Page 7 of Shielding Lexi (Temptation)

“I remembered my name,” I say. “Or at least I made up a name I like, if that helps at all,” I laugh awkwardly, and stand, heading to the kitchen for a drink of water.

“Well, that has to mean something, right Reap?” Hawk asks, setting his knife down for a second to look toward the table. “I mean, if we can—”

“Rain’s on the horizon,” Reaper says, ignoring everything Hawk is saying, effectively cutting him off. I was right. Stick your neck out with Reaper and you risk getting your head chopped off. “But worse than that. The Daggers are scanning the coastline. We had to hide so they wouldn’t see us.” Hawk drops the knife and looks at me. I finish my drink and place the glass in the sink, unsure what to say or do. If I seem too eager to help, it plays into Reaper’s suspicions, but if I don’t do anything, I just feel guilty for being a burden or causing trouble.

“No way!” Hawk grumbles. He’s clearly upset by the news, and so is Kane, who joins us in the kitchen from the living room where he’d been doing something on a laptop.

“What do you mean they’re scanning the coast?” he asks, setting the computer down.

I peek over his shoulder as I move back to the table, curious if they’ve got internet access, but he’s playing a game of solitaire.

“I mean, they were less than a thousand feet off shore, so they’re looking for something,” Reaper huffs, scratching the chair away from the table. He’s agitated again, and that red, hot, about to blow look on his face is back.

“So what’s the plan then?” Kane asks, clicking at his laptop mindlessly, like he hasn’t got a care in the world. I guess he got used to passing time on his own during his years in the army.

“You any good?” I ask, leaning over to look at the screen.

He nods, pride thinning his lips, “Haven’t lost a game yet.”

In the corner of the screen is a folder marked Pics, and I’m curious. Not for the hell of it, but for the same reason, I was trying to get Reaper talking. The more I know about these guys, the better.

“Hey, are those pictures of you guys back in Miami? Can I see? Maybe the scenery will jog something for me.”

Kane is more reserved than Hawk, but not as closed off as Reaper. “Yeah, wanna see my bike?” he asks, already clicking on the folder.

As soon as the files open, he clicks on the first photo and it expands. “I’m not sure where my bike is in this mess, but this is our place in Miami.” It’s a nice place. One story, mint green, looks to be downtown, on a side street. There are a lot of houses around it. I guess people that don’t murder people would live there, though even murderers have to live somewhere.

Is it weird that they live together? I mean, Kane and Reaper are probably in their forties and Hawk is maybe thirty. Why don’t they have families of their own?

Kane flicks to another photo, this one of them all together at some bike rally in leather and big black boots. I scan the background of the image, looking for anything that looks familiar, but there isn’t much to go off but some red flags and a field.

I let out a quiet sigh as Kane continues to flip through the pictures. A pit bull, a red motorcycle, a black motorcycle, a motorcycle on the beach, a motorcycle in the jungle, a motorcycle with a flag. They’re all personal to them and nothing is jogging my memory.

Kane clicks sideways to the next photo. “These guys are assholes. We won’t linger on this,” he says, pushing past the picture quickly.

“Wait!” I yell. “Go back, something caught my eye.”

He looks toward me, then clicks back until the photo reappears. It’s a picture of motorcycle gang members with their arms draped around each other. The man on the left of the image seems familiar. Dark hair, blue eyes, big silver rings, tattoos on his arms and hands, and a lopsided grin.

“Kane, what’s this guy’s name?” I ask, pointing at the man. “I think I’ve seen him somewhere before.”

Kane looks up at Reaper, a knowing look passing between them before they both look at me.

“What do you mean you’ve seen him before?” Reaper growls, standing from the table.

I’ve hit a nerve, and I want to take it back. It’s obviously not good that I know this guy—whoever he is.

“Calm down guys,” Hawk says, moving toward me from the kitchen. “Give her some space. Her mind could be playing tricks on her, it’s only a picture. Try blowing it up a little,” he says tapping Kane on the shoulder.

Kane hits a magnification button and expands the photo, centering the man clearly on the screen and my stomach sinks. I do know this man.

“Do you know him?” Hawk asks, resting his big, warm hand on my shoulder. He’s soft and sweet and all I want is to turn around and bury my face in his chest—disappear until this whole thing is over.

“Well,” Reaper pokes, his jaw clenched.

I can’t lie. They’ll know I’m bullshitting and this whole thing’ll be that much harder. Maybe the guy isn’t even that bad. Maybe it’s a friend of a friend of a friend who knows something they don’t like. I suck in a deep breath and somewhere deep in my gut, I know this isn’t going to go down well.

“I do know him. That’s Brick.”

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