Chapter 3

COLE

Dahlia wasn’t awake just yet, and I wanted to keep things that way. She’d been pissed when I told her what I’d heard yesterday, and how I’d had to send money to the girl from Iron Serpents. I had no idea why she was so riled up, anyway. I was the vice for the president of the Revenants, so the money was not an issue. But I wasn’t about to dive into argument number two this morning.

I glanced at her. She was still asleep, one hand stretched across the bed like she was reaching out for me. At first I thought about staying and pretending I didn’t have anything to do today. But that wasn’t my life.

I slipped out of bed, grabbed a quick shower, threw on my leathers and stepped outside. The morning air had that smell that always came before rain.

Ambrose had called an impromptu meeting, which usually meant something bad, because he didn’t drag the club out of bed before sunrise unless something was actually wrong.

When I reached the lot, my phone began to ring. Tucking my bike helmet underneath my arm, I pulled out my phone from my pocket and picked the call. It was Ronn, one of my buddies from the club.

“About damn time, Maddox,” was the first thing he said when I picked. “We’ve got a situation. The Crimson Jackals hit one of our warehouses near the south border last night, and they took ammo and parts.”

“Any men down?” I asked, setting my helmet on my bike and pulling a cigarette from my jacket. I lit the cigarette and dragged one out, stepping away from the bike to engage him.

“Just Rico. They left him breathing, but he was barely alive. We need eyes on their routes before they start trading our gear to outsiders.”

I cursed under my breath. Those bloody Jackals were getting too bold. “Do you want me to go check it out?”

"Yeah. You know what Ambrose would do if he found out." Ronn warned. “Take two of the boys quietly and make sure Boss doesn't hear about it. And Maddox—” He lowered his voice. “If you see them, remind them why they don’t cross Revenant territory.”

I flicked the half-smoked cigarette to the ground and crushed it under my boot. “Yeah. I’ll handle it.”

He dismissed me with a grunt and cut the call. I turned toward my bike parked by the curb. My temper was already sitting high at this point.

I swung a leg over, jammed the key in and hit the ignition. The engine roared to life and then sputtered, coughing like it was choking on air.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. I revved it again, but it only growled louder, an ugly sound coming from the back wheel. The brake wasn’t the only thing wrong now.

That mechanic bitch from the Iron Serpents had done me dirty!

"Fucking hell!" I swore. I could feel the anger burning in my chest as I gripped the handlebars. I paid her for that damn repair in cold hard cash. And on top of that, I’d sent her ten grand last night, all because I’d overheard her and her father talking about some freeloaders who hadn’t paid her.

I didn’t know what the hell came over me. Maybe guilt, or the way I'd seen her so broken after her father had chewed her out.

She was a pretty little thing, even with that sharp mouth. Way too young for me, though. What was she, twenty-five or twenty-six? I was forty-five, and I knew better than to let my head wander there.

Still, I couldn’t lie to myself. She had that wild look in her eyes, and she looked like the type of woman that you wanted to do things for.

I hit the handle, revving harder again and again. The bike jerked forward, and the sound it produced was ugly but functional. I could still drive it, but it wasn’t right.

“Damn it!” I hissed, slamming my palm against the tank. “This is what I get for stepping foot in Iron Serpent territory.”

I was already late. I was supposed to roll out within the hour, and now this piece of metal was threatening to make me look unreliable.

There wasn’t a decent mechanic in Revenant territory. Not one I trusted, anyway. That was the only reason I’d crossed into Iron Serpent grounds yesterday and of course, the first person I meet is a mouthy girl with attitude who wanted to ruin my fucking bike!

If she weren’t so damn pretty, I probably would’ve sent my men to trash her workshop just to teach her some respect.

I rubbed a hand down my face, growling under my breath. “You better pray you’re there when I get back, sweetheart.”

I twisted the throttle again, forcing the bike into motion. The engine squealed in protest, but it moved. I had half a mind to turn back and make her fix what she messed up.

Actually, scratch that. That’s exactly what I was going to do. The Revenant emergency could wait.

********

By the time I got to the Iron Serpent garage, the sky had cracked and rain was falling in sheets. Everywhere was way too dark for a morning. A terrible weather to match my terrible mood.

I swung my leg off the bike, anger still burning from earlier. I could feel it sitting behind my eyes. That damn girl had deliberately messed with my bike, I was sure of it. I paid her for the work, didn’t I? Hell, I even wired her an extra ten grand last night because I felt pity for her. Maybe I was being decent for once, and look how that turned out!

I shoved the door of the garage open and stepped inside. The place was brightened by a single lamp, humming faintly with the sound of tools in motion. The first thing I saw was her dark red, wavy hair, peeking out from under the hood of a bike.

She looked up from under, a streak of oil smeared across her cheek. When she saw that it was me, her eyes turned dark with annoyance, and she pushed herself from under the bike, getting to her feet. Her hair was supposed to be in a single braid, but large red strands had slipped from the confines and were all over the place around her face. The blue coveralls she had on were rolled at the sleeves, hugging her curves in a way that made my gut twist.

“What the hell did you do to my bike?” I roared without preamble, tossing my keys onto the nearest table. They clattered loud enough to drive home my point.

Her brows knitted. “Excuse me? Why the fuck did you barge in like that?”

“You heard me.” I growled, rain dripping off my jacket. “You messed up my ride. The brake was fine yesterday, now something else is off. Do you think I don’t notice?”

She crossed her arms and squared her shoulders, staring at me haughtily. “Maybe if you actually knew how to handle a bike, you wouldn’t be breaking something every damn day.”

I gritted my teeth. "I am not... careless!"

“I’m not calling you careless, I'm calling you clueless,” she grabbed a rag to wipe her hands, then turned back to me with a cocked eyebrow. “Throwing money at a problem does not fix it. Maybe try not riding your bike like a maniac next time.”

“Don’t start with me!” I warned, stepping in until I was right in front of her. “You touched something you shouldn’t have, and I don’t care if you think you’re a genius mechanic, I know my bike!”

“Then fix it yourself!” She yelled the words in my face. God, she had nerve.

I could feel the heat crawling up my neck, not just from anger anymore. She was infuriating, sure, but damn if she didn’t look good all riled up like that. Her lips were parted, her hair sticking to her face from the heat of the shop. She couldn’t have been more than mid-twenties, maybe less, and that realization made me hate myself a little more.

She caught me staring and frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” I muttered. “You’re just... never mind.”

She advanced closer to me. “No, go on! You storm into my shop yelling like a toddler, now you’re staring at me like I grew two heads?”

“I’m staring because I can’t believe someone can be this stubborn and still think they’re right.”

“Maybe because I am right!” She snapped, snatching the keys off the table and shoving them against my chest. “Go and ruin your bike somewhere else, mister ‘I know my engine.’”

I grabbed her wrist before she could pull away. “You don’t talk to me like that!”

She glared at my hand. “Let go!”

I didn't. The rain outside was pounding hard against the tin roof, thunder rolling so close it rattled the windows. I should be handling the Crimson Jackal problem right now, and I hated that instead I was here with her. Her wrist was small in my grip, warm and tense. I realized what I was doing and released her.

“Asshole!” She muttered, turning away to grab another tool.

“Bitch!"

She gasped and swivelled around to face me again. “You think the world revolves around you, don’t you?”

I laughed. “No, sweetheart. Just my bike, which you just messed with!"

She started to wave the large screwdriver in her hand in my face, when the lightbulb above our heads flickered a few times, and then went out completely.

The room plunged the both of us into darkness.