My father wore a mask for the public. He donned expensive suits and watches that cost more than some people’s homes, and he’d wave at the photographers, a big ole smile on his face as he beamed at the world because he owned it. Or, at least, a chunk of it. The world was his bitch, and he rode it hard and wet.
It was only when he came home, when the front doors were closed, that things changed. That smile turned dark. Twisted. It was even worse when he’d grab my hair and slam my face into his fist. Worse still when he’d pushed my mom down the stairs that night, all with that cruel smile on his face.
This man?
He wore no mask, yet there was something going on with him.
He was white blond, but it was natural. Not from a bottle. It was kind of like mine, but a little more strawberry, I guessed. He had it slicked back in a loose, stubby ponytail that dragged most of it off his face. It would be, I knew, a tousled mess that waved around his jaw when released, and it looked like silk. Honest to God silk.
He had a broad brow, with dark gold eyebrows that accentuated his bright green eyes. His nose was strong, and it led to a set of lips that would have made a saint want to sin. Around that wicked mouth, he was stubbled from his moustache to the rest of his jaw. He wore the leather cut all the MC brothers did, a white wifebeater, and a pair of jeans that, from that one quick glance, I knew he filled out well. Around his neck he wore, of all things, a rosary.
To say the sight surprised me was an understatement. It had wooden beads on it and a crucifix. All of it was rough, and any polish came from him worrying it with his hands.
But for all that he was beautiful, those green eyes of his?
They disturbed me.
I couldn’t say why, just that they did.
“What do you want?”
Those four words should have come from me, only they didn’t. Hadn’t. He asked them, and sweet Lord, his voice was just as beautiful as the man himself. It was raspy and deep, and it seemed to sink into my bones, settling there like mercury, weighing each of my senses down until I had no choice but to press my back harder into the wall behind me.
Turning into a puddle of goo in front of a man like this would do me no favors. I’d been around enough men like him to know what he was—a predator.
He might think I was prey, but I wasn’t. I was a predator too, but I knew how to play a part. I was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and I would only reveal that when I was ready.
I cleared my throat. “Why are you asking?”
“Because Cody behind the bar told me what you’re paying him to do.”
My head tilted to the side at that. I hadn’t seen Cody approach the booth. The other server had though. But he’d said Cody, and I distinctly recalled the button on the shirt of the bartender I’d dealt with. “When?”
His lips curved and fuck, what that did to those eyes? Holy shit. It was like looking into a cat’s eyes. They were kind of blank, yet somehow managed to transmit exactly what he was thinking which, I knew, was a paradox. But still. Maybe that was this man. Paradox with a capital P.
“Ever heard of the miracle of phones?” He quirked a brow at me. “Text messages are a miracle, aren’t they? Now, what do you want?”
My throat tightened as I realized, inadvertently, I’d gotten my wish.
I was speaking to a Satan’s Sinner brother, and all without Paul and Alix being able to report it to my father.
For a second, my vocal cords froze. Words I’d been planning on uttering for days in the aftermath of Luke’s death seemed to choke me. I had so much to say, so goddamn much, but I was speechless.
Until the guy stunned the shit out of me and murmured, “Take a breath.”
I stared at him, wide-eyed, then he stunned me further. He blew out a breath then slowly inhaled, and I stared at his mouth, rounded and perfect, and followed his lead.
At that moment, everything grounded to a halt. The world itself seemed to stop spinning on its axis. The music blaring behind me, the noise of a toilet flushing in the near distance, the raucous crowd who was spending the evening getting drunk…it all faded into the ether.
I saw nothing but him.
Felt nothing but him.
His peace in the face of the chaos of my life.
His calm in the presence of the turbulence that brought me here.
I could hear the breath rasp from between my lips, heard his as it gusted from his mouth, and slowly, my heart stopped racing, my lungs stopped burning, and time clicked back into being.
After around thirty seconds of the deepest intimacy I’d ever had with another person, I let my gaze drift to his eyes and whispered the stark, horrendous truth. “I know where Luke kept them.”
He tensed, his body turning rigid in front of me. Distance appeared between us, a distance of my own making, especially when those weren’t the words I’d wanted to say, but they were all I was capable of. And the space that suddenly pushed us a state apart made me want to sob. I longed to reach out, to grab his hand, to get that connection back. The link where I felt the beating of my heart as much as I’d sensed his own, but that was gone now. I’d cauterized it with my family’s evil.
His words confirmed what I’d hoped—the MC had been looking into Luke’s past to find a way to undermine my father’s desire to pin a murder charge on Giulia Fontaine. “His captives?”
I nodded. Once.
“Who was he to you?”
My mouth twisted, and my throat choked as reality punched me there. “My brother,” I spat, speaking those two words like the curses they were, and he reared back, either because he was surprised I was related to Luke or because my vitriol for that bastard had come through loud and clear.
“Where are they?” he demanded, his voice low, rough. Raspier than before. But now wasn’t the time to be caught up in how his voice made me tingle in places no one had ever made me tingle before.
Now, I had to think about those poor women. Those poor women who my bastard of a brother had—
Fuck.
I couldn’t even think about that.
I just had to get them out of the hell he’d placed them in.
“Give me your phone number,” I ordered, my voice sounding a little more like mine again.
I couldn’t believe I’d shown weakness to a man like this, but hell, even I was overwhelmed at the depravity my brother had waded through in his short lifespan.
Knowing someone was evil and seeing it?
Two separate matters entirely.
The guy narrowed his eyes at me but reeled off a number which I quickly input into my phone. I found the email where I’d stored all the information I’d found when I was sneaking through Luke’s stuff, copied it into a text, and sent it to him.
“That’s all I know.”
He frowned as he stared down at his phone which lit up with my text. “How long have you known?”
My throat grew tight. Not just at the horror at what my brother had done, but at the threat in the MC brother’s tone. I was grateful I didn’t have to lie. “A few days. I didn’t know where to turn.” I sucked in a breath. “My father would let them rot, and the cops are in his pocket along with the mayor.”
“The sheriff isn’t.” When my mouth worked as I tried to figure out what to say, since I hadn’t known that was the case, he merely shook his head. “Why come to us?”