This confirms that it is my fault Mr. Johnson is dead. I never should have involved him in my life. I should have accepted the fact I’d never escape my family’s chaos.
The bikes escort me all the way to their clubhouse just outside of Greeley. This is the very definition of a bad situation.
As soon as I stop, I’m being escorted out of my car and into a room full of men. Scary men. How the hell did this happen? One minute I’m enjoying my quiet little life, and the next I’m thrust into a literal nightmare.
I listen as the president of the Bloody Scorpions, the man who paid me a visit yesterday, goes over my options for repayment of the loan my brother took out with them. Why would he borrow money from one percenters? Better question, what did he think would happen if he didn’t pay them back?
The first option he mentions sounds terrifying. They want me to infiltrate their rival club and find out when and where their next shipment of guns is going through.
I begin to shake my head.
“No? Don’t like that one,” he teases. He looks around his club before settling his cold eyes on me. “The other option is simple. Stay here and work for us until the debt is paid.”
My gaze sweeps the room. Their clubhouse is more than a little disgusting, but it’s better than the alternative. “Okay, I’ll stay and clean for you guys. How much did my brother owe you? How long will it take?”
He taps his fingers over his mouth, clearly amused. “Oh, a few years maybe.”
My eyes widen.
“But the only thing you’ll be cleaning is our dicks with your tongue.” He leans back in his chair and grabs his crotch roughly. “You ready to get started?”
I stand quickly, swallowing hard to keep my breakfast from coming up. “I’ll take the first option.”
His eyebrows jump in surprise. He wasn’t expecting me to pick number one, and why would he? The Bastards aren’t any less scary. Walking into their club is a suicide mission … if I’m lucky.
My gaze roams over the patch on his cut. “Listen, Savage. Just tell me where to go. I’ll be back when I have the information you asked for.” I sigh loudly, shrugging like it’s no big deal. But it is a big deal, and we both know it.
All the men in the room laugh.
He eyes me up and down, ignoring them. “If you run, I’ll find you.”
“I know.”
He taps his lighter on the table beside him. “Ask for a man named Chase Turner. You’ll find him over in Cheyenne.” He jots down an address on a piece of paper and then hands it to me.
“What else do I need to know?” I ask, yanking it from his fingers.
“Nothing.” He settles back in his chair. “If you get the info on the guns, you can consider us even.”
“Oh, we’ll never be even,” I argue, walking out of the room.
“It didn’t have to be this way!” he yells after me.
He’s right. It didn’t.
Chapter Three
Serenity
Ishould have left Colorado the minute I knew my family had followed me here. But for the past few years they’ve left me alone … for the most part. The calls asking for money never really stopped, but I got better at ignoring them.
Mr. Johnson is dead because I let their mayhem tail me a little too closely.
The entire drive north, I ride a rollercoaster of emotions, stuffing each one down as soon as it rises. Did the Scorpions kill my brother? Surely not. Why would they murder someone who owed them money?
Because he didn’t pay up.
I couldn’t pay either, so why didn’t they do the same to me?