Gelatin shots were a bad idea. Horrible. After the third one, my vision began to kaleidoscope and I grabbed on to the stair railing to keep from falling.

“Come on, Gina!” Rory Martin, senior Homecoming Queen and Gamma Zeta Gamma chapter president waved to me from the bottom of the stairs. Her own eyes were hooded as she held onto the tray of amber-colored plastic shot glasses. I had her to blame for my current state of mental fog. Rory wore her blonde hair piled high in a top knot and the Greek letters emblazoned across her chest stuck far out. Earlier, I’d heard Gareth and the others comment on how it was her best asset. I’m pretty sure I dumped a full pitcher of draft beer on his head a second after that.

I held up a finger. “On my way, Prez.” I called out. This earned me a chorus of laughter for some reason. God, those things hit me hard and fast.

It was good though. I needed to let loose for once. I’d fielded a million questions over the past three days about the hulking biker dudes that seemed to follow me wherever I went.

Zig.

I gripped the railing harder as I made my way downstairs. Zig’s face swam in front of me. My belly heated at the thought of his strong hands working their way down my waist, his hot kisses blazing a trail along the column of my throat. I shook my head to clear the memory. Zig was gone. I was just some job to him. Some side piece to make it all bearable. He didn’t live in my world and I would never live in his.

Owen Janney, captain of the L.M.C. intramural rugby team, caught my elbow just before I stumbled over the last step. I fell against his broad chest.  He smelled good. Clean. There was no hint of leather and not a trace of ink anywhere on his body. He majored in finance and had a Wall Street job lined up right after graduation. He was exactly the kind of guy my parents expected me to end up with.

“Whoa,” Owen said. “Take it easy there. You’re looking a little green around the gills.”

I put a hand up. “I’m fine,” I said, though my voice pounded inside my head. Had I shouted? Had I spoken too soft?

Owen just stared down at me, his blue eyes shining. He slipped a hand around my waist and guided me toward the front door.

“Come on, Gina,” he said. “You look like you could use a little air.”

When we passed by Rory, she tried to hand me another gelatin shot. I reached for it, but Owen waved her off. Rory’s smile brightened as she reacted to some expression on Owen’s face as he led me out the front door.

It turned out, Owen had a point. A slight autumn breeze hit me in the face. I felt instantly clearer, though my stomach flipped in protest.

“Come on,” Owen said. “Let me get you to the bench over there. You think you can make it on your own steam?”

I gave him a thumbs up and smiled. Owen was cute. He was straight out of surfer boy central casting, born and raised in Santa Monica. Last summer, a few of my sorority sisters and I had stayed at his family’s beach house for a few days. While everyone paired off, I had kept mostly to myself. I’d left two days after my father’s stroke and hadn’t wanted to go. My mother insisted. She wanted everyone to think things were perfectly normal. Pretend. Don’t let on that things were dire. I’d played along.

Owen let go of me and I walked to the stone bench beneath a hundred-year-old elm tree right in front of the GZG house. Its foliage formed a wide canopy, shading almost the entire front lawn in the daytime. At night, the leaves rustled in the breeze and goosebumps covered my arms. I must have shivered. Owen sat next to me and put an arm around me.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, peering down into my face.

I put a hand up. “I’m fine. That last shot just hit me kind of hard. I’ll be okay in a second.”

“Hmm.” Owen didn’t look convinced. “You should drink some water. Did you eat anything before you came over?”

The truth was, I hadn’t. It was taco night at the dorm. I’d stayed just long enough to let Zig’s minion think I was there for the duration. Then I’d slipped out a service entrance and headed straight for the GZG house. I wanted one night without the constant reminder of whatever bullshit my family was trying to pull.

A twinge of guilt passed through me, though it might just have been the alcohol. Still, I figured Zig wouldn’t be too happy with his lackey’s inability to keep me under his thumb. On the other hand, fuck him. What little I knew about biker culture, the kid had to prove himself to earn his way into the Dark Saints. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for it and I’d helped hasten the inevitable.

Owen said something, but I couldn’t make it out as my head started to spin. It was a question, I think. Before I knew what was happening, the word “yes” popped out of my mouth. I knew instantly it was the wrong thing. Owen slipped an arm around my waist and turned me toward him. His breath came hot against my neck and he kissed me. Warning bells went off and I pressed my palms against his chest.

“Wait,” I shouted. Owen reared back; confusion darkened his eyes.

“Gina?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, sliding further down the bench. “Shit. Owen, I’m drunk. I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

His soft laughter made my ears throb. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. Come over here.”  He rubbed a hand down my back and leaned in close again.

Again, I put up a hand and pushed him away. “Owen, I mean it. I feel sick.”

He was drunk enough not to care. Brushing the hair away from my face, Owen leaned in again and made a move on me. This time, my stomach did the talking for me. My body went rigid and a deep gurgle rose within me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Owen’s eyes go wide with horror. Then I retched and puked all over his lap.

Owen staggered backward as if he’d been shot. The shock of it was just about as deep. The amber dye of the gelatin shots stained his white shirt as liquid splattered the ground and all over his feet.

“The fuck?” Owen held his arms out, his nose wrinkled in disgust, and he looked like he was about to be sick himself. I, on the other hand, felt markedly better. I tucked a hair behind my ear and straightened, wiping my hand across my mouth. My eyes watered and everything went blurry for a second, but at least my stomach had straightened itself out.

“I told you,” I said. “And sorry. I think I just want to go home now.”

Owen’s chest heaved with heavy breaths but he looked like he’d more or less recovered from the shock. I didn’t know whether to be disgusted or impressed at his sudden turnaround. Owen Janney was nothing if not an opportunist.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “You just need to lie down for a little while. Drink some water. Why don’t you let me take you upstairs? Help you get a shower. I’ll make sure nobody messes with you.”

It was in me to ask him who was going to make sure he didn’t mess with me. I got my answer in a long shadow and a whiff of leather and motor oil. A heavy boot hit the ground behind me and Owen’s eyes widened then went up and up.

“Get lost.” Zig’s gravelly voice filled with menace, sending a shiver straight through me. I was still having a little trouble focusing as he stepped forward and put himself between Owen Janney and me.

Owen put his hands up in a defensive gesture but held his ground. “Look, man. This is a private party. You maybe wanna head a little south. That’s where your type hangs out.”

“My type?” Zig said. His dark brow arched skyward and he crossed his arms in front of himself. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was enjoying this. His blue eyes flashed with threat and even Owen in his altered state read him right. Owen’s gaze darted from me to Zig. I knew he was deciding which one of us was worth the trouble. When his shoulders dropped, I figured he’d decided neither.

Shaking his head, Owen came to me. He put a hand on my shoulder. It earned him a grunt from Zig that sounded just like a threatening growl from a lion or some other apex predator. God. That’s exactly what he was. Just the sheer size of him with his hard-cut muscles was enough to get Owen to pause. He didn’t know what I did. Zig also had a loaded 9 millimeter in a hip holster beneath his leather vest. Owen would have shit his boxers if he’d realized. As it was, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and took a faltering step backward.

“Gina?”

Maybe it was the remnants of the alcohol doing my thinking for me. I’m not proud. On the other hand, Owen had been ready to take advantage of that very fact and help me out of my clothes and into a shower if Zig hadn’t swaggered in when he did. I’d like to say I could have handled things fine on my own. Maybe I could have. But I also can’t deny the knight-in-shining-leather bit looked good on Zig in the most wicked of ways.

Crossing my arms in front of myself, I blew a hair out of my eyes. “Go back to the party, Owen. I’m done for the night.”

The look he gave me surprised me. Rather than relief, Owen curled his lip in disgust. “This kind of thing isn’t going to help your reputation, Gina.”

My what?

I didn’t get a chance to come up with a snappy comeback. Instead, Zig took a step toward Owen and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. “This kind of thing isn’t going to help your health, Owen. Now get the fuck out of here and leave the girl alone. No means no.”

He shoved Owen hard toward the house. So far, our little scene had drawn no attention. Everyone was still inside. From the window near the doorway, I could see the backs of three of Owen’s closest friends. My blood turned to ice as something dawned on me. He’d probably told them to stand guard for him when he brought me outside. God, he’d wanted me all to himself. Fear flared through me. I’d convinced myself I could handle Owen all by myself. I may have been woefully naive or drunker than I thought. Either way, I was glad to see Owen take the porch steps two at a time and slam the front door behind him.

Zig’s steady hand at the small of my back sent desire rocketing through me. I let out a breath before I faced him. I still had enough alcohol coursing through my veins to keep my thoughts a little fuzzy. The rational part of me knew I should thank him. I might have. But Zig’s fierce expression stunned me into silence.

He took a firm grip on my shoulders and turned me away from the house. My head spun again. Yep. I was still drunk.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Zig’s eyes were wild. His own breath came hot. I might be tipsy, but he was keyed up with coiled fury.

“What?”

He shook me gently. Still, it was enough to turn my stomach again. I doubled over and started to retch. Zig slid an arm around my waist to keep me from falling. We staggered forward together. Zig steered me to the sidewalk near a rose bush. I promptly vomited all over it while Zig held my hair back.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. “Did that asshole give you anything to drink?”

Coughing, I straightened and turned to him. Zig’s face contorted with fear as he put a hand on my shoulder again. I had the presence of mind to realize how truly scared he was.

“What?”

“Gina, think. Did that fucker hand you anything to drink?”

I tried to clear the fog from my mind. “What? No. I had jello shots. Rory gave them to me. She had a tray.”

The explanation seemed perfectly reasonable when I said it, but Zig tore a hand through his hair. “I don’t know whether to throttle you myself or throw you over my shoulder and take you to the hospital.”

Lust flashed through me at the memory of the last time Zig had me over his shoulder. But this time, I knew if he tried it, I’d lose whatever was left in my stomach.

“No,” I managed weakly. “No hospital. Maybe just some water.”

Zig blew a breath through his teeth. Laughter rose from inside the house and the front door opened. Kenzie, one of my sorority sisters, stumbled out, arm in arm with a guy I didn’t recognize. They saw us and Kenzie’s mouth dropped when she took in Zig. I waved to her to let her know I was fine. Her cheeks colored as she smiled and headed down the sidewalk with her companion.

“Come on,” Zig said. “I’m getting you the hell out of here. You need to sober up.”

“I what?”

Zig had me by the arm. He led me away from the house. I took a few halting steps forward before Zig finally bent down, slid an arm beneath my knees and picked me up.

The first time Zig swept me off my feet, I thought it was hot and sexy. This time, I just felt nauseous. He took long, confident strides but the bobbing motion turned me inside out. I kicked my legs and flailed my arms. But Zig was like a stone statue come to life. There was absolutely no budging him. Mercifully, I had nothing left in my stomach to lose so I just hung on for dear life.

When we got to the end of the street, he finally set me down. Zig had parked his Harley under a street lamp between two campus patrol cars. The officers were nowhere to be found. Chances were they’d headed toward the GZG party to keep an eye on things. The dirty little secret was they wouldn’t do anything, even with the underage drinking. Practically every student at this school had well-connected parents. There was an unspoken rule that D.P.S. was here to keep kids from getting hurt, not to arrest anyone.

I tried to smooth back my hair. Zig put heavy hands on my shoulders and peered down into my face.

“Dammit, Gina. Look at me.” He gave me a little shake that made my head loll back. Zig’s eyes widened with alarm.

“Gina!”

“I’m trying,” I shouted. “Shit. Just stop moving.”

“I’m standing perfectly still.” Zig’s nostrils flared as he took hard breaths. It made him look a lot like a bull ready to charge. Corded veins popped out at his temples. I blinked hard to clear my head. The color had drained from Zig’s face. God, he was pissed as hell.

I got it together enough to jerk away from him. Clutching my hand to my stomach I took a few steps back and leaned against the hood of the nearest cop car. “Just give me a second,” I said.

Zig advanced on me again. He stood in front of me, planting his hands on the hood of the car on either side of my thighs, effectively caging me there. God, he smelled so good. I had to resist the urge to bury my nose against his shoulder to drink in the intoxicating scent of leather. It would be warm beneath my skin.

Zig thought I was drunk. I was. But just a little. Throwing up on the sidewalk had done wonders for my spinning head. Now, I just felt a slight buzz that emboldened me. I slid my hands up Zig’s chest and met his gaze. Wildfire seemed to ignite behind his cool eyes. It set my own blood humming and I wanted to kiss him again.

Oh yeah. My parents wanted someone like Owen Janney for me. If they saw me with Zig, they’d have a full-on Sicilian meltdown.

“I’m okay,” I said. Zig made a noise low in his throat. It was hard and threatening, like some junkyard dog. God. That’s exactly what he was. All menace and muscle. Zig didn’t debate. He acted.

“Really.” I tried again. “Promise.” I raised three fingers and gave him a Brownie salute. He scrunched his eyes and I realized he probably had zero clue what the gesture meant. Smiling, I slapped my hand to his chest.

“Gina,” he said. “I thought we had a deal.”

I tilted my head to the side. “What. You mean the kid you left behind to babysit me?” I sort of hated the way I sounded. Too whiny. I’d been going for defiant.

Zig made the junkyard dog noise again and warmth flooded me. This was dangerous. The air between us felt charged. I found I liked stirring Zig up. I liked how his eyes lit up and the way his muscles flexed. At the same time, I knew I was playing with fire.

“Toby was here to look out for you. And you could have used it. Jesus, Gina. If I hadn’t found you when I did, just what do you think that arrogant prick was going to try with you? He’s lucky I didn’t beat the shit out of him just for thinking it.”

“Why do you care?” I asked. My head finally stopped spinning. With each heartbeat, I felt more myself.

Zig straightened. Something flashed through his expression. It was as if he had a ready answer, but thought twice before saying it. My own heart dropped as I realized what it was. He cared because somebody in my family paid him to. I still had no clue what was going on with them, but I knew full well that the Dark Saints M.C. were under contract with my father.

“Never mind,” I said, pushing myself off the cop car. “I can find my own way home. I suppose you’re going to follow me. I don’t care. Just keep your distance.”

“Gina,” Zig’s tone softened.

I turned on him. “It’s fine. I get it. Georgio or my mother thinks I’m heading for trouble somehow. I’m sorry you got dragged into my life. I’m sure there are a thousand places you’d rather be. I know there are for me. I’ll call both of them in the morning and see if I can straighten this out. With any luck you can ride on out of here for good.”

Zig pressed his fist against his thigh. He let me walk away from him but followed a few paces behind.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sure it hasn’t been fun for you having guys like us cramping your style. It’s not your fault. You’re just a kid.”

Of all the things he could have said, that stung the worst. I turned on him. He was close enough that my hair brushed against his cheek as it fanned out.

“I’m not just a kid. I’m Gino DiSalvo’s daughter. I know what that means.”

Zig raised a brow and let out a hard laugh. “Oh really?”

Heat flared in my chest. I felt exposed, like he was making fun of me. His expression made it seem like he thought he knew more about my family than I did. The lust I’d felt a moment ago turned to anger. How dare he? I think he read the change in my face. Zig’s smirk dropped and he reached for me.

“Gina.”

“Don’t!” I yelled. God. I hated the sound of my own voice. But I hated the smug way he’d looked at me even more. “You think you know who I am? You think I’m some bratty college girl. I’m just a way for you to make a quick buck and points with your club. Fine. Do your job. But don’t presume you know shit about me. You do what my family pays you for. Nothing else.”

I wanted to swallow my words and make them disappear. In ten seconds, I’d acted exactly like the immature brat I’d just accused him of pegging me as. It was like I could hover outside of myself and watch the scene from a distance. There was Zig, brutal, powerful, dangerous. Then there was me, stomping my foot and pouting like the kid I’d just sworn I wasn’t. But I had said all of it so there was nothing left to do but own it.

Then the world stopped spinning. A firecracker went off behind me. I jumped, turning toward the sound. I made a half-turn, looking back at Zig. He was already in motion. He dove for me, circling his arms around my waist. He threw me to the ground and covered my body with his.

I screamed, pushing against him. “I can’t breathe,” I gasped.

Zig’s eyes went wild as he looked down at me. He had one arm across my chest, pinning me beneath him. With the other, he’d drawn his gun and aimed toward the street. A car engine roared. From my position on the ground, I could only see its tires squealing as it picked up speed.

Another firecracker went off to the left of us. Only this time I recognized it for what it was.

Gunfire.