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“I don’t think this is the guy I’ve been waiting for, Ro. Slow down.”
Ro is immediately on edge, and I know I shouldn’t have said anything. But this guy is basically on my front porch, and Mom is probably still sleeping, so he’s not here for her.
“Gia, what did you do?”
“Nothing that I know of,” I answer honestly. But the closer we get to the man, the clearer his patches become. Iron Kings. Those guys are fucking dangerous and crazy. Crazy dangerous. You don’t grow up in this part of town without learning early in life who to steer clear of, and these guys are at the top of the list of men to avoid.
“Gia, right?”
Stunned, I nod like a fool. “Who’s askin’?”
“They call me Hammer.” He grins and swings one leg over the seat so he can loom over me with his broad chest and thick body.
“Is that your real name?” Every biker I know has two names, the name on his birth certificate and tax papers and the one he goes by on the streets.
“It’s what you can call me. Or you can just call me boss because I have a job for you.”
A job? “I don’t even know you.”
He steps closer, getting in my face to make sure I know who’s in charge right now. Him. “You don’t need to know me,” he says.
I reach into my back pocket and grab the switchblade I keep there for rowdy men who can’t take no for an answer.
“Yeah, I do. If you’re asking me to do something for you, I sure as hell need to know you.”
The guy laughs, his shoulder-length dark hair falling over his face in a devilishly handsome way, at least before he rushes me and presses me up against the rickety railing and puts his own knife to my neck.
“See, bitch, that’s where you got it wrong. I’m not asking you for shit. What I’m doing is telling you how to stay alive.”
And just like that, it all becomes real as fuck. I nod quickly. “In that case, I’m listening.”
He laughs, and the sound is deep and rich and even as hell.
“See? That’s what I want to hear.” He takes a step back but not enough to give me any real space, just enough to throw me an intimidating stare while he tells me what he wants. “You know who I am?”
I nod. “The patches you wear tell me enough. What do you want?”
“Iwantyou to hack into the Angel Harbor cop shop and get all the Iron Kings being held there released. Now.”
I suck in a breath and shake my head. “I don’t know how to get into their mainframe. They’re using old-school tech that’s older than me.”
“Does it sound like I’m asking?” He laughs again with that menacing smirk on his face.
“I don’t know how to do what you’re asking me to do.”
“Figure it out, bitch. If they’re not out in sixty minutes, well, you can kiss your whore of a mother goodbye. For good. Got me?”
I nod because what the fuck else can I do?
“I’ll do what I can,” I tell him with more attitude than is probably wise given the giant knife he clutches in his fist. “Do you have their names?”
“They were arrested a couple nights ago, all at once. That should be enough to figure it out.”
This feels like a test, and I hate tests. “Sure. Like I said, I’ll do what I can.”
“You’ll get them out, or you’ll start tomorrow sunning your guts in the morning sun. I’ll be waiting.”
He walks off, jumps on his bike, and sits on it. Shit, is he going to sit there and wait the whole time?
