I heard the shot from a half a block away. “Oh hell, no!” Flooring the gas, I pulled up to the curb, parking at a wild angle.

That was dumb. I knew it. I should have just kept on driving and called the police. Instinct kicked in and all I could think about was Bobby and Ryan. I asked them to come in early and have a look around the Hutchins Street property so we could make a plan for how big a crew we needed. They were kids, both of them. Eighteen and seventeen. I wouldn’t turn tail and run.

I froze when I got to the foyer. Chase Cutter stood with his gun drawn. Bobby and Ryan were on the floor. Behind them, four men stood with their bloodied hands raised. Ryan’s lip was split and a line of blood ran from his chin to the floor.

“What the ever-loving fuck?” I said.

Chase didn’t move. He kept his gun trained on the four. Shit. I’d seen their type before. They ran with one of the local gangs. I could guess what happened. They’d either squatted here last night or got an early start trying to rip out the plumbing. Stupid. So stupid. I never should have sent Bobby and Ryan in by themselves.

“Are you okay?” I asked. Bobby looked ashen like he might pass out any second. He had a welt on his temple. One of the thugs behind him still held a hammer in his hand.

“You could have killed him!” I shrieked. “Are you kidding me? For what? Some pipes?”

“Ariel,” Chase said, his voice steady and cold. “Walk outside.”

I couldn’t. Rage took over. These boys were my boys. My crew. Saving the north side wasn’t just about the buildings. Both Ryan and Bobby grew up down here. I gave them steady work and a path to independence. We were family.

“Is this you?” I said. Fear and rage mixed together in my mind. I could see myself as Chase must have. My hair flew around me and my cheeks grew hot. I was borderline hysterical. “Did you send these little monsters here?”

Chase ignored me. He kept his gun trained on the four with their hands up. They could be brothers. All had jet-black hair and dark eyes. The ink on their arms meant something. They weren’t Saints though, that was clear. Chase stepped around Bobby and Ryan. I went to them, helping Ryan up. I pulled them with me and the three of us staggered out of the house.

“What the hell is happening?” I asked.

Ryan shook his head. “They jumped us,” he said. It’s all he got out before doubling over the flower boxes and vomiting. I put a hand on the small of his back. Bobby gave me a helpless look and shrugged.

When Ryan recovered, he straightened and turned to me. “Squatters,” he said. “They were already inside when we got here.”

A sick thud drew my attention. Bone on flesh. I started back toward the house but Bobby grabbed my arm. He gave me a slow shake of his head.

“Right,” I said, stepping back off the porch. We walked over to the truck and Ryan sat on the bumper.

One by one, the four thugs filed out. Two of them were limping, a third held a hand to his head, blood pouring between his fingers. Chase filled the doorway behind them standing tall and straight. He was immovable, like a mountain. I got the full effect of his hard stare and leather. He had a gun in a hip holster, but he barely needed it. He stared murder and menace at those four and for a second, I felt sorry for them.

Chase tilted his head and spit to the side. He took one step off the porch and the four scattered and went running.

“Hey!” I yelled. Fumbling for my phone, I ended up dropping it on the ground. “We should call the cops,” I said.

Chase turned toward me; his stare, hard as granite, sent a shiver through me. Sliding his hands into his back pockets, he walked toward us. He moved right past me and went to Ryan. Chase took him by the jaw gently, moving Ryan’s head from side to side.

“You might wanna get that looked at,” he said. “You’ve probably got a concussion.”

“I’m fine,” Ryan said, indignant.

“No, you’re not,” Chase answered, his voice gruff and all alpha male. “Lucky for you, you’ve got marble for a head. But he hit you with that hammer, didn’t he?”

My heart turned to ash. Now that the adrenaline started to wear off, I realized just how close this morning had come to being a downright tragedy.

“Ryan,” I said, my voice choking out of me. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it, Ariel.” Ryan’s pain-filled smile tore me up. “He’s right. I’ve got a marble head.”

“Still. Go to the doctor, will you? I’ll cover it.”

“Don’t worry,” Bobby chimed in. “I’ll take him. I’m just sorry it’s going to put us behind on the demo.”

“Are you serious?” I said, my heart aching. These were good kids, hard workers. They’d been looked down on their entire lives because of where they came from. North-side trash. But I knew better. Bobby was saving to go to school so he could become a carpenter. He had real talent. Ryan had made every mistake his father made before him. At seventeen, he already had a kid of his own on the way. But he was trying to do the right thing and save enough money so he and his girlfriend could have a house together.

“Ryan.” I went to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You work for me. I take care of my crew. Get checked out. I want written clearance from a doctor before I let you work another day. Got it?”

Ryan gave me a lopsided grin as he chewed his lip, but he nodded. “Got it, boss.”

“Good.” I locked eyes with Bobby to make sure he knew I was serious. Bobby’s slow nod over Ryan’s head reassured me he’d make sure Ryan got taken care of. Then the two of them climbed back into the truck and drove away.

It was then I nearly fell apart. I folded my hands around me and turned back toward the house. I just prayed Bobby and Ryan had showed up before those four losers had stripped all the copper out of the house.

“Hey!” Chase said, calling me back as I tried to head up the walkway. His voice was deep, commanding. It set my blood humming in spite of myself. Pausing, I turned to him. He came to me, crossing the distance between us in two quick strides.

“I told you,” he said. “This neighborhood is no place for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“You think those assholes would have given two shits if it had been you showing up here this morning? You just drove up here by yourself. Jesus. You realize what could have happened if you walked in on them this morning? You’re lucky those two kids got here before you.”

“Lucky?” I put a hand on top of my head. I felt like it might pop off. “Lucky? I’m pretty sure Ryan’s got something broken in his face. I know that kid. He was trying to act all tough in front of you because you’re ... you. He’s probably going to puke all the way to the E.R. That’s if he actually lets Bobby take him there.”

True panic started to set in. It was as if I existed outside myself. I knew what Chase had to be thinking. I was hysterical. Out of my mind. I started pacing up and down the walkway.

“I suppose the next thing you’re going to tell me is I told you so!” I shouted at him.

Chase jerked his head back. It was the only movement he made. He stood before me large as a colossus, his hands folded in front of him. I was on a roll now.

“Oh, I get it,” I said; anger bubbled to the surface. I wouldn’t have been surprised if steam came out of my ears. “Was this you? Is this how the Saints operate? You send those shitheads here to rough up my crew. Then you just happen to be close by to swoop in and run them off? Let me guess, the next thing you’re going to do is offer me a deal, right? What is it? A hundred bucks a week? Five hundred? You gonna protect me now, Chase?”

He still didn’t move a muscle. But Chase’s face went white. His eyes flashed with something dark.

“Forget it,” I said. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of your club. I won’t be bullied. This is my town. My house.”

A tremor went through him. His face was expressionless. Those cold, gray eyes cut straight through me. The man seemed chiseled from granite. He had a certain kind of heat coming off him. Chase Cutter was raw sex and danger wrapped in leather and ink. When he moved, it felt like the air itself got out of his way. He’d drawn a gun on those thugs in the house but he wouldn’t have needed it. It was more than the patch he wore, more than the dark menace in his eyes. Chase was lethal. I felt naked under his gaze.

And yet, there I was raving, flapping my hands, sweating. I knew with absolute certainty that if Chase hadn’t walked up when he did, Ryan and Bobby might be dead. It was my fault. My fault. They worked for me. I sent them here. My knees started to knock together and I prayed Chase didn’t notice.

“Ariel,” he said, his voice softening just a bit. This man could be hard and gentle all at once. Alarm bells clanged inside of me. I took a step back. My breath came hot and heavy. A beat passed. Then another.

Chase dropped his shoulders. “This wasn’t us,” he said. “You can think what you want about my club, we don’t operate like this. This was no shakedown.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for thinking the worst. I wanted to thank him for the very real fact that he’d probably just saved Ryan and Bobby’s lives, maybe mine too. I couldn’t say any of it. I kept my arms folded in front of me, shielding me from ... what ... I don’t know.

Chase took a deep breath and scanned the street. A few of the neighbors had come out to investigate the commotion, but they were used to it, I think. They went about their business. Doors closed, cars started.

“I should call the police,” I said.

Chase curled his lip. “You can. You should. They might send a few extra patrols through. Might not. But those four fuck nuts won’t be coming back. They’re freelance, I can tell you that.”

I wanted to ask him how he knew but decided against it. Maybe it was better I didn’t know the details. Something thawed within me as my heart settled back into my chest.

“Thank you,” I said. I put a hand out to shake Chase’s.

He moved, finally. At first, it was a barely perceptible tilt of his head. A slow smile spread across his face, revealing a deep dimple I hadn’t seen before. Chase Cutter was probably a heartbreaker with the banger trash who frequented his club. Oh, I’d seen them around town too. This man didn’t look like Texas. He had the white-blond hair of a surfer and those piercing gray eyes.

Chase took my hand. Heat struck my heart. He really was something when he trained those eyes straight at you. Other women might melt from it. I could see that. I wasn’t like other women. I held my ground and kept my grip firm.

“How do you know they won’t come back?” I asked.

Chase let go of my hand. I had the overwhelming urge to touch him again. There was a chill in the air. Chase’s smile lit his face. “I said this wasn’t a shakedown. It wasn’t. Those boys were two-bit thugs, but they know what this patch means. They won’t be coming back here again. But that doesn’t mean you’re safe.”

I cocked my head and tapped my foot. “Chase Cutter, huh? And how long has it been since you’ve lived on Hutchins Street?”

A shadow crossed his face and I almost regretted the question. There had been a moment like that yesterday too inside the house. What darkness was this man hiding? An ache went through me with the desire to know.

“Twenty years.” His answer was more frank than I expected. I was learning to expect the unexpected where this man was concerned.

“Twenty years,” I repeated. “A lot has changed in two decades, Chase. You have any idea what I can sell this house for once it’s fixed up?”

He raised a wry brow, his expression so stunned it was almost comical.

“Come on,” I said. “Take a little walk with me.”

That seemed to stun him more than anything and I found l enjoyed keeping him on his toes. Oh, it was dangerous to walk with Chase Cutter, but not for the reasons the neighbors might think. He followed me, scanning the street. His back stayed straight, his fingers played at his hip.

I took him one block over to Beacon Street. I’d flipped two houses there last year. One of the owners came out onto her front porch to grab her morning paper. She threw her hand up in a hearty wave as she saw me round the corner. Her expression froze as she saw Chase beside me.

“I imagine you get a lot of that,” I whispered.

Chase let out a snort. I stopped in front of the house. It had been a rundown ranch just a year ago. I’d changed the architecture in front, extended the porch, redid the landscaping. “This one sold for two hundred and fifty thousand last April,” I said. I pointed across the street, four houses down. “That one went for two ten.”

Chase froze beside me. Blinking wide, he reared back and looked at me. “You are shitting me.”

“I am most certainly not. I never joke about business.”

He let out a low whistle. Two kids on hoverboards headed our way. Chase put a protective hand on the small of my back and guided me out of their path. It was such a small gesture, but it sent heat snaking up my spine again. What was it about this guy that affected me so deeply?

He kept walking with me, down Beacon, around the corner to Delwood, over to Conner Drive. Some of the houses I’d flipped myself. A few of them, I’d worked on with my father. A lump formed in my throat when we passed those. In some ways, it was all I had left of him. Turning around the north side of Port Azrael had been his dream first. One by one, I rattled off the sale prices to Chase. He grew respectfully silent. When I’d shown him the last one, it was time to turn back to the Hutchins property.

“Well?” I said. “You’ve barely said a word in the last half hour.”

We stood on the sidewalk across the street where Chase had parked his Harley. It was a beast of a machine, shining chrome and black leather. I found myself imagining what it would feel like to ride on the back of it, my arms wrapped around Chase’s hard abs. I shook my head to clear the image.

“I’m impressed,” he said. “Blown away, actually. I had no idea what was happening down here.”

“Really? But you’re from here. You probably pass by it a thousand times.”

Chase nodded; he had that faraway look again. “Yeah. I pass by it. Until yesterday, I hadn’t been down this street in almost twenty years.”

“Why? What happened to you?” I don’t know why I asked him that. It just sort of tumbled out. The moment it did, I regretted it. Things had grown easy between us and I could almost feel a cold wall rise up.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That’s none of my business. Let me just say what I should have said earlier. Thank you. I mean that. And I’ll be more careful. I mean that too.”

He flicked his eyes over me. “It’s a good thing, what you’re doing. This place needs it.”

Chase slid his hand into an inside pocket of his leather vest. He pulled out a business card and handed it to me. “Bullock’s Body Shop,” it read. There was a single phone number beneath the name.

He didn’t ask me to call him. He didn’t tell me what any of it meant. Chase just shot me a devilish wink then turned and climbed on his bike. When he revved the engine, it vibrated through me, taking my breath away ... just like Chase did.