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  “Yeah, and I can’t get to her. I have no fucking clue what’s happening.”

  “She’s alive. They’re just being overly cautious.”

  After taking Sable to the hospital almost two weeks ago, Hank and Grass had admitted her, keeping security on her room twenty-four seven. One of the Hell’s Slaves brothers was dating a chick who worked at the hospital, so they were able to get some updates, but not nearly enough. Sable was supposed to be in her rented house where he could keep an eye on her.

  She’d been covered in fucking blood and he had to stand there and watch as another man carried her out. Another man was her hero when it should be him. Forge was taking this way too far.

  The last time he’d seen Sable like that was after she’d been shot by Hound. All those feelings of desperation came flooding back. It was when he’d realized he loved her. Now he knew he couldn’t lose her.

  “It’s been over a week. She already told you Grass isn’t clean. What more do you want?”

  Forge stood up from his chair, setting his beer down. “Listen, Grass isn’t a fool. He’s smarter than the cop. He’s cautious. He probably had his own doubts about Sable. That’s why I went to the diner,” said Forge. “Now she’s one of them. He’ll pull her up to the next level.”

  “What level is that?”

  “Listen, Dog, I’m on this. I have the boys checking the ports, finding as much information as they can. Before we pull her out, we need to be sure. This is the kind of shit that can bury us. Sable understands that. Maybe you should take note.”

  Forge walked away.

  Dog headed out to the main yard. He was done with this shit. He planned to ride into town and find out exactly what was happening with Sable. As he geared up next to his bike, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He whirled around.

  It was Beth.

  She didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Promise me you won’t tell Forge I talked to you.”

  He nodded without a second thought.

  “Sable called me. They’re having a party at Grass’s country club tonight. She’s scared.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Forge?”

  “You know he puts the club first, but Sable’s my friend. You care about her, too. I know what’s going on, Dog.”

  He ground his teeth hard. Beth wasn’t supposed to know about this. If Forge found out Sable talked to his old lady about their secret plans, he’d never let her back in the club. Loyalty had to come first.

  “Okay. I’ll deal with this. Keep your mouth shut if you care about Sable. Forge isn’t a forgiving man.”

  She swallowed hard but nodded her agreement.

  He watched her walk off, joining the others in the dining hall for supper. Dog mounted his bike and brought her to life. The roar fueled him. He should bring backup with him, especially knowing how deep Grass was in the underworld, but he couldn’t risk Forge putting a halt to everything. Dog needed to keep Sable safe.

  As he rode toward town, he remembered Sable’s sweet scent when they’d spent the night together. She was young and innocent. He hadn’t set one inappropriate hand on her that night. It was just open, gentle, honest. He fucking loved her.

  He neared the country club. Cars were lined up along the rural roadside for half a mile. This was no little party. How was he supposed to get in there and blend with a bunch of suits?

  Dog parked his bike off the beaten path and jogged across the road toward the club. The sun had nearly set, making his presence less noticeable. He wished it had been darker.

  The drone of fake conversations already grated on his nerves. The practiced laughs, empty compliments, and prideful bullshit was opposite to life at the club. He wanted to be back there right now—with Sable.

  He scanned the crowds, weaving around the throngs of people. His leather jacket was zipped up, and he tried his best to keep off the radar. If Little or Grass recognized him, this was over.

  They had private security, and he made sure not to make eye contact with any of them. He grabbed a flute of champagne as he spun around, pretending to belong. Where the fuck was Sable? Beth said she’d be here tonight.

  He made his way to the building next to the pools, peering in the windows as he sipped his drink. It tasted like sugar and piss, so he dumped the rest into the grass. He preferred the hard stuff.

  Inside, he noticed a lot of girls. A couple of them looked scared, and they weren’t dressed like the women mingling outside. He kept moving, taking notes as he tried to get a better view into the room. As he rounded the building, he stopped before turning the corner. There were a lot of gruff voices, and he recognized one of them—the prez of a rival club. He wouldn’t put it past him to bend over for Grass. The end of the Hell’s Slaves MC was at the top of Grass’s agenda. While some clubs were happy to be “yes men” for the right price, even for crooked politicians, Forge wasn’t one of them. Sure, he’d do their dirty work, but on his own terms.

  He went back the same way, coming face-to-face with one of the security guards. Dog towered over him.

  “You gonna blow your fucking whistle?”

  “You on the guest list?” asked the guard.

  “I work with Grass. I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate you pissing me off,” he said. “Why don’t you make sure all these rich bitches have their glasses full?”

  The guard backed off, but Dog did have an imposing presence, even when he wanted to appear approachable. He opened the first door he came across and bit the bullet, entering the building. He had no clue who was inside, but he was getting nowhere searching the grounds for Sable.

  There was an older guy stuffed in a suit, two young girls on either side of him. His hand under one of their dresses. He knew whores, and this didn’t look consensual to him.

  A cop approached him, giving him pause. Bikers and cops never meshed well, especially when one was trying to steal his woman.

  “Like anything you see?”

  “Huh?”

  “Looking to buy something long-term or is this a one-night thing?”

  It took Dog a minute to catch on. He scanned the room with new eyes. They were fucking trafficking girls. He scrubbed a hand down his face. Right now, he wished he had the club at his back. This was solid proof they could use against Grass. It would mean Sable could come home.

  “Maybe an hour thing. You have any virgins?” asked Dog.

  The cop smirked. “You have expensive taste.”

  Dog shrugged, following the cop as he was led through the spacious connecting rooms. There were nasty suits drooling over young women in every corner, like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was surreal when this was supposed to be the party for a would-be politician. Grass was more fucked up than Peterson.

  When they emerged into a long, narrow hallway, Dog unzipped his jacket and pulled out his gun, knocking out the cop before lowering him to the ground. He patted him down, taking his radio and gun before taking the staircase into the basement.

  There were crates upon crates of automatic rifles, an assortment on display on a table. Fuck! This wasn’t a good position for him to be in. Dog pulled out his cell and called Forge, but there was no signal in the basement. He needed to get out of the country club but didn’t want to leave without Sable. They wouldn’t leave a cache of weapons this size alone, so Grass and his men couldn’t be far.

  Dog looked for another way out of the basement when he heard footsteps coming down after him. Voices grew louder. They had to have found the cop’s body upstairs.

  He wasn’t worried about jail. He was worried about not getting out of here alive.

  ****

  Sable touched up her lipstick in the power room. She hated wearing makeup, but Hank wanted her to look the part. He said it made her appear older and more sophisticated. She’d never fit into his crowd, and she didn’t want to.

  She’d talked with Beth in the morning, and she hoped Dog would come for her. After he’d stood on the sidelines at the diner while she bled out on the ground, she
wasn’t sure if he even cared anymore. It had been almost two weeks since she’d been rushed to the hospital, and not a word from Dog, Forge, or anyone at the club. She truly felt abandoned, like she was on her own in every way.

  She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her black hair was brushed out smooth. Hank kept telling her to cut it as it was well past her waistline, but she knew Dog loved it the way it was. The women in these finer circles had shorter cuts and Hank said her long hair made her look feral. He constantly reminded her of where she came from like some kind of stain she could never fully remove.

  She didn’t care what he thought.

  Sable took a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t hide out in here forever. Her body had healed from the ordeal at the diner. It looked much worse than it was with all the blood. Luther and Hank had used the opportunity to segregate her further, attempting to pry information from her at every chance. She spent her days locked up in a private hospital room even though she’d fully recovered nearly a week ago.

  Knowing about all their underground dealings made her anxious being under lock and key. But if Dog didn’t care about her anymore, what did she have to go back to? Certainly not her own family.

  Within seconds of exiting the bathroom, Hank was there, his hand on her back. Part of her felt suffocated by the cop, but she also knew that without him around, she’d have seen a much worse side of Luther Grass. He wanted to use her as biker bait, even if it cost her her life. Hank wouldn’t hear of it, insisting she was good for information.

  “You look beautiful in that dress,” he said, leading them toward the pools. It was still hard for her to walk in heels, and she struggled to balance.

  “Thank you.” She felt completely out of place, zipped up into a dress that reined in all her curves, making it difficult to breathe. She still looked several sizes larger than the women mingling at the party.

  She knew this party was different from the others. It wasn’t just about raising campaign funds or kissing ass. Grass was pulling in his contacts, the ones he didn’t want publicized. She’d seen some of Hell’s Slaves rivals, which made her nerves ramp up. A lot of big players in the underworld were being round up, and she knew it was only the first stage of trying to wipe out Forge’s club. She’d kept her eyes and ears open at every chance to soak up as much intel for her prez.

  “Next week is important for Luther. Once he’s voted in, he can start fulfilling his campaign promises,” said Hank. “Do you remember his number one commitment?”

  “Getting rid of the Hell’s Slaves?”

  He nodded with a smile. “Then all your worries will be over, sweetheart. All those heathens will be dead, behind bars, or driven far away from our jurisdiction.”

  She smiled back.

  “You’ll be safe and won’t have to look over your shoulder.”

  “And you trust Grass?”

  He chewed on his lip for a bit, continuing to walk. “He’s a complicated man, but he has big plans. Great plans.”

  “Hank, won’t another club just fill in the void once the Hell’s Slaves is gone?”

  This time, he chuckled. “Grass will have everything covered. He’s not a pushover like Peterson was. Trust me.”

  She was tempted to ask him about the young women who’d been brought in by the vanload and the sleazy characters she’d seen mingling in the shadows. But she didn’t want to let on how much she knew and blow everything. Grass was involved in drugs, guns, and women. It was a mess.

  “I’m glad to hear that. After tonight, I’d like to go back to my house. There’s no need for me to spend any more time at the hospital. I’ve never felt better.”

  “I’ve told you, Sable. It’s for your safety. Until Grass is elected, he can’t protect you the way he’d like.”

  “I feel like a prisoner,” she said. Sable missed Dog sneaking into her house. She missed everything about him, and she wondered if he thought about her at night, too. Hank was getting too territorial lately, and faking or not, no woman would put up with it for long.

  Hank stopped and faced her, holding both her hands in his. She cringed. “You should be used to it where you come from, Sable. By the way, you should consider changing your name. It sounds like a stripper’s name.”

  She held her breath and bit her tongue.

  “It’s hard enough being a cop with an ex-biker for a girlfriend. If you’re ever going to be my wife, a lot of things will need to change. It’s not me, of course, but people do judge.”

  “Of course,” she managed to squeak out.

  He exhaled, satisfied with himself.

  “Let’s get something to eat.” He led them to the big pool house. She could smell meat being barbequed.

  As they neared the building, she heard the familiar roar of motorcycles. The sound made her entire body tingle as it reminded her of Dog coming home after a run. She always looked forward to seeing him.

  Hank heard it too and let go of her hand, rushing to the building where Grass and his higherups were. She walked closer to the road in an attempt to see the bikes. Was it the Hell’s Slaves or another rival club?

  “Nice party.”

  The voice from behind was so close to her ear she swore she could feel his lips.

  She attempted to turn her body but he wrapped his arms around her waist first, keeping her in place.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I can’t check up on my girl?”

  “They’ll see you, Dog. You have no idea how many big names are at this party.”

  “Oh, I have an idea or two.”

  This time, she twirled her body around in the confines of his strong arms. “Did you kill anyone?”

  He smirked.

  God, he looked so damn sexy. There wasn’t anything he could do that would push her away. He smelled of leather and his rich cologne. She wanted to close her eyes and drown in him, allow him to fend off the world.

  “Seriously, what’s going on?”

  He stared down at her, not concerned in the least. Was he even listening to what she was saying?

  “This dress, you pick it?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s too fucking tight. And what is all this shit on your face?” He ran his thumb along her lower lip, then waited for her to take him in her mouth. Her pussy flooded with wetness. He pulled his thumb free, combing his hand into her hair.

  “I’m playing a role.”

  “A little too well,” said Dog. He wasn’t worried about the dozens and dozens of people around them. He didn’t blend at all. His entire focus was riveted on her alone. “You haven’t been to your house. I don’t like you being out of my reach. You’re getting way too cozy with the enemy, no?”

  “I don’t like this any more than you, Dog.”

  “Well, tonight, you’ll be in my bed.”

  She gasped as his lips came down on hers. She melted against him—his strength, his confidence, his ability to get his way.

  His tongue dominated, one hand roughly in her hair, the other squeezing her ass. When he pulled away, his eyes were intense. Everything about Dog was raw masculinity. “You gonna be able to straddle my bike with this dress?”

  Was he actually planning on whisking her away, ending this fucked-up charade once and for all?

  “Tell me what’s happening. You’re scaring me.”

  He squatted down low and came up as he slid a razor-sharp blade along her dress, creating a slit right up to her hip. “Think I can’t take care of my girl? We’re going home. This whole thing never should have happened, but it’s over now.”

  “You have enough evidence? Are you sure we pulled it off?”

  He grabbed her upper arm, leading her out of the pool area toward the street. The roar of bikes was still echoing in the rural landscape.

  “The bikes…”

  “Forge is going to show Grass exactly who owns this fucking town.”

  Relief flooded her veins. The club equaled safety. This was all going to be resolve
d tonight.

  “So, everything’s okay? Forge approved this?”

  “Forge listens to his old lady. She knew you were in trouble, and after tonight, we have more than enough to bury Grass.”

  “What about you, Dog? You sure you want to be here?”

  He stopped dead, when all she wanted was to be far from the country club and on the safety of his bike. Dog tilted her chin up. “If you’re talking about what happened to you at the diner, that was the hardest day of my life. I had to stand there and watch when all I wanted to do was take care of you.” He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek and she leaned into his touch. “Now the game is over. Now you’re mine.”

  Chapter Eight

  “You good?” Dog asked, looking at Forge, who sat in his office at the clubhouse.

  He’d taken Sable and got her to the club, only to come back in time to see everything go down with Grass. Dog had taken all the evidence he needed, blending into the party like a sore thumb, but along with it, he’d gotten the whole conversation with the cop recorded, not to mention the evidence leading to the weapons, the girls, even a couple of men and women talking about drugs and the hope of expanding distribution. Everything they needed had fallen right into their laps and it wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for Sable. That woman needed to be rewarded.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “What’s the problem then?” Dog folded his arms, seeing the concern on Forge’s face. “We got everything we wanted.”

  “And to do it, you went behind my back getting Beth involved. I don’t like that. Sure, we’ve put Grass in his place and he’s already made the call to step down. His career in politics is over. It won’t stop him, though. We swiped his position of power right out from under him. He’s going to come back harder.”

  Dog laughed. “I think you’re overthinking that kind of shit. He hasn’t got anything to come back to. Honestly. We’ve got this.”

  Forge stared at him. “You think I wanted to put Sable in danger? Do you think I enjoyed any part of this?”

  “Forge,” he said.

  “Don’t even fucking start with me. This shit is bigger than even I imagined. You weren’t smart tonight. The kind of game Grass was in, it was way over his head and we’re the ones in the firing line. Think about that.” Forge picked up his shot of whiskey and slugged it back, then poured himself out a fresh shot.