“Hey,” I rumbled, keeping my voice low as I didn’t want to disturb her if she was resting.
“Link?”
Though I’d expected it, it came as no surprise when her voice was soft and gentle to the point where it was hard to make out my own fucking name.
I stepped into the gloomy room, which hadn’t been redecorated in way too long—while the outside was utilitarian sixties, in here, it was fucking flower power to the max—and used the faint light coming from the windows at the back of the bed to maneuver to her side.
“Yeah. It’s me.” I dropped to a crouch beside her. “How you doing, Ghost?”
“Everything hurts,” she admitted, but she laughed. Fucking laughed. And that broke my damn heart. “I’m getting better though.”
“Glad to hear it, honey.” I reached over, cautious because I didn’t want her to flinch like the others had. The last thing I intended was to cause her pain or anxiety.
“I-I’m sorry to disturb you, but you’re the only man I’ve really spoken to and I-I, the others, Stone and Giulia, they seem to like you. I feel like you might be the right person to ask—” She hesitated. “You’ve already done so much for all of us. More than we could have hoped for.”
I reached over and squeezed her arm again. “Ask, Ghost.”
“Please, I have a sister—”
“Did Luke get her too?”
“No,” she rasped, but her eyes flared wide in terror at the prospect. “Her situation is different.”
Inwardly wincing at derailing that conversation and maybe adding to her nightmares, I muttered, “Different how?”
“My mother left the Ukraine when I was a little girl. She came here and got married. My sister is American, but our mother died a few years after she was born, and her father passed in a car crash a year ago.”
Jesus, how much bad luck did this girl have?
Unaware of my thoughts, Ghost continued, “I was denied a visa so I came a different way.” Her smile was tight. “I promised her I’d be there for her, but Luke happened.”
I patted her hand. “You have some details for her? I’ll find a way to get in touch.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Thank you, Link,” she whispered. “I truly appreciate this as well as everything else you’ve done for me.”
“Done nothing more than another human being should do for another. Just because you’ve been exposed to the worst out there, don’t forget, for most people, decency isn’t a curse word.”
Look at me go—preaching like I was a decent person.
If I went into church, I was the kind of guy who would cause the holy water to start bubbling and boiling. Nothing about me was decent in the eyes of the world. But… Sometimes, you just had to compare yourself to the worst cunt out there to realize you weren’t that fucking bad.
I got up from my crouch and murmured, “Tatána and Amara are scared of me. Why aren’t you?”
Her features were delicate from how much weight she’d lost, and her skin had a strange translucency I didn’t understand but fuck, after I’d been in a cage underground for however long, I hoped I’d look as good as she did. Her elfin features were only enhanced by a pixie cut, something I had to assume was a medical decision considering the others all sported the same style when they’d had long hair back in those cages, and her smile, delicate but beautiful, burrowed into me, making me grateful I hadn’t ignored Lily, that we hadn’t given up on finding these women, innocents who’d been dragged into a world they didn’t deserve.
“You saved us. You went into that basement. You helped us out of those cages. They are silly to be frightened of you. You’re our saviors.”
My nose crinkled at that. “I’m not a good man.”
“But you’re a decent one.”
“Not really—”
She smiled. “I choose to believe what I choose to believe.”
That had me sighing and, determined to change the subject, I asked, “Where was your sister last?”
“St. Jude’s Orphanage in Cincinnati.”
I dipped my chin. “I’ll find a way to get you in touch with one another.”
“Thank you, Link,” she whispered, this time, her tone so soft, I only heard my name as I headed out the door.
Before I left, though, I muttered, “Concentrate on getting better, Ghost. You hear me?”
“Yes, I hear you, Link.”
“Good.”
* * *
The Next Day
“Declan?”
“Link? What the fuck do you want?”
My lips twitched. “Wonderful to hear your voice too, Dec.”
A grunt sounded down the line. “If you say so. There a reason for this call, or you just blowing smoke up my ass?”
“If that’s what gets you hot under the collar—”
“Okay, fucker,” the Five Pointer growled. “Let’s get shit on the road. Don’t need you talking sweet nothings in my ear. What do you want?”
“Got a few questions about a guy called Donavan Lancaster. You heard of him?”
“Can’t not know who that bastard is.” Another grunt, then I heard a scrawl like he was making notes. I didn’t think it was about this conversation because he sounded absentminded, like he wasn’t focusing on what we were discussing. “He built Landis Scraper and has a few other projects that got Finn all riled up when the plans were revealed.”
Because I wasn’t a total heathen, the name prompted me to inquire, “How is Finn, by the way?”
“Taken to fatherhood like a charm. It’s fucking sickening.”
My lips curved at that because, even though he sounded partially disgusted, I heard something I didn’t think he realized he’d revealed—yearning.
I got it. For the first time in my life, I fucking got it. Which kind of blew my mind.
Declan was about my age, after all. When a man passed thirty, he started questioning shit. Shit he probably shouldn’t question but did anyway. And when forty was on the horizon? Fuck.
“Glad to hear it.” I cleared my throat with the niceties out of the way. “Any reason Donavan Lancaster would know we were working together?”
“We as in the Five Points and the MC?” He hummed under his breath. “Not as far as I know.” Another hum. “Wait. Lancaster? Isn’t that the fucker Nyx’s girl took out?”
“Yeah. His son. Daddy is causing shit for us.”
“I’ll bet. That fucker was his blue-eyed boy. Saw him around most of the party spots. Even went to a few of our clubs. Didn’t like him. Got called in once to deal with him. He’d beaten the fuck out of a girl he’d been trying to pick up. Didn’t like it when she said no.”
“Why didn’t you report it?”
He snorted. “Since when do we go to the police over shit like that? I stuck a gun under his chin, told him if he darkened our doors again I’d blow his brains out. Then, I told him I’d blow off his cock if he approached the girl and sent her home with one of our foot soldiers.” A laugh sounded down the line. “They just had their second kid.”
“You matchmaker you,” I joked, amused at that particular irony.
Declan muttered, “Yeah, regular fucking Cupid, that’s me.” Maybe the two of us should go into partnership? “Anyway, no. I don’t see why the daddy would know about our mutual interests. Why do you ask?”
“He’s trying to use our connection against us. Leverage with the cops.”
“Well, let him. It’s not like we don’t have the pigs in our pockets.”
“True.” I grunted. “Was just hoping there’d be a reason for him knowing that kind of shit.”
“That kind of money, he’ll have ears everywhere—” His voice waned. “I see what you mean. Thanks for the heads up, Link. I appreciate it.”
When the dial tone clicked in my ear, I grimaced.
Great.
Heads up or heads roll…I wasn’t sure which was likely to be going down in the Five Points today.
&nbs
p; Dialing through to Rex, the second he picked up I muttered, “Declan doesn’t know of a reason why Lancaster would be aware of our connection, but I might have just started a fucking witch hunt.”
Rex groaned. “Good going, Link. What was that shit about you being a scalpel and Nyx being a jackhammer?”
I pulled a face. “He didn’t give me a chance to get a word in edgewise.”
“Fuck.” Rex blew out a breath that gusted down the line. “It’s not ideal, but leave him to it. Maybe he’ll find a snitch, and if he does, we’ll have our answers.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I still grimaced though. I was proud of my ability to ferret out shit for the club, and couldn’t help but feel like I’d let Rex down.
“Where you at?”
“The garage. Need me at the clubhouse?”
“No. Carry on. You going to have the books to me soon?”
My mouth tightened. “I’ll get them to you when they’re fucking ready.”
“It’s already mid-goddamn-month, Link—”
“And I told you I didn’t want to manage this place. I’m a fucking mechanic. Not management.”
“Well, I want you to be both so get your goddamn act together.”
For the second time in as little as twenty minutes, someone put the fucking phone down on me. I growled under my breath then threw a wrench at the bulletproof window that linked my office to the workshop. Pissed when it didn’t shatter, even though I knew it wouldn’t, I got some satisfaction out of Gunner and Jaxson, a brother and a Prospect, jerking in surprise at the noise.
Ignoring them, I looked at the books in front of me. Rex seemed to think I’d been ignoring them, but fuck, I hadn’t. For some reason, the numbers just seemed to jump off the page at me no matter how hard I worked to keep shit in line.
I’d gone so far as to transfer all the stuff Gunner input into the computers onto a work pad in the vain hope I’d be able to tally shit up, but to no avail. Back when I’d been in school, I’d probably have been given a fancy name for why I was shit with figures, but that stuff didn’t wash in an MC. Dyslexic or not, I was expected to do my part. Even if that part felt like I was being asked to find a cure for world fucking hunger.
As I glowered at the books, I wondered if there was something else I could do, something else I could procrastinate over…
I picked up my phone. It had been quiet for a little while because I knew Lily was in a class at the country club. Just the thought of her bending in all those weird positions had me corralling a boner.
Still, I’d prefer to pester her than do the shit I was in this office for…
Me: You still at yoga?
Lily: Just out. Why?
Seven
Lily
I was nervous.
Very, very nervous.
Maybe I was doing something stupid, maybe it was reckless, and maybe it would only end in me being hurt, but this wasn’t even a rebellion. This wasn’t something I was doing to spite anyone. It was simply because I thought Link was gorgeous. Because he made me laugh. And he had something about him that made me want to know more.
We had nothing in common. Our pasts were too different for that and yet, I was showing him the real me, the true Lily, and he wasn’t revolted. Wasn’t disgusted. He liked me. Liked me despite the fact I was a Lancaster, a family who was putting his MC and a woman he cared about through the ringer.
It was depressing to accept that he might be doing this to punish me for what Luke had done and what my father was doing. But even believing that this was just going to end in heartbreak, I wanted to do it.
Needed to do it.
This was my body, and it was my choice what I did with it.
I blew out a breath as I stared out at the pool beyond the terrace. Tiffany had, as promised, made her escape to the main house where her father was out at work and her mother, quite fortuitously, was visiting Las Vegas for a bachelorette party.
This place was, for all intents and purposes, mine. Paul and Alix were none the wiser about what I was doing, and the only potential flaw to my plan was Link not being able to get to the house.
I gnawed on my bottom lip even as I tugged at my shirt. Tiffany had called me insane for not changing my clothes, but this was me. Yoga pants and all. The only difference from my regular outfit was that I didn’t have a sports bra on, but a pretty lacy one. Matching red panties too.
I wore a light tee, had flip-flops on my feet, and my Apple watch on my wrist, and a pair of gold hoops in my ears. No makeup. No other jewelry. No artifice. Nothing.
Nada.
He was getting me.
Lily Lancaster.
The real me. The one he’d been getting to know. The one who, I thought, he liked.
God, I hoped he did.
I hoped this wasn’t one big ploy.
The pool sparkled. Its huge, kidney shape was one big invitation to jump into it and enjoy the chill against my overheated skin. I was nervous, antsy, and darting around Tiffany’s place like an ant on acid as I tried to work off the energy coursing through me.
This was crazy.
We’d only talked via text. Our meetings hadn’t exactly been pleasant. But…
Shit, Tinder dates started with less, didn’t they?
If I wanted to hook up with a down and dirty biker, then I freakin’ could!
Bolstered by that defiant thought, I straightened my shoulders, wiped my palms down against the sides of my pants, and leaned against the verandah door.
It was no punishment to look over the landscaping that had probably cost Tiffany’s father a small fortune, what with the fully matured palm trees that were dotted here and there as well as patches of cacti gardens…the shape of the pool and the way the water licked at the sides, with no tiles around the rim, it was like an oasis. A mirage, even. A verdant and luxurious one.
I folded my arms across my chest, taking the opportunity to check the time. When I saw it was a few minutes past the time he’d told me he’d be here, I felt disappointment start to unfurl. Of course, he might not be punctual, but I just had a feeling—a bad one—that this was all going to come tumbling down around me.
I’d shown too much of the real me, I realized. No one wanted to know that much about a woman. It wasn’t something that any man—
“Link!” I whispered, straightening up as I saw him round the corner of the main house and stride across the garden toward the pool house like he had every right to be there.
My heart surged into my throat and my stomach bottomed out as I watched his approach.
Everything about him was dangerous. I saw it in him, just like I’d seen it in my father and brother. It was an energy about them, a chaotic force I didn’t understand. With my family, I didn’t want to understand. Link? Yeah. I did. Call me crazy, but I really did.
I was under no illusions. I’d googled the Satan’s Sinners’ MC long before I’d decided to get in touch with them, and I knew what they were involved in. When Father had mentioned the Five Points, I’d googled them too.
Mafia.
Or, to be more precise, the Mob. The Irish Mob.
Which, according to Father, the Sinners were tied up with.
That ‘business’ was only the peak of a mountain worth of trouble the Sinners represented, but for all that, I didn’t want to hear it. I was informed, I knew the worst, and I was going headfirst into this anyway because that smile? Those eyes? The long-limbed, loose gait of his as he moved toward me?
How could I say no?
He wore a pair of jeans, his boots, and that cut—his usual uniform—but this time, he wore a Henley. It was kind of disappointing not to be able to see his biceps because they were delicious, but I comforted myself with the knowledge that I’d be seeing a lot more of him soon.
My belly throbbed at the thought and my heart started pounding.
God.
I was going to expire before he even managed to touch me!
“Hey, sweetness. Sorry I had to shuffle thing
s a little later. Had some shit to handle.”
His greeting surprised me. As did the lazy smile that set fire to my insides. It was affectionate and warm. And I knew it was stupid, but I could see…he liked me. That smile was impossible to feign.
It was senseless, but that made me shy. Me. Shy. A woman who’d eaten dinner with three Presidents of the United States, who routinely attended events with celebrities and politicians. Who was quite at ease in most situations thanks to having a control freak for a father.
Yes. Me. I was shy.
I bowed my head and smiled at him, my gaze on his lips until he chuckled, reached up, and with his pointer finger, tipped my chin up. “None of that, sweetness,” he stated firmly, but he was smiling.
With his eyes.
My throat felt tight, so I just waved a hand, silently inviting him inside. I wished he’d pushed into me, had kissed me straight off the bat, maybe that would have taken my nerves away. But he didn’t. He stepped over the threshold, peered around, and murmured, “Where’s the television?”
For a second, I could do no more than gape at him. “Huh?”
“You heard me, sugar tits. The TV?”
My brow puckered—had I mislabeled this? Made him think this was—
He snorted. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. Women.” Link tutted, folding massive arms over his chest as he stared at me. “Always overthinking. I want to watch Chopped with you.”
“What if it isn’t on?”
“It’s always on,” he scoffed with an eye roll, making me smile.
“You command it, huh?”
“I more than command it.”
“Not sure that’s possible.”
“You going to bring out a thesaurus?”
I laughed. “If that’s what gets you hot.”
He smirked, then his gaze raked up and down over me, making me flash with unexpected heat. “I’ll tell you what gets me hot. Seeing you in yoga pants so tight I can see your camel toe.”
Said camel toe pulsed even as I peered down in horror. “I don’t have a camel toe!” I argued, but before I could even finish the sentence, he was suddenly there, and his hand was between my legs.
Link: SATAN’S SINNERS’ MC: TWO Page 14
