Page 39 of The Biker's Red Christmas

That's when I see them.

At the far end of the cavernous space, a large man is dragging Sienna up a set of metal stairs. Her hands are bound behind her back, and even from this distance, I can see the fear in her eyes. The man – Fisher, I assume – notices me at the same moment. He yanks Sienna in front of him, using her as a human shield.

"Stop right there!" he bellows, his voice echoing off the walls. "One more step and I'll put a bullet in her pretty little head."

I freeze, my gun trained on them. Sienna's eyes lock with mine, wide and pleading. I can see a bruise forming on her cheek, and a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. The sight makes my blood boil.

Fisher starts talking, his words rushing out in a panicked stream. "Listen, we can work this out. I'll let her go, we can negotiate. There's no need for-"

But I'm not hearing it. His words fade into white noise as I focus entirely on Sienna. On the rise and fall of her chest, the trembling of her lower lip. I've never been more certain of anything in my life than I am of what I need to do right now.

"Red," I call out, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "Do you trust me?"

For a moment, the world seems to hold its breath. Then, almost imperceptibly, Sienna nods.

"Yes," she whispers, her voice carrying across the empty space.

That's all I need.

In one fluid motion, I adjust my aim and squeeze the trigger. The gunshot is deafening in the enclosed space, echoing off the walls like a crack of thunder. Fisher's head snaps back, a look of surprise frozen on his face as a neat hole appears between his eyes. His grip on Sienna loosens, and she stumbles forward, away from his falling body.

Before the echo of the shot has even faded, I'm racing across the warehouse floor. Sienna meets me halfway, collapsing into my arms as Fisher's body hits the ground with a dull thud behind her.

It's over. Just like that.

I hold her tight, my hand cradling the back of her head as she sobs into my chest. "I've got you," I murmur into her hair. "You're safe now."

"I knew you'd come. I knew it." She whispers over and over. Finally the rest of the guys rush in and Red tells them about the other girls downstairs. I'm happy my brothers are here because there's no way I'm letting Red go now.

After a minute Red looks up at me, "He said it wasn't over. There are others."

I know she's talking about Fisher. It makes sense that he wouldn't be the head of this organization. It's much bigger which means it'll be much more trouble. This time I'm not going to shy away from it. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it together."

E. SIENNA

It’s been a few days since I escaped with my life from Fisher. A few days to get used to my role as Lash’s ol’ lady.

At first it was daunting but the longer I stay around the club house the easier it is. In fact now I’m more than proud to be a part of Chrome Creed.

The sound of raucous laughter filters through the thin walls of the clubhouse, making me pause as I roll the silky stocking up my leg. I can't help but smile, even as my cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. The guys are probably placing bets on how long it'll take me to emerge from this room, decked out in an outfit I never thought I'd wear.

I smooth my hands over the sheer fabric, marveling at how it clings to my skin. The stockings are just one part of the ensemble I lost in last night's poker game. Who knew Lash's right-hand man had such a wicked poker face? Certainly not me, the girl who prided herself on reading people like open books.

As I stand to adjust the garter belt, I catch a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror. The reflection staring back at me is a far cry from the scared, desperate woman who fled from Fisher's clutches less than a week ago. This woman looks confident, even in her vulnerability. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and her lips curl into a smirk that says she might have lost the bet, but she's about to win the war.

I hear Lash's deep voice boom over the others, defending my honor in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. "Y'all better show some respect when my lady walks out, or you'll be answering to me." The chorus of playful boos and whistles that follows only makes me laugh.

As I reach for the corset - the final piece of this risqué puzzle - I realize that I've never felt more at home than I do right now, surrounded by the chaos and camaraderie of Chrome Creed. Fisher may have tried to break me, but here, among these rough-and-tumble bikers, I've found a strength I never knew I possessed.

With a deep breath, I lace up the corset, relishing the way it hugs my curves. A bet's a bet, after all, and I'm nothing if not a woman of my word. Besides, the look on their faces when I strut out of this room will be worth every moment of discomfort.

I give myself one last once-over in the mirror, tousling my hair for that perfect "just rolled out of bed" look. Then, with a wink at my reflection, I saunter towards the door, ready to show Chrome Creed - and myself - exactly what I'm made of.

The moment I step out of the room, the clubhouse erupts into a cacophony of whistles and cheers. But I only have eyes for Lash. His jaw drops, eyes widening as they travel from my red velvet stilettos up to the white fur trim of my dangerously short dress. I've gone all out with the sexy Mrs. Claus look, complete with a Santa hat perched jauntily on my head.

Lash is out of his chair in an instant, closing the distance between us with long, purposeful strides. His eyes are dark with desire, a growl rumbling in his chest as he reaches me. "Holy shit, darlin'," he breathes, his voice husky. "I thought you were gonna do some gag gift thing. This is... damn."

I can't help but grin, relishing the effect I'm having on him. "I promised to blow your mind, didn't I?" I purr, running a finger down his chest. "A Chrome Creed woman always keeps her word."

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