Page 37 of Steel

Her eyes narrow. “Does that kind of talk actually work on women?”

“You tell me.” I wink, and even if she groans, I don’t miss she’s biting back a smile. “Watch out for the exhaust pipe. It gets hot.”

Tempe swings her leg over my bike and slides behind me. There’s a gap of space, and I sense her nerves, so I grab her thighs and tug her flush to my back. The heat of her core makes me question what the fuck I’m thinking by doing this.

I don’t let women on my bike. It gives them the wrong impression. But Tempe breaks all my rules, and when her body melts to mine, I swear it’s like she’s always belonged right there.

“Gotta hold on tight unless you want to fall off.” I move her hands to my stomach, and I swear she ignites an electrical current through me. “Lean when I lean, and we’ll be good, all right?”

Her arms circle my waist, and her chest presses to my back. “I trust you.”

Three words have never sounded more dangerous.

By the time I’m walking into the Shack, I can still feel Tempe’s arms wrapped around my body. I can still feel the quick breaths with every sharp turn. The heat of her body pressing to my back was hotter than the middle ofsummer in Vegas. And it has my fists clenching when the door swings open, and I’m faced with the piece of shit who had her pinned to a wall by her throat a couple of hours ago.

The Shack sits on the opposite side of the compound from the neighborhood, and it’s bigger than its name gives it credit for. The building is a large, wide-open space with a concrete floor and a few strategically placed drains. It serves one purpose, and one purpose only.

Something it’s going to live up to tonight.

My men brought Banks back here from the bar, but they haven’t been able to learn anything more than the name stitched into his Iron Sinners cut.

Not for a lack of trying, if his bloody face and the knife handle sticking out of his thigh are any indication.

Havoc stands in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest, and if I had to guess, he’s the reason Banks is missing three of his toes. Havoc is a peaceful guy so long as you don’t threaten the club. But once you do, a military war machine unleashes.

Havoc is patient, and it’s not something his enemies appreciate about him when he cuts them apart piece by piece.

One limb at a time.

“Prez,” Havoc says, not taking his eyes off Banks.

Legacy and Soul stand behind Banks, and Ghost is to the side of the room spinning a knife, watching.

Being in church or in the Shack is the only time Ghost’s full attention isn’t on one of his devices. And even if people think his road name comes from how quiet he is,the truth is closer to the things he’s done between these walls.

“Is he talking yet?”

Soul grabs Banks’s hair and tips his face to the ceiling. “Not yet. But what do you say Banks, ready to behave?”

Banks grinds his teeth, not answering, and Soul shoves his head forward again. His shoulders sink with his exhaustion as blood drips down from a gash in his forehead.

Peeling off my leather jacket, I drape it over a chair at the side of the room, circling Banks and popping my knuckles.

He’s scrawny but tall. And he was strong enough to overpower Tempe, even if the claw marks on his wrists and forearms are proof she fought back. The red gashes fuel my rage as I take him in.

Stopping in front of him, his eyes flare when he looks up at me.

Fear.

Before I got here, I’m sure he figured he had some time. Maybe he assumed his perseverance would wear my men out, and they’d let him go. But one look into my eyes, and he must be able to read my mind because there’s no coming out the other side of this after he put his hands on her. He’ll be taking a dirt nap by the end of tonight for fucking with something that’s mine.

Mine?

That’s a dangerous thought.

“Knife?” Havoc offers one to me.

But I shake my head when I’d rather use my weapon of choice—my fists.

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