Later that morning, Alejandro was tinkering with his bike at his father's garage when he heard a car pull up outside. The insistent pounding on the door conspired to shatter his skull, and he headed for the front, hell-bent on thrashing whoever it was beating down the door.

 

On the other side of the glass stood Bobby Dawson. Alejandro stared at the blond man. He'd have recognized Bobby's face anywhere: clean cut, blue eyes, bright teeth. He took in the linen suit and expensive loafers, the timepiece on his arm that probably cost as much as his bike. Rich boy, he thought, you're either stupid or insane. I could shoot you out back, bury you in the desert, and no one would be any the wiser. He entertained that thought for more than a moment as he stared the other man down, and then unlocked the door without a word.

 

Clearly Bobby knew he was at a disadvantage, but he walked defiantly into the garage and stood watching Alejandro carefully wipe the grease from each finger in turn.

 

"What can I do for you?" Alejandro finally asked.

 

"Robert Dawson." Bobby offered his hand, and for a second Alejandro thought he'd made a mistake and the man was just campaigning. But the fire in Bobby's eyes was unmistakable.

 

Alejandro took Bobby's hand, squeezing the fingers between his own, bearing down just a bit. He was surprised when Bobby didn't wince.

 

"I'm Alaine's fiancé."

 

She hates being called Alaine. Alejandro smiled and went for the jugular right away. "You know she doesn't actually wear that ring, right?" he asked conspiratorially.

 

Bobby's eyes narrowed a bit, but he flashed a PR grin Alejandro's way. "Well, we did agree to take some time apart to think about how we're moving forward," he said with a shrug.

 

Alejandro nodded and said nothing, still smirking. Let this jackass do all the talking he wants. At the end of the day, Ali's still mine.

 

"I know the two of you are quite close," Bobby mused, turning his back to Alejandro as he strolled around the garage, trailing his fingers now and then over a surface as if marking it, his eyes missing nothing.

 

"You could say that." Alejandro's smile broadened as he recalled just how close they'd been on many occasions, and he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the workbench. "So?"

 

"I'm asking, as a gentleman, that you stop seeing her."

 

Alejandro threw back his head and laughed, a great booming sound that echoed in the enclosed space. "Oh, you're good," he said, wagging his finger at Bobby. "I'll hand it to you. You show up here at my father's business acting like you own this place and thinking there's no way in hell I'd jeopardize my old man's livelihood. You tell me that you and Ali are still engaged, yet I've been warming her sheets all month.

 

He grinned even wider when Bobby blanched. "And now you say some bullshit about a gentleman's agreement when both you and I know that you've got a backup plan waiting for me when I tell you to fuck off.

 

"So tell you what, Robert Dawson," he growled. "Since this isn't a fucking meet and greet, what do you say we drop the act and you just cut to the chase. Man to man. Use small words, I'm not as bright as you."

 

"Fine." Bobby straightened, his cheeks colored and his jaw clenched. "How's this, then? You stay the fuck away from her, from today forward. You so much as look at her, it's going to get a lot hotter around here, not just for you but for your whole family and anyone else associated with your club. Your kind are not welcome here in Arroyo Flats."

 

Alejandro smirked. "Turning up the heat on me, college boy?"

 

He stalked closer to Bobby, who was nearly as tall as he was but nowhere near as broad. He imagined the other man kissing Ali, touching her with his privileged hands, whispering in her ear. A calm rage filled his veins as he pushed into Bobby's personal space, nose to nose, just inches away.

 

"How about this, then," Alejandro said quietly. "You go ahead and bring whatever it is you got. Do what you gotta do, because in the end, Ali's going to be mine."

 

"Never in a million years will she choose a lowlife like you!"

 

Alejandro shrugged and grinned. "Then why are you here?" he asked, throwing his arms wide.

 

Bobby spun on his heel and stormed out of the garage without another word. Alejandro wished he could feel some relief, some triumph at their exchange, but all he could think about was Bobby's threat.

 

The truth was, even though Alejandro could easily take him in a fight, that wasn't the game they were playing. Bobby Dawson had the means to make all their lives pretty miserable if he wanted to, and judging from how pissed off he was, that's exactly what he intended to do. Alejandro couldn't just beat Bobby's ass and be done with it, as much as the very thought of it made his entire body sing.

 

Furthermore, he didn't know just how much of his life Ali could handle, no matter what she said. Even if she could somehow excuse away some of the illegal things they did because they balanced it out by taking care of their own, could she justify all of it? She was okay with them selling stolen ammo and helping illegals get into the country, but that was only a fraction of what they did. What about the drugs? The underage prostitutes they sometimes got for Hennessy? The fact that every once in a while they had to make someone disappear?

 

Maybe she'd go back to Bobby when she found out about those things. Maybe the rich prick would even be the one to tell her. He had to find a way to make sure he didn't.