Chaos Bound (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #4)(70)
Naiya didn’t know whether to be insulted or flattered. Yes, an old lady was the highest rank a woman could achieve in the biker world, but she hadn’t pulled herself out of the gutter just to throw herself back into another one. She had gone to college to make something of herself, and that didn’t mean taking orders, cooking meals, cleaning guns, and sitting on the back of her old man’s Harley on Sunday rides.
“I think I stick with my plan to be a forensic scientist, if that’s okay with you.” She hadn’t missed the fact that he’d said “someone’s” old lady. Not his.
“You gonna be happy working for the man?”
This time she laughed. “‘The man’ will give me a steady job that pays very well and is intellectually challenging and interesting. Plus I have another reason for choosing forensic science. One day, I’m going to find my dad.” She held out her hand, flashed her ring. “There’s a biker out there wearing the Skull Mark ring and DNA that matches mine. You found your family. I’ll find mine.”
“Lots of bikers have skull rings,” he said, his voice gentle. “Hell, I’ll bet most of the Sinners have one ‘cause we got a skull in the center of our patch.” His arms slid around her, and she thought that was a good thing. He needed comfort, and she could give him that. No one had ever needed her before, and she’d never had anything to give.
“So, what are you going to do?” She tensed, didn’t dare breathe as he formulated his answer.
“No Sinners.” His lips whispered over her hair. “I didn’t want to meet them. Tank said he’d come back in the morning. He said he’d sit in the lobby all f*cking day, sleep on the floor, until I came back.”
“I’ve never had a friend like that,” she said. “Ally’s a good friend, and she’s done a lot for me, but you and Tank have something that goes beyond friendship.”
“We’re not gay.”
Naiya laughed. “I kinda guessed that from the way you … know your way around a woman. I just meant it’s a very close friendship.”
“We just got each other, always had each other’s backs. The day we met, I was just hanging around the MC, helping out, hoping they’d ask me to prospect. Tank came over and gave me some tips. Told me what I needed to do.”
“So he’s senior to you?”
Holt stroked a hand through her hair. “We’re both junior patch, but yeah, he’s been with the club a year longer than me.”
“I would have guessed you were older.”
“That’s what happens when life f*cks you over.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “So that first night they sent him out to watch the bikes, and this chick comes and just sits on Zane’s saddle just to get some attention. Tank didn’t want to hurt her, but when he tried to get her off, she kicked him and he fell back, knocked over the row of bikes. Even I knew that was the end for him, so I took the fall. Took one hell of beating, and then the brothers tossed me a bunch of cleaning stuff, told me to detail every bike. Got the first bike done, turned around and Tank was beside me with a rag. It’s been like that ever since.”
“And it will be like that again. Go with him tomorrow and see the Sinners. Give them a chance.”
He twisted his hand in her hair, gently tugged her head back. “If I go, you’re coming with me.”
“I don’t want to go to a biker clubhouse,” she said, pulling away. “It was hard enough going into a bar. You don’t need me. The Sinners will help you get revenge. And since I’m safe in Conundrum, I can stay here until you do what you have to do, or I find a job in another state. I checked my email when I came back and I’ve got interviews at crime labs in Florida, New Mexico, and Rhode Island. There are lots of options.”
“You don’t leave.” He gripped her shoulders in his massive hands, his face contorted in a mask of pain.
Startled by the vehemence in his tone, she pulled away. “We don’t need each other. You have your club back, a revenge mission to see through. I need to get back to my regular life. We’re different people. We want different things. We live in different worlds, lead different lives. The things you do: stealing, and shooting people, running guns—even if you’re doing them to keep me safe—they aren’t okay with me. I can’t live that kind of life. I’m starting a career where I fight crime. I can’t be a criminal or hang around with a criminal organization.”
“You’re scared,” he said firmly. “And that’s why you should go. You can’t keep hiding. You gotta confront the things that scare you. Nothing’s gonna happen to you when you’re with me. The Sinners aren’t like the Jacks. All bikers aren’t the same.”
Holt was right about one thing. She had spent the last seven years hiding. She’d hidden physically and emotionally, burying all memories of that night so she could forge a new life for herself, untainted by the past. But, of course, it had caught up to her, and she was on the run again. Hiding. Not just from Viper, but also from herself and who she longed to be—a woman free to make her own choices, to live without fear. She wanted to be the Phantom of her own damn story.
“Don’t leave.” He reached for her, pulled her into his chest, leaned down and kissed her. Angry and desperate, his kiss was as much a claiming as a plea, a ravaging of her body and her soul.