The first thing I did when we got back to the house was to call Kade and fill him in. I told him all about the meeting with Sloane and what we’d planned.

There was a long silence from him before he answered. “I think from now on, you should check with me BEFORE you go do crazy shit.”

“Next time, I’ll get you in on the ground floor. But for now, this is the play.”

“Alright. How was it seeing her again?”

“Spent more time keeping her hands off my crotch than actually talking business.”

“So… same old Sloane.”

I laughed. “Yeah. Same old Sloane.”

To tell the truth, it had been complicated. She was looking good, although I wish she hadn’t got her tits done. I liked her all natural. But she was still the same sex bomb as always, and I couldn’t help but be affected by it. Sloane radiated sex like a car engine gives off heat on a hundred degree day.

On the other hand, I remembered all the fights when I decided to take the club legit. All the screaming, all the plates thrown at me and smashing against the walls.

And all the fucking manipulation. The act in the motel room had only been half real. Yeah, she wanted to fuck – she always wanted to fuck – but she wanted me under her thumb, too. That was the thing about Sloane: she wanted to control men, and she’d do it any way she could, whether through sex, money, or pure fucking intimidation. Knowing that took a lot of the hotness out of the situation.

Plus, I’d had Fiona standing right there next to me.

That was a weird situation. It was over between me and Fiona; I’d accepted that. After she found out I’d paid off Peters to stall Ali’s murder investigation, there was no way she’d ever touch me again.

But I still wanted her. Sleeping with her last night had been a mistake… but god damn, what a way to go out. And now that I couldn’t have her, I wanted her all the more.

That was the thing: I could have Sloane whenever I wanted, and that made her less appealing. I couldn’t ever touch Fiona again, and now she was all I could think about.

Not to mention that what I’d had with Sloane wasn’t real. Or, at least, it was based on sex and drinking and drugs and blood money and power. That was fine when I was an outlaw biker – but once I decided I didn’t want those last three things, Sloane lost interest, and I saw how little we really had in common.

But what I’d had with Fiona… it felt real. Realer than anything I’d ever had with a woman before.

And now that it was gone, I felt like a part of me had been cut off, but I could still feel it. An itch I couldn’t scratch, a pain that wouldn’t go away.

Back there in the motel room in Joshua Tree, I’d never had a clearer picture of what I wanted versus what I had. On one hand was Sloane – my old life, the one I didn’t want anymore. On the other hand was the woman and the life I desperately wanted, but that was out of my reach forever.

I hung up with Kade and went out and saw Fiona. She was sullen and withdrawn.

That was another thing that stuck in my craw: she didn’t want me to touch her, and yet she was acting like a jealous bitch about Sloane. She was trying to hide it, but she wasn’t very good at it.

At first I thought she was crazy, but then it started to make sense. After that night at the Roadhouse, when I hated her for lying to me, there’s no way in hell I would have touched her – but if I saw her with another man, it probably would have driven me insane.

So maybe she wasn’t so crazy.

Or maybe we both were.

We were made for each other… with no fuckin’ way it was going to happen.

I told her I was going to bed, and then I went in, got undressed, and laid there in the dark, unable to go to sleep. I could still smell her on my sheets from the night before. The scent of her body was driving me crazy.

I thought about last night… the way I’d seen her out in the kitchen… how she’d looked… that wifebeater… her bare legs… the way she’d cried out when I first slid inside her…

I was hard as a rock when my phone rang, startling the shit out of me.

I checked the screen: Sloane.

Strangely enough, my hard-on just about died on the spot.

“No booty calls,” I said when I answered.

“This ain’t a booty call, this is a ‘get your ass the fuck outta Dodge’ call.”

I sat up in bed. “What?”

“I just left the Seven Veils five minutes ago.”

“Damn, you work fast.”

“No sense fuckin’ around.”

“Did he buy it?”

“Oh, he bought it, alright. In fact, I’m a little afraid I oversold it. I could see the wheels turnin’ in his head. Now I’m gonna be lookin’ over my shoulder till you take care of business.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is, I asked for a finder’s fee for fuckin’ you over.”

“…and?”

“If Lou gets rid of you first, no need to pay the finder’s fee. And I’m guessin’ he’s thinkin’ there’s no sense fuckin’ around, too.”

I felt my chest constrict.

“Jack, I’d get the hell out of there if I was you. Otherwise I don’t think I’ll be collectin’ on the deal we made.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me – HURRY. If I’m right – and I’m pretty goddamn sure I am – you don’t have much time,” she said, and hung up.