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  “We’ll split the town up into sections,” Fox said. “Put the men who aren’t watching someone in the sectors where we own businesses. The Cazadores aren’t stupid, they will try to smoke us out.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Jack said, waving his hand. “And get Nat back to her father so you can stop worrying about her, Fox.”

  Fox’s jaw clenched. “I can’t. She… fuck, she won’t listen to me.”

  I chuckled inwardly, thinking about the Russian beauty that Fox had gotten tangled up with a few months ago. She was stubborn as hell.

  Fulton stood, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’m gonna go call Lisa again,” he said to me, worry heavy in his eyes. “She’s gonna go to her mom’s even if I have to drive her there myself.”

  “Good luck,” I answered. Knowing his wife, I doubted she would want to leave either. He nodded and walked out of the room, one that doubled as a war room when things like this happened. In my four years with the brotherhood, I hadn’t seen such stress on Jack’s face or the sense of helplessness amongst the men that built with every quick glance from one member to another.

  For the first time, I realized we weren’t invincible.

  Fox walked past me, likely on his way to call Nat one more time, leaving me and Jack alone in the room together.

  “What do you need me to do?” I asked.

  He looked at me. “You look like hell, Kid.”

  I felt like hell. My body was sore from the punches, my head hurt from lack of sleep. “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah,” he chuckled, rocking back in his chair and resting his hands on his stomach. “I heard you took on Nieto after he hit Becky White.”

  The instant tension in my jaw that the memory inspired reminded me that at some point I must have unclenched it. I wanted to get my hands on Nieto right now. Specifically, around his neck. The moment he’d slapped Becky, something inside me had snapped, unleashing fury I’d never felt before. I’d gotten a few punches in before a Diablo blindsided me with a knife, and by the time I recovered, Marco was lost to the crowd.

  Next time, he wouldn’t get away. “I did and would do it again.”

  Jack eyed me, his gaze lit with curiosity. “Let me tell you about Becky White.” He steepled his fingers. “She’s a tough woman, matured far beyond her years. You know she’s barely old enough to drink?”

  Now that I wouldn’t have guessed. “What’s she doing in a strip joint?”

  Jack smiled, his expression tinged with nostalgia. “It was her father’s. Good man, he was. Damn heart attack took him out. Gone just like that.” He sighed. “Maybe I should start watching my back, too. First White, then McMurray. I’m the only damned one left.”

  I had heard stories about Derrek’s McMurray’s father dying of cancer. “Why didn’t you buy it from her? Why let her stay there?”

  Jack burst into laughter. “You’re kidding me right? She wouldn’t sell to me. She offered to give me more than my share of the cut to keep that damn shithole. You need to understand one thing, Kid. Becky White isn’t a normal woman.”

  Oh, I knew that. Watching her on that stage last night told me that and more. She danced like she had owned that pole, not caring how the men around her grumbled when she hadn’t stripped her clothes off. With that long, red hair and a body that could inspire a priest’s wet dream, she didn’t need to.

  I’d been mesmerized. I wasn’t gonna lie. When she’d motioned for me, every fiber in my being told me not to go to her, that I was asking for trouble.

  Becky was far different from any woman I’d ever met.

  But there was something in her eyes that had beckoned me, and I couldn’t even attempt to fight it. It wasn’t her body that had drawn me in, nor the seductive way she’d captured everyone’s attention in that strip club.

  It was her eyes, those same eyes that had haunted me long after I’d left the Gallery. “She’s still a woman who needs protection.”

  “You’re right,” Jack said. “She needs protection. Hell, they all need protection, but I can’t make men fall out of the fucking sky who are willing to put their lives on the line for a strip club.”

  “We’ll have to do it,” I said. “I’ll take Becky.”

  Jack’s eyes widened for a second before he burst into laughter once more. “Damn, Kid, you’re smitten with her, aren’t you?”

  “Hell no,” I grumbled, hating the fact that the smile grew on his face as he studied mine.

  “Yeah right,” Fox chuckled. “Dude, we’ve all had it bad for Becky White at least once, but trust me, you don’t want to get mixed up with her. She’s, well, she’s too much for you.”

  I sat up in the chair, feeling the deep, biting sting of the wound in my side. “I don’t want her. I want to protect her. Those are two different things.”

  “Sure, you do,” Fox said with a knowing grin. “I give it a week and you’ll fall for her.”

  I flipped him off, not really wanting to discuss this anymore. “Will you let me do it or not?”

  Jack sighed, wiping a hand over his face as if it just dawned on him what I was asking, and where that would put me. “Fine. You get Becky. Just watch her right now, alright? If I get word that the attack last night was directed at her, then there’s a good chance she’ll have to go to a safe house.”

  “Oh shit,” Fox muttered, shaking his head. “She’ll never agree to that.”

  Jack glared at him. “She goes if we say the word. She made her choice to stay with the Legion. Whether she likes it or not, her business is our business.”

  Fox gave him a shrug as I pushed myself out of the chair, feeling like a damn old man with my wounds.

  I didn’t like to show them that I hurt, but hell, it hurt. “I got it. I’ll talk to her.”

  “Good luck,” Fox muttered.

  I didn’t answer, walking out of the room and nearly running into Fulton in the process. The look on his face told me that he hadn’t been too successful with his phone call to Lisa.

  “Where are you going?”

  I straightened my shoulders. “I’m going to watch out for Becky White and the Gallery. Jack just assigned me.”

  “Why?” Fulton asked, his eyes narrowing. “What about me?”

  I shook my head. “Why don’t you go take care of Lisa? I can handle this one by myself.”

  Fulton stepped closer to me, as if crowding into my space would get him a different answer. “Are you sure, man? I’m supposed to watch out for you after last night.”

  “I’m good,” I said, cutting him off. “Go take care of your woman. Surely the Cazadores will leave the Gallery alone tonight.” I wanted to go there myself, maybe even talk to Becky. “I’ll check in.”

  “Alright,” Fulton finally said, blowing out a breath. “But don’t try to take on the Cazadores by yourself. It won’t go so well without backup.”

  “Got it,” I answered. There was only one person I was planning on taking on and she was far scarier than any Diablo.

  At least I could kill a Diablo.

  **

  Two hours later, I walked into the Gallery, the smell of stale cigarette smoke hitting me as soon as I walked through the door. I was surprised to find the joint so crowded. I would have thought the mayhem from last night would’ve kept people away. Already in party-mode, a group of women near the stage were attracting almost as much attention as Betty White’s dancers. One wore a bachelorette sash around her body, and her and her friends were more than ready to let loose. The smiles and laughter came easily as someone was doing a great job keeping the women stocked with booze.

  I spied Becky immediately, her red hair gleaming under the neon lights above the bar. She was slinging drinks left and right, laughing at something a man was saying.

  I rolled my shoulders before walking toward her, glad that I had traded my vest in for a dress shirt. Most people would recognize me, but at least if something happened tonight, I could blend in and get Becky to safety a hell of a lot easier.

  Maneuverin
g myself to the empty spot at the end of the bar, I rested my forearms against the scarred top and watched her work. She was really a jack of all trades and my appreciation for her went up a notch. Any other woman would have bowed out of this business at the first opportunity, but clearly, she enjoyed working here given the smile on her face.

  It wasn’t forced, nor was the shine in her eyes as she danced along to the music, giving the shaker in her hand a seductive roll. I adjusted my jeans discreetly, my eyes on her hips, and wondered why someone hadn’t snatched her up by now.

  Dammit to hell. I was in some deep shit.

  Chapter Four

  Becky

  I poured the drinks in the small glasses that stood in a neat line, filling them to the brim before topping each one off with a cherry from the jar. While I didn’t work the bar often, I did like to catch a shift every now and then to keep up my skills. Plus, it was something that kept me moving. l wasn’t one to sit still for very long.

  I arranged the glasses on a tray for the waitress so she could get them over to the bachelorette party. “Tell them it’s on the house and congratulations,” I told her as she took it from me.

  “Will do,” she answered with a grin before walking away. She leaned into the bride-to-be, her mouth close to her ear as she informed her of the Gallery’s gift.

  I was quickly rewarded with a few shouts toward the bar and eager hands snatched up the fruity concoction. I doubted it would be the last time I made the cocktails tonight, and I knew an innocent drink did wonders to keep the tips flowing. A small loss like a free round to the right table could get a good momentum going, its effects rippling out into the atmosphere of the room as people soaked in the good cheer. It was one of the many tricks my father had taught me along the way.

  It was going to be a good night. I could feel it.

  Turning back to the bar, I tried to ignore my new arrival. His gaze drank in my every move, making it difficult. I had seen him come in the moment he’d stepped over the threshold. I recognized him right away. Gary Holmes. He sat off to the side, waiting for me to acknowledge him, probably expecting me to lavish him with attention and a saucy smile. Every man was the same. They were always so keen to collect any debt they thought I owed them.

  Alright, well, maybe I did owe him something. Who knows what would have happened if Jared and that Kid hadn’t been there last night.

  I was still surprised that Marco had hit me. Sure, he’d roughed up some of the girls, but he had never raised his hand to me before. He had a reputation for craving pain. Not his own, but the pain of others, particularly women. And he tended to pick the new girls, the ones with the least experience and fewest friends. Maybe he was growing bored of easy targets.

  Shaking off the chill that spread down my spine, I picked up a napkin and turned toward my knight whose armor was conspicuously missing. He was desperately trying to blend in, but the dress shirt was far too much for a place like this.

  Besides the shirt, the way he carried himself was a dead giveaway. His posture erect, eyes focused, he continued to scan the room when he wasn’t staring at me.

  I couldn’t deny, however, how good he looked in that shirt. “So, you decided to come back,” I said, gazing at him from under my lashes.

  At the sound of my voice, some of the stiffened muscles under his shirt loosened and he smiled.

  Something fluttered low in my belly, the absurd feeling surprising me.

  “I didn’t want to miss out on another round of fun tonight.”

  I set the napkin in front of him, letting my gaze drop to the table. “What can I do for you?”

  Instead of ordering a drink, he extended his hand. “Gary. Gary Holmes.”

  I ignored his hand and slid back so I could lean against the counter behind me. “What do you want, Gary Holmes?”

  “A beer for starters,” he answered, taking his hand back and resting his large forearms on the bar. He looked unworried that I hadn’t accepted his greeting. Dark lines of a tattoo peeked out from under his rolled-up sleeve, some of it snaking over his forearm. So, the understudy had gained his ink.

  Interesting. “Coming up.”

  I turned away from the bar, glad to see that my counterpart, Liz, had decided to lend a hand. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” she said as she pulled out a few beers from a cooler. “You looked busy.”

  “Full house,” I remarked, taking one of those beers from her. After popping the top with the opener that stayed in my back pocket, I slid it toward Gary. “For last night.”

  “Thanks,” he said, taking a long draw from the bottle. “It’s packed.”

  “Always is,” I answered, wiping my hands on the towel hanging from the bar. “But something tells me you aren’t here for the entertainment.”

  He arched a brow. “Are you dancing?”

  I shook my head, letting out a small laugh. “No, I won’t be getting up there.” My muscles still ached from last night’s dance.

  His gaze shifted to my body. “Then no, I’m not interested in the entertainment.”

  I tried not to let his words have any effect on me. I had heard it all before, seen it all before. Because I owned a strip joint, guys tended to think that I was an easy lay. I had been propositioned for all sorts of things in all sorts of ways, including one gentleman who had literally thrown his credit card at me for one night alone in his hotel room.

  I had taken his card with a smile, started a tab, and discreetly found his address. Later, I snapped a pic of him with my phone in a compromising position with one of the girls. Normally, I value my clients’ privacy, but this guy was asking for it. When he wasn’t blatantly hounding me for sex, he was pestering the girls, pushing the boundaries to see what he could get away with. He was one of those guys who thought the rules didn’t apply to him. So, I mailed a pic or two to his wife. Perhaps not my finest moment, but I had enjoyed it anyway.

  Liz put a hand on my arm, signaling to me that I didn’t need to move as she leaned around me to grab a fifth of tequila. It pulled me from my thoughts and I gave Gary a smile. “Too bad. Some of my best girls are on tonight. Any one of them would be interested in a Legion member.”

  “Thanks, but I’m more in the mood for pleasant conversation right now,” he answered smoothly, taking another sip of his beer.

  I leaned over, irritated that he his responses came so easily. I’d expected someone with a little less confidence. “Why are you here, Gary?”

  “I’m here to keep the peace,” he answered, setting his beer down. “Jack sent me.”

  I searched for any sort of lie in his expression and found nothing. Damn him, that was why he annoyed me so much. He was far too genuine. “Well you can go. I can handle myself.”

  He a smirk tightened his lips. “Really? What about last night?”

  I grit my teeth at the memory, glaring at him. “He caught me off guard. It won’t happen again.” I had a gun tucked in my boot and a rifle behind the bar, well within reach. If Marco touched me again, it would be the last time he touched anything.

  Instead of laughing at me, he looked impressed. “I have no doubt it won’t, and I won’t stand in your way if something does go down tonight.”

  Surprised that he would even say that, I gave him a measured look. Most men would have puffed out their chests and demanded that I step back. “You need another beer?”

  He nodded, and I turned, feeling my heart flutter when I caught his gaze dropping to my ass just before I walked away.

  I really, really shouldn’t have liked the thought him lusting after me, but something inside secretly smiled anyway.

  Interesting.

  **

  Four hours later, I wiped my brow with the back of my hand before dropping it back into the sudsy water. The crowd was thinning out, the last dancer was on the pole for the night, and I couldn’t wait to kick off my heels and relax.

  My gaze drifted over to the corner stool of the bar, where Gary had sat for nearly the entire ti
me, asking for a beer now and then or smiling politely at the occasional woman who attempted to chat him up.

  But he brushed off the women’s advances, and never moved from that stool other than the trips to the restroom. I made sure that his seat was free when he got back. It wasn’t special treatment; I did this for any Legion member who was assigned duty here. But I did have to admit, I was a little more chatty than usual, even going as far as to show off my bartending skills knowing he was watching.