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“What the hell is hisproblem?” I asked, staring at the doorway where the grumpy ass biker just stomped out. Something about him seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place where I ever would have met any of these bikers in the past. Sure, Vegas had plenty of dark strangers in leather for one reason or another, and it wasn’t farfetched to think the Royal Bastards rode through the city plenty of times while I lived there. This was something else, though—a hint of recognition that kept tickling the back of my mind.
Whoever he was, I sensed that we had crossed paths, and it didn’t sit well with me that I didn’t remember.
Grim, the Royal Bastards MC president, didn’t betray any emotion as he ticked his head toward one of the others. “Go. Don’t piss him off, Jigsaw. Don’t need any extra shit.”
“You got it, pres,” he answered with a dark chuckle.
“Like he ain’t already pissed,” one of the others observed as a few of the guys snickered.
Jigsaw flashed a panty-melting grin in my direction as he sauntered toward the door, and I smirked, amused by the fact that this group of men was nothing like I imagined. There wasn’t an ugly guy in the bunch, and although they were definitely on edge since the moment I walked inside the clubhouse, none of them were hostile.
A calm but deadly aura clung to each of them, but I also got the impression that this group of bikers wasn’t a bunch of low-life pieces of shit that hurt women or kids. They weren’t the type of club that harmed the community, at least not from what I found when I searched about them on the internet. Not a lot of info available, but what was there was enough to glean that the Tonopah chapter of the RBMC was ruthless. They protected their club and treated its members like family.
That was what mattered for Yeva. A place where the Russian traffickers couldn’t find him and try to use the kid or sell him. As freaky as this bunch was with all the leather, chains, motorcycles, and tattoos, they were loyal. Honor and code meant something to them. I had to admit that I was envious of such camaraderie.
Grim leveled me with a stare that probably would have intimidated most people. He had this way of silently calculating everyone and everything around him, and I got the distinct impression that he was always in control. “Have a seat. We’ll get Nylah.” He ticked his head toward the guy with red and black makeup who resembled a demon without wearing more than face paint.
I shivered, sinking back down onto the couch. Yeva made a few whimpering noises, and I gently rocked the carrier back and forth, remembering how Zane never liked to be in one of these seats when he was little. The swing was the only way I slept that first few months. Funny how those memories surfaced at the oddest times.
A few minutes later, the biker returned, and he wasn’t alone.
“Hey, Grim. Diablo said,” a female voice cut off, staring at me with wide eyes before she blinked at the tiny infant who was now asleep. “Oh, wow. A baby.”
A few of the men made inappropriate comments, joking around with one another as she ignored their playful banter. The blonde approached and then reached out her hand, introducing herself. “I’m Nylah Peters. My sister is Naomi.”
“She’s not here?” I asked, a little disappointed. “I was hoping to leave Yeva with her personally.”
“Yeva? Is that his name?” She glanced down and smiled, a wistful look passing over her features. “He’s beautiful.”
“Uh-oh,” one of the bikers snorted. “Rael is in trouble.”
“Fuck off,” she replied, lifting her middle finger without taking her eyes off the baby. Her gaze returned to mine. “Can I hold him?”
“Of course.” I lifted Yeva out of the seat and then handed him over, noticing how gently she cradled his little body into her own.
Nylah picked up his blanket and swaddled him before cooing and whispering sweet words, mesmerized as his little lips twitched with a smile. “Why is he here?” Her head finally lifted, staring with an intensity that was hard to miss. “Is my sister in any trouble?”
“No, of course not. At least, none that I know of. I’m here to fulfill Katya’s wishes. She knew Naomi. They were together when,” I paused, biting my lower lip, wondering if I was disclosing something personal, “Resnikov had them both.”
A quick flash of pain shadowed Nylah’s features before she straightened her spine, giving a brief nod. “Yes. My sister mentioned it. This is what Katya wanted, right? The mother?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “She loved your sister and considered her family. The note that she left was quite detailed. In her last moments, she only wanted to ensure her son would be safe and loved. She was adamant that Naomi was the best choice.”
“What about her home? Or family?”
I maintained eye contact, squaring back my shoulders. “Her family in Russia is compromised. They’re targets. Yeva would never be safe in Russia.”
Nylah swallowed hard. “Poor thing.” She dropped her chin and kissed the baby’s head. “He’ll be safe with us. We’ll protect him. I promise.”
My shoulders released some of the tension I didn’t realize I’d been holding until now. “Thank you. That’s all I want.”
Nylah tilted her head to the side, a frown creasing her forehead. “You need to be careful.”
Taken aback, I stuttered, “Wh-what do you mean?”
“These Russian pricks hurt my sister without any motivation at all other than greed. There’s no chance in hell they’re gonna let this baby go.” She stood to her feet, turning to Grim. “This social worker is in danger.”
Grim’s gaze bounced back and forth between us as he scowled. “Gonna take it to Church tonight.”
