Vince

 

Erica came around to my right side, leaning over as I clicked through to the memory card.

 

“Thank God it made it through without breaking,” she murmured. “Those things are strong. I have a few shots on there I’d like to save. You know, once this is all over.”

 

I started going through them, but I didn’t see anything helpful. Some kids playing jump rope, dogs at the park. “Where’s the stuff I’m looking for?”

 

She snorted. “They would be the last files, Vince.” She pulled the mouse from my hand and started navigating. I didn’t even care that she was so rough with me. I was intensely aware of her so close to me. She smelled like powder and shampoo and perfume, even though she’d spent the night here and hadn’t showered yet. She still had a clean, fresh smell. She was warm. I looked up out of the corner of my eye and saw the pulse beating in her throat. I was almost overcome by the urge to kiss her there.

 

I gave myself a mental shake and turned to the screen. Now she was going through the photos she’d taken the night before. They were all in black and white. “Wow,” I said. “You’re pretty good.”

 

“You think so?” she asked, glancing down at me before looking at the screen again. Her face went pink.

 

“Definitely. You see things. Not everybody sees things. Like, opportunities for photos. I would see a homeless guy, some kids eating pizza, whatever. But you see something totally different.” I admired her eye, having never had any talent myself. Even though I didn’t have it, I could appreciate it.

 

“Thanks,” she murmured. Then she clicked over to the next image. “Okay,” she said. “Here’s the alley.”

 

I looked at the photo, and right away I saw what she meant about them being perfectly lit. Why did they have to practically pose under that light? She would have walked past them.

 

“See? That’s the guy,” she said, pointing. “He’s the one who chased me.”

 

“Yeah, that’s him, all right,” I said, remembering his face in front of me. “Before I broke his goddamned nose, the fucker.”

 

She snorted. “Yeah, before that.” She clicked over to the next photo. “This is a better one. You can see both of them.”

 

She was right—I could see them both. And it felt like the bottom dropped out from under my world. My stomach had that weird rollercoaster feeling, though I was sitting still.

 

“Wait.” I put my hand over hers, holding the mouse still. “Just wait.”

 

“I think I got a better shot…”

 

“No!” I didn’t mean to shout, and she jumped back when I did. It was just… “I’m sorry,” I whispered, staring at the screen. “You have no idea what I’m looking at here.” I couldn’t believe it myself, and hoped I was making a huge mistake.

 

“Who is it?”

 

“Somebody who’s supposed to be dead.” I heard her gasp, but still couldn’t tear my eyes from the screen. It made no sense. How could it be?

 

“Who is it?” she asked.

 

“His name was—is—Lance.” I looked at her, finally out of shock enough to look away from the picture. “Probably was, again, by now. If he was stabbed, like you said.”

 

“I don’t understand,” she said, moving closer again. “What do you mean he was supposed to be dead?”

 

“He was one of my men who were supposedly killed last week,” I explained. She gasped again. “There was an explosion in a warehouse where my guys were picking up a shipment of drugs. Three bodies were found, charred beyond recognition. One of the bodies had this big, old class ring on its finger. Lance’s ring. We assumed it was Lance, and didn’t ask for dental records. He didn’t have any family.”

 

My world was spinning out of control. The implications of this were disastrous. If Lance hadn’t been killed that night at the warehouse, it meant he was working with the Wolves. They probably killed the other two and staged it to make it look like an explosion. The third body was some random person with Lance’s ring on his hand. And the building was blown up.

 

“He had to be laying low,” I said, pacing the room now. Erica watched, and I could tell from the way she chewed her cuticles that she was scared to death. “They must have found somewhere else for him to live, some safe house. God, he was with them the entire time. How long? How much did he tell them? What did they offer him?” I was close to one of the walls, and punched it. My fist nearly went clear through the drywall. Erica yelped.

 

“Motherfucker!” I screamed, punching the wall again. “How could he do it? What the fuck was he thinking?”

 

I looked at her like she could give me an answer. Of course, she couldn’t. She’d never met Lance. She didn’t know how tight we were supposed to be. I’d known him since the day I joined the club ten years earlier. We were both kids then. We grew up together. And he betrayed me.

 

“What the hell am I gonna do?” I went back to the computer, wishing I was wrong. But there was no question. It was him. Same long hair, same goatee, same slightly hooked nose. He was even wearing his kutte, the son of a bitch. How dare he. After betraying the club the way he had. He couldn’t let it go.

 

“He regretted it,” I said, everything coming together. “He was sorry he did it. That’s what they were fighting over.”

 

“You’re sure?” Erica whispered. She didn’t sound so sure.

 

“You tell me,” I said. “How did it sound when they were fighting?”

 

She shrugged a little, closing her eyes. “Let me think. Um, the one guy—the Wolf—said something about a deal. How there was no backing out.” Her eyes flew open. “That lines up with what you’re thinking!”

 

“Right,” I said. “He knew it was a mistake, the asshole. And he wanted out. But there was no way out by then. So the Wolf killed him, because he thought he might come back to me. God, what was he thinking in the first place?”

 

“Did you guys have a fight or something?”

 

“No!” I stood up, thinking back to the past year. “We were fine. No problems, no resentment. Lance was always the sort of person who went along, you know? Whatever was best for the club. I never had a problem with him, ever. That’s why this…this fucking hurts.”

 

I couldn’t hide it. I was in a shit ton of pain. “Something like this makes you question everything,” I said, holding my hands to my head. “I mean, literally everything. Who can I trust? Anyone? Are they all out there, plotting something?”

 

“No,” Erica said. “No, you can’t think like that. I’ve been watching them. They all love you.”

 

“I thought he did, too!” I laughed, looking down at her in the chair. “I did. I thought we were like brothers. I fucking mourned that lying sack of shit!” I picked up the camera where it sat on the desk, and threw it at the wall. It broke in two. I heard Erica groan.

 

“I fucking cried actual tears for him. I thought I let him walk into his death, him and the others. He fucking let them die. He didn’t care. His brothers. He knew they were going to die, and he didn’t try to stop it. He got them killed.” I punched the top of the desk, then kicked another chair across the room.

 

The lounge went silent. They must have thought I was killing Erica, or myself.

 

Then, another thought went through my head. “There’s another one out there,” I said.

 

“Stop saying that.”

 

“No, it’s true. There’s got to be at least one more.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“Lance was never the type of person to do anything alone. He always had to have a partner, someone to back him up. He wasn’t very self-confident. Even when he brought an idea to the table, he had to have at least one person backing him up in advance, or else he wouldn’t mention it.”

 

“So you think he brought somebody else in with him?”

 

I nodded. “Or they brought him in.”

 

“What if it was one of the other guys who supposedly died along with him?”

 

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. You could be right, but I don’t think so. Something’s telling me to be on my guard now.” I looked at her, and I felt nothing but despair. “I’m so fucking lost right now,” I admitted. “I don’t know what to think.”

 

She reached out to me, and I let her touch my face. Brett was the only woman I’d ever opened up to like this, and we were just close friends. Erica was right—I knew she had feelings for me, and she was a good kid, but I never saw her that way. She was a trusted confidante.

 

Erica was something else. She stroked my face, and it was like a balm.

 

“I want to help you all that I can,” she whispered.

 

I jerked backward. “No way,” I growled. Her face went deep red.

 

“What?” She laughed harshly. “I’m standing here, offering to help you, and you act like I said something awful.”

 

“You did,” I walked to the other side of the room. “Get out of here.” I put my hand on the knob, ready to open the door.

 

“Why are you acting this way? I just want to help you.”

 

“You can’t help me,” I hissed. “I’m part of this world, and you’re part of another world, and I’ll probably be dead soon anyway. One of my own men plotted against me, and another one probably is, too. Alexander York wants me gone, so he can take over the club. Get it? He won’t stop until I’m out of the picture. Why the fuck would you want to be part of this?”

 

“Because…I want to make it so you don’t have to die…” She looked like she might cry, and I didn’t even care anymore. I was tired of everything.

 

“Oh, right. Because you’ve been so good at keeping me out of trouble so far.” I smirked at her, shaking my head. “Give me a break. You couldn’t even keep from screaming when you saw the stabbing. What the hell good are you gonna do me now?”

 

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Protecting herself like my words hurt her. “If I didn’t, you wouldn’t know anything about this, would you? You’d never know someone was helping your enemies.”

 

I growled and rushed at her, not because I was mad at her, but because she was right. I wasn’t in control of anything. I’d been blind, full of myself. Sure my men loved me and wanted to stand by me. The entire time, someone was going behind my back. Someone probably still was.

 

She backed away, her eyes wide with terror. I was too fast for her, and I grabbed her by the upper arms. I shook her, wanting her to feel the pain I was in, if only for a second. I wanted her to see how dangerous this was. She didn’t need to be any part of this.

 

“You’re too good for this,” I whispered, shaking her. “You need to get out of here and pretend we don’t exist. Let us live and die here. You go far away. Do something else. Live a normal life.” Tears were streaming down her face, and she let out a little whimper every time I shook her.

 

“I don’t want to,” she finally whispered when the shaking stopped, and I held her still. My fingers dug into her arms. Why didn’t she see? Why was she making it so hard for me to let her go?

 

Instead of pushing her away, as I should have done, I pulled her to me and pressed my mouth against hers. It was the only thing to do, the only thing that made any sense.

 

She let out another whimper, but this one didn’t sound afraid. She was kissing me back before I knew it, with all the passion I had guessed she had inside her.

 

I turned around, with her in my arms, and pushed her against the desk. She sat on it, wrapping her legs around me. I forced my tongue between her lips, sweeping it around the inside of her mouth. I kissed her roughly, as hard as I could. I wanted to possess her, to hurt her, to make her scream my name and beg for more and beg me to stop. I crushed her body to me, running my hands over her back, then down to her ass.

 

She whimpered again, panting for breath, digging her short, sharp nails into my back. I hissed, taking her bottom lip between my teeth and biting it. She groaned with pleasure, her legs tightening around me. I pushed against her, my cock already hard and straining for her. I heard a groan from deep within her throat, and I knew she wanted this as much as I did. It was inevitable. I wanted her the minute I saw her on the ground.

 

“You guys? Breakfast!” I recognized Brett’s voice, and that killed the moment. But when I opened my eyes and saw the naked need all over Erica’s face, I thought it might be for the best.

 

“Saved by the breakfast,” I muttered, stepping away just a little. Erica reached for me, wanting to pull me back to her, but I stayed strong. “This isn’t right, right now,” I said. “I’m afraid I would hurt you. I have too much in my head.” Then I reached out and stroked my thumb over her bottom lip, which had a tiny drop of blood on it, where my teeth sank in.

 

She looked angry, disappointed. But I knew it was right.

 

And I knew, then and there, seeing the way she looked and feeling the way I did, that I would kill anyone who got in the way of her safety. I would burn down the Vicious Wolves clubhouse and everyone inside if it meant saving her. She was mine.