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“How does that look to you?” Emmett asks, folding his arms over his chest as if he’s bracing for the impact of my words.
“It’s the food chain, he’s hitting our weak spots, going through Emily to get to me to inevitably get to you. Offer him the next thing on the chain… me.”
“Fuck. No,” Ryker bites, tension instantly rippling from him.
“Listen to me first, Ryker, before you start making decisions. It’syourturn to see the bigger picture, like you always tell me. I can walk in there, all wired up so you can assess what we’re dealing with and then hit them hard.” He’s already shaking his head before I finish, Gray and Emmett following suit, and my chest tightens with the words I know I’m going to say next that will piss them off even more. “I’m not asking for permission. I’m asking Shift if he has the recording equipment to wire me up or not before I do it.”
“Rebel…” Ryker starts, but I wave my hand at him.
“I might be your Ruthless Rebel, but you’re not my prez. I don’t have to take your orders.” He knows this, the darkening of his eyes confirms it. We’ve had this conversation before, but until the shit really hits the fan, things never sink in.
“Scarlett, I’m not letting you. I can’t, the danger, shit, Sweet Cheeks, I love you,” Gray interjects, siding with Ryker.
Before I can utter those magical three words back as I continue to break his heart, Axel moves between us, standing in front of me protectively.
“We promised her that we wouldn’t try to control her actions, like you’re doing now. We promised her a home, a family, and we all fucking know how crazy this woman is.”
“She’s putting herself in danger,” Emmett grunts, but there’s no strength to his words. He’s already conceding.
“Maybe,” Axel grunts, glancing over his shoulder with a sad smile touching the corners of his mouth. “But she’s also doing what she does best. Surviving.”
* * *
I rollmy Harley to a stop by the gates leading into the Devil’s Brutes’ compound. It’s now or never, and for the first time, I’m walking toward danger with a tinge of nerves rocking my body. I take my helmet off and ruffle my hair, before I swing my leg over the machine and stretch out my limbs. I can already feel the eyes of the Brutes at the guard booth by the gates, but I take my time.
They need to think I’m girly, obsessed with looking cute for Kincaid. Not that I’m here to fucking slaughter him. I’m mic’d up with audio and visual for the guys, but it was too risky putting an earpiece in, so they can hear me, but I can’t catch a word back. I’m going in blind and deaf, but the disadvantage doesn’t matter.
Running my hands over my fitted combat pants, I lift them to straighten my leather jacket as I move to their little booth. “Hey,” I say with a smile, flicking my hair over my shoulder. They run their eyes over me from head to toe, and I giggle under their attention. It’s probably a good thing I can’t hear my guys right now. They wouldn’t be impressed.
“What are you doing around here, little lady?” the older guy asks, a thin beard reaching down to his chest as he peers at me.
“Kincaid.”
“Impossible. He never invites pussy over, no matter how good it is,” he replies, a leery grin on his face as he scratches his cheek.
“He does for mine,” I promise, nodding toward the phone hooked up on the wall. “Why don’t you give him a call and tell him Scarlett’s here. He’ll want me.”
The pair of them eye me like I’m crazy, but the younger guy with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth relents. “When he declines the offer, I’ll take you for a spin, yeah?” he says, wagging his eyebrows, but I don’t respond, knowing full well he just earned a bullet through his skull from one of my guys later.
His eyes remain locked on me as he hits the call button and brings the phone to his ear. It rings a few times before a muffled sound comes through the phone. I wish I was close enough to hear what was being said. “Prez, there’s a lady here claiming you invited her… I’m not lying, I swear,” he says with a chuckle, dragging on his cigarette. “I told her that too, offered her a good time, but she's insisting that if I tell you her name is Scarlett, you’ll—” His face pales, the voice coming through the phone booming now, but I still can’t piece it together. “Yes, boss. Sorry, boss,” he mumbles, before dropping the phone and rushing to press the button that controls the gates.
Taking a step back, I smile at them, but he’s whispering into the older guy’s ear, both avoiding my gaze purposely. I take that as my cue to head inside. I don’t rush my pace as I make my way up the driveway. I slow down close to where I’m sure I was the last time I was on this side of the gates. A crimson fleck on the ground makes me wonder if it’s from when I crushed that cunt’s skull with the SUV door, but I’ll never be sure.
The building comes into view. It looks a little bigger than the Ruthless Brothers’, and the layout is a little different too. It’s still a single-story, but it goes out wide to both the left and right of the main doors sitting front and center of the property where Kincaid stands.
There’s a wicked grin on his face as I approach, and when I’m a few yards out, he knocks on the door behind him and two men step out. Dressed in black jeans, black tees, and their black leather cuts, they look like something off the television, but unfortunately, this is my reality.
“Search her, boys,” Kincaid orders, and I come to a stop where I am.
I bite back the smile on my lips. I told the guys he would do this, and they didn’t believe me, but with Shift’s reassurance that I knew what I was doing, they listened to me. I know they trust me and my judgment, but I think putting me in danger goes against their nature. It’s not a quick fix, and I’m sure I would be the same if it was the other way around.
One of them pats their hands over my arms, along my shoulders, down my back and around my waist, while the other starts at my feet, tucking their hands into my combat boots before working their way up my legs, and coming to my hips. I’m expecting one of them to go for the apex of my thighs, but unsurprisingly, Kincaid stops them.
“That’s enough, don’t touch her anywhere else.” He crooks his finger for me to follow him. “Take a break, boys, this is personal.”
Fixing my smile, I saunter in after him. The doors lead into a hallway. I make sure to move my whole body as I’m looking around so the guys can catch a glimpse too. Church is to the left, a club area to the right, and another corridor at the end of the walkway leading off in both directions.
He steps into the large open space of the club, a bar at the very back with a door beside it, while the rest of the space is filled with tables and chairs. Two women are talking together at one of the setups near the liquor, and he whistles, gaining their attention. “Out, now,” he grunts, and they rush to their feet, barreling past us without a word, but the fear on their faces was clear.
