Page 6 of Ruthless Sin

"And Hellfire won't kill me?" I counter, crushing my cigarette butt in the ashtray. "At least Emma isn't someone's daughter. At least your brother might eventually come around. Hellfire?"I shake my head. "He'll never think anyone's good enough for Angel, let alone someone twenty-two years older than her."

"Yeah, but Emma..." Crow trails off, staring into his empty glass. "She's different, man. The way she lights up a room just by walking in. How she can make anyone laugh, even on their worst day. The little crinkle she gets between her eyebrows when she's concentrating on something..." He catches himself, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Fuck, I sound like a teenager."

"You sound like a man in love," I correct him, pouring us both another shot. "Welcome to the club of sorry bastards who fell for the wrong women."

"At least Angel wants you back," he mutters. "Emma just sees me as her best friend's annoying brother."

"You sure about that?" I raise an eyebrow. "Because the other day at the clubhouse, when you were arm wrestling with Butcher? She couldn't take her eyes off you."

Hope flashes across his face before he squashes it. "Doesn't matter. Wrath made it clear years ago that Emma was off limits to any club member. Said he didn't want club drama messing with their friendship."

"Things change," I say, thinking about the way Angel looked at me earlier, the taste of her still lingering on my lips. "Sometimes the risk is worth it."

Crow laughs without humor. "We're a couple of sorry bastards, aren't we?"

"That we are, brother. That we are."

The garage falls silent except for the distant sound of motorcycles somewhere in the night. Both of us lost in thoughts about women we shouldn't want but can't stop wanting anyway.Women who could either save us or destroy us, and somehow, that makes them even more irresistible.

"Think Angel will be okay?" Crow finally asks, lighting another cigarette.

I check my phone – no messages yet. "She can handle herself. She's tough."

"Yeah," he nods. "Like Emma."

We share a knowing look, both understanding the hell we're probably walking into, both knowing we wouldn't have it any other way.

Chapter 3 - Angel

The Iron & Blood clubhouse parking lot is packed with bikes, more than usual for this time of night. News travels fast in our world, and I bet everyone's waiting to hear about what went down at Crossroads.

My heart is still racing, partly from the kiss with Ruthless, partly from knowing what I'm about to walk into.

I park Ruthless’s bike next to Dad's and take a deep breath. Music and laughter spill out of the building, along with the familiar smell of cigarettes and whiskey. Home. But tonight, it feels more like walking into a lion's den.

The moment I push through the doors, conversations die down. Dozens of eyes turn to me – members, women, hang-arounds. Butcher and Maverick are at their usual table, both going silent mid-conversation. Even Chloe, Dad's girlfriend, stops whatever she’s doing to stare at me with concern.

"Where is he?" I ask, though I already know.

"Reunion room," Butcher answers, his deep voice carrying across the suddenly quiet room. "Been waiting for you."

Of course he has. I straighten my shoulders and head toward the double doors at the back. The cut on my lip stings, and I can feel a bruise forming on my cheek where the Outlaw hit me. Battle wounds that won't help my case.

Before I can reach the doors, Chloe intercepts me. Her docile eyes scan my face, and she reaches up to touch my chin, turning my head to better see the damage.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," I say, but my voice catches slightly. Chloe's been good for Dad, brought out a softer side of him we'd all thought died years ago. But even she can't calm the storm I'm about to face.

"He's worried sick," she says quietly. "Got the call about Crossroads twenty minutes ago. Nearly tore out of here on his bike before I convinced him to wait."

"Thanks for that."

She squeezes my arm. "Want me to come with you?"

I shake my head. "This is something I need to handle alone."

The walk to the reunion room feels longer than usual. Every step echoes against the wooden floors, and I can feel the weight of everyone's stares. They're all wondering the same thing – how bad is this going to get?

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