurched out the window as Luke yelled. I pitched the shoe. It spun once before slamming into the biker’s face.

  Heel first.

  The bike crashed.

  Luke hauled me into my seat. I held up the remaining shoe with a scowl. “You owe me five hundred dollars.”

  “You’re an expensive fucking rescue.”

  “This isn’t a rescue.”

  Luke straightened the wheel and slowed to where the truck didn’t shudder, shake, and smoke. “Give me more lip, and I’ll take you back to Temple.”

  “They’ll find us anyway.”

  “Just let me fucking save you.”

  “Stop being so valiant, Luke. This isn’t a rescue. This is you fixing your goddamned mistake.”

  “My mistake?” His voice edged with a profanity he’d never aim at me. “I was fucking blindsided. I didn’t even know Blade was dead.”

  I did. “No, but you’ve been working with Temple for a year. You sleep in the bed you made.”

  “I’ve slept with one eye open thanks to Temple. I don’t need you judging me for what I did. I had a plan that would’ve helped us all.”

  “Funny how all your plans end up the same. Men are dead. Guns are aimed at me. At least you didn’t burn Sorceress down this time.”

  I crossed my arms. That only pushed my chest higher. The lacy bra already revealed enough of my girls. What should’ve been a thousand dollar dance jiggled for free in a goddamned biker parade down the deserted highway. I wasn’t ashamed of my body, but now I realized what nearly happened.

  Temple wasn’t just dealing drugs. They dealt in women. And while my worst experience with traffic was getting caught on the 9 during rush hour, men like Temple would have made my life…harder.

  I shivered. Luke shuffled out of his jacket. He tossed it at me.

  It smelled like him—of leather and cedar and a million different shattered memories and abandoned fantasies. I had a bad enough day without facing that misery. I pushed the jacket away and hardened my voice.

  “Come on, Luke. You think I haven’t been naked before?”

  “Think you probably don’t want to be half-naked now.”

  He was right. “I’ll survive.”

  “I’m taking you to the garage.”

  Damn it. First kidnapped by Temple and then dragged to The Coup’s chosen safe ground.

  I zipped the jacket over me.

  “Haven’t flirted with death enough today?” I asked.

  “It’s safe at the garage.”

  “It’s safe at Sorceress too.”

  Luke smirked. His dimples were once a measured diplomacy. Now I was the only one who remembered them. “Obviously not. You better get your five grand back from Thorne. Why the hell would I take you to Sorceress when his men can’t save you from Temple?”

  “Because you haven’t got a choice. Unless you want to start a war, Sorceress is the only neutral ground you’ve got. Anathema won’t ask questions before they shoot, and you always manage to get in their crosshairs.”

  “You’re coming to the garage.”

  Fantastic. Whatever. So long as it was his property destroyed in the firefight this time.

  I knew exactly how it’d look when I hopped out of the truck wearing Luke’s jacket. I was never a girl who tolerated ownership, and I refused even the concept of a property patch.

  There was once a time when I was naïve enough to tolerate the attention from Luke. Then, it wasn’t a bad idea. Kinda fun. Flirty. Sexy.

  That fairytale ended the day he defected from Anathema. War was a good enough reason to end a fantasy before it began.

  He parked in the garage. Two closed bay doors and a handful of lunatics wouldn’t protect us, but it was a hell of a lot safer inside The Coup’s safe house than fleeing through the desert.

  I hopped out of the truck as Luke hugged Grim, slapping his shoulder and offering to buy them a drink. The floor was a mess of oil and grease, and I twirled my one remaining shoe in my hand.

  It shouldn’t have been awkward. Certainly not around Luke, though it was always tense anymore, especially when he caught me in his charm. The rest of the men I knew. They had once lived, breathed, and bled for Anathema. Now, they did all they could to ruin their former club.

  They made their choices. So did I.

  It least it was hard for them to resent a woman in a thong for adhering to her loyalty.

  Luke still bled, but he accepted a clean towel from a hulking man panting from the ride. Vega. I hadn’t seen him around Sorceress since he married my best dancer. I always knew Britney wanted to become an artist, but I never thought a member of The Coup would actually pay for the rest of her college and help her find a job.

  The war between Anathema and The Coup was as bizarre as it was bloodied. And the men trapped within the endless battles? Luke wasn’t a psychopathic criminal, just idealistic to a fault. I didn’t trust the rest of them.

  Grim offered me a roll of paper towels. He was a man who might’ve been a heartthrob had he not preferred his women handcuffed to a bed. He winked and cast the towels from the garage into their appointed chapel, offering me a clean path to walk.

  Absolutely not.

  I lived by two rules, and abiding by them kept me alive and Sorceress standing in the midst of total anarchy.

  First, I never got involved with any of the bikers. Even when I might’ve wanted to. Even when it hurt to stay away.

  Secondly, I stayed clear of their business. I didn’t pay Anathema protection money. It was contracted security. They dealt in smuggled cigarettes and violence. I operated with 1099s and proper tax codes and every legal means by which I could protect myself.

  That meant never stepping within one of their chapels. I didn’t care what they said in church, how they got their money, or what they did before or after they left my club.

  I wasn’t changing my stripes now. Especially when I wasn’t wearing enough clothes to cover them.

  Luke’s long strides mirrored everything graceful I tried to teach my dancers. He did it effortlessly, a pure movement of confidence, and he didn’t realize it. He stood before me. Without my heels, I had to look up to meet his gaze.

  “Did they hurt you?” he asked.

  I wouldn’t admit to it even if they had. “I’m fine.”

  Luke reached for my cheek. The bruise ached, and I stilled so he wouldn’t bump it hard. It hurt enough when his fingers happened to graze my skin without an injury.

  It was a pain I longed to feel, hated to forget, and suffered through for the past year.

  “Son of a bitch.” His words murmured in soft threat. “You’re bruising.”

  I edged away. He didn’t take the hint.

  “I said I’m fine.”

  His thumb brushed over my lip. What might have once been a gentle gesture only stung the cut. My lip swelled beyond pouty and into battered. Instinct kicked in, a learned behavior to protect myself—even from the men who didn’t deserve my attitude.

  I slapped him across the cheek. He retreated as his
men pretended to stay busy. Grim snickered.

  “Shut up, Grim.” I hadn’t needed to scold him since he and Keep Darnell tag-teamed a dancer on my stage. “Luke, take me to Sorceress. Now.”

  Luke didn’t rub his cheek though the red marks probably hurt. “It’s not safe for you there.”

  “I’ll decide what’s safe for me.”

  “Not unless you want to end up as Temple’s whore.”

  “I won’t have time to get fucked if Anathema swoops in here to play hero too.”

  Luke ran a bloody hand over his head, staining his thick, blonde hair crimson. “Don’t make this any harder.”

  “Don’t get me kidnapped and we can play as nice as we want.”

  The steel-tipped footsteps echoed against the garage’s concrete. I didn’t dignify Priest’s approach with a response, though a man like Priest took silence as consent—as well as screaming and fighting. I warned my dancers to stay clear of him. Not everyone took the warning, and not everyone made it home to Sorceress.

  “You okay, Prez?” Priest crossed his arms. The leather creaked. His old patches stretched against the black, worn and faded and still bearing Anathema’s scarred demon insignia. I was surprised he kept the patches. Priest and Luke were some of the first to betray Anathema. Luke left with words. Priest slid out on blood. “You gonna let a bitch talk to you like that?”

  “Yeah.” Luke said. “‘Cause it’s my fault she got hurt.”

  Priest was old enough to be my father, but that didn’t stop him from putting money on my stage, and it didn’t prevent him from looking now. I resisted the urge to zip Luke’s jacket higher.

  He sneered. “If she were my old lady—”

  “I’m not.” I said. Odd for a group of murderers and thieves to descend into awkward silence. “And I’m not Luke’s.”

  I hated how much the words embittered my tongue. I spit the truth just to admit it aloud and spare myself whatever weakness I’d felt for him in the past.

  “How did your guys know where to find us?” I asked. “We were in the middle of the desert.”

  Luke shrugged. “We’re not in church, Lyn.”

  “And I’m not running the info to Anathema. I deserve some answers.”

  “I got recon on Temple. That’s all you need to know.”

  There was more to it than that, but he was right. Safer if I didn’t have a clue.

  “I need a phone,” I said. The men didn’t move, even when I snapped my fingers for a cell. Great. Kidnapped again. “Unless you want Thorne riding over here with his men, I need to call off his dogs.”

  Luke pointed at Grim. “Get the guys here for Church. I’ll take Lyn home.”

  “I don’t need a ride home,” I said. “Take me to my club before Anathema firebombs this garage and you all get killed.”

  Luke had a lot of patience, and he graced me with most of it, but he didn’t become president of a usurped motorcycle club by chance. No matter his smile, his dimples, or even the regal charm he possessed, Luke was still a dangerous man. He didn’t intimidate me. He tried, but I was smart enough to avoid challenging him. Mouthing off wasn’t a savvy business decision, especially when it was hard to dance with broken legs.

  Luke dragged me from his men. He kept a spare bike in the garage. I wasn’t dressed to ride, and I didn’t do side saddle.

  “Not gonna call me a taxi?” I asked.

  He rubbed the cut on his face, but it only made it bleed more. He was too handsome for blood. It improved some men, added to the grizzled roughness that called them to the MC. Not for Luke. He was clean-cut and smart. Shining armor exchanged for a chrome bike, but it was all the same. Blood only reminded me of the war that stole too many friends and created far too many enemies.

  And ruined something between us that might have become fairy tale.

  Luke rubbed the blood on his pants. “I never wanted you involved in this. Where’s a safe place I can take you?”

  I had no reason to doubt him, and every reason to refuse him. “Take me back to Sorceress.”

  “Lyn, I’m serious.”

  “They took the cash I counted for the deposit. I’d like to know how much I lost from this idiocy.”

  “You almost lost your life.”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  Luke stood well over six-foot, two hundred pounds of solid, unyielding muscle. It wasn’t his strength or the guns that made him the most dangerous man of all. He used his head. It got him into trouble, but Luke somehow earned more respect than he deserved. I tried to pretend it wasn’t his baby blues and soothing baritone that convinced me to behave.

  “If Blade Darnell is dead, we’re all in some serious shit,” he said.

  I shrugged. “We’ve been, or haven’t you noticed? Just because men aren’t dying in the street right now doesn’t mean we have peace.”

  “It’s gonna get a lot worse.”

  He didn’t know the half of it, and I wasn’t about to tell him. “It’s not my concern. None of this is my business. Don’t you forget that.”

  “What do you know about Blade?”

  “I know if I don’t get to my club in the next hour, Thorne is going to send his men across the river, and Temple will be the least of your worries.” I lowered my voice. “We’ve been through enough today. Don’t make it worse.”

  “I’m trying to protect you. You know you’re the only woman I—”

  Now I got on the bike. “It’s getting late. Let’s go.”

  “Lyn, I’m gonna need your help.”

  What was I supposed to say to that?

  He didn’t know what went down with Blade, and if we wanted to survive, if we wanted to keep the Valley in one piece, it had to stay that way.

  No matter what trap Temple set, no matter how many men they sent after us, we didn’t have a choice. I didn’t have a choice. Too many people needed my help, and nobody was bothering to think about the consequences. Secrets stayed secret, even if it was a murder or feelings I couldn’t reveal.

  Feelings I knew he felt too.

  “No one can help you now, Luke,” I said. “You knew the danger when you turned from Anathema. Don’t pretend a deal with Temple isn’t a deal with the devil. I won’t get dragged down with you. Not after what you did.”

  Luke set his jaw. The hard angles flexed in the dim light. His expression blended gallant tolerance with an outlaw’s aggression.

  “Let’s go.”

  I didn’t want to piss him off, but it happened. I hated his hardened glare. His eyes were too beautiful to waste on hatred and frustration and violence. I’d looked at him for so many years and saw only confidence and stability and integrity. How had everything gone so wrong?

  And why did it hurt so much to lose something I never had?

  I didn’t speak, and he wouldn’t have answered. He climbed onto the bike. The engines roared in the familiar rumble of danger and excitement. I sunk my fingers into his arms, hoping my nails pricked him, and wishing I hadn’t savored the chance to be close to him.

  Luke Halley was the worst decision I never made. He wasn’t the one who got away. I pushed him from my life before he crashed into it. I broke the heart I never gave to survive the wars he started and the lives he destroyed.

  I wasn’t his to save. He wasn’t mine to protect. We weren’t good for each other, but damn, he might have been my kind of challenge.

  If he was framed for Blade Darnell’s death, the truth would rend the entire Valley in anarchy. It wouldn’t be a war. It would be a massacre.

  And Luke would either hold the gun or he’d be the one riddled with bullets.

  I had a gun to my head, a knife to my throat, and a stripper pissed at me.

  If it weren’t for Blade Darnell’s death, it’d be a normal Friday.

  Our church wasn’t a place of worship, and our prayers sounded more like bargains to whatever reaper came looking. The table had more chairs than men. We owned a gavel, but the officers getting orders didn’t always respect the
one holding it.

  I wasn’t supposed to be president of The Coup.

  Hell, when I first challenged Anathema’s leadership, I meant to start a conversation, not a battle. Times changed, blood spilled, and everyone saw the cracks forming. It just so happened my gun was the loudest when the war started.

  But the man who initially took command of The Coup was dead. Exorcist overextended our power, and he targeted the wrong woman. Thorne killed him and rightfully so. I had no allegiance to Exorcist beyond the patch on his cut, and that scrap of material passed to me.

  So I had the gavel. And I saw what waited for us in the future.

  Pain. Blood. Death.

  The men in my circle were experienced in times of war. They also came to my rescue when I needed them. That was a loyalty I expected from them, but that faithfulness waned with each passing day.

  I drew on a cigarette. It tasted bad, but so did blood. At least I could fumble the filter between my fingers and not long for a more dangerous implement.

  “Temple grabbed me this morning. No warning. Didn’t see it coming, even before they tossed the bag over my head.”

  Grim bummed a smoke. “Didn’t want to mention it, but you look like shit.”

  Felt it too. “Suffice to say, they’re pissed.”

  “They give a reason why?”

  “Yeah, but it won’t make any sense unless you get hit in the head a couple times too.”

  My guys didn’t respond. Silence was normal now. When The Coup first formed, the men were energized. Rejuvenated. Every day was a goddamned parade, and we couldn’t wait to get on our bikes and toss out bullets like candy.

  Funny how time, debt, and the death of a few good men changed things.

  Vega was a man with a heart as big as his gut. He followed me because he trusted me, but he liked to keep things simple. He eyed Priest, watching as my newly appointed VP picked his nails with a knife.

  “Should we worry?” Vega kept one hand on the table, the other on his cell. He meant to call his girl if we had any problems. There was always trouble, but, lately, Britney stopped answering. “I thought everything was sorted out with Temple.”