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  The illuminated hands on her watch said 4 a.m. It was time to go. Throwing on a black T-shirt and black jeans, she grabbed her helmet, a pair of wire clippers she’d borrowed from the storage area along with the rope, and her keys, and stole out of the bunkhouse without looking back.

  Cold night air whipped at her through her cotton T-shirt as she rode over to Gav’s shop but she was almost grateful for it, it made her focus. What is your problem? You’re just getting what’s yours. True. But the implications of what she was about to do with them and Gav’s suppliers’ list kept creeping down her spine and threatening to bite her on the ass.

  Parking a block away, just in case, she walked, fast, to the shop and stood in the shadows outside for a minute, listening. Nothing moved. The night was still, the world dead asleep. For a moment, Lucy let herself enjoy being up when no one else was. She could pretend that everything was alright with the world at this moment. There were no gang rivalries that could fuck everything up; no men out to control the women in their lives simply because their egos needed them to; children lost without a mother, wishing for just a glance, a hug, a flicker of emotion to wrap them up in their lonely beds. Stop it.

  Shaking her head, Lucy checked the security camera, pointed at the front door. The red light blinked steadily; that was going to have to go, pronto. Luckily, there were trees along the side of the shop, a scruffy patch that Gav had always said he was going to trim but never did. The boys used it as their own personal urinal when the toilet inside got too hot or too gross, as it did in the peak of summer under its tin roof and with a jammed window. Make like a panther, babe. Holding her breath, Lucy slid through the trees, barely making a sound. Gah, the smell was intense and she gagged. So much for making like a panther. Breathing through her mouth, Lucy kept going and was finally at the side of the building, behind the range of the camera. Wheeling a garbage can under the camera, Lucy climbed up, clipped the wire connecting the security camera, and waited. Nothing. Silence. Leaning over, she checked, and yep, the red flashing light was dead. Fist pumping the air on the inside, Lucy clambered down and, using the hem of her T-shirt to cover her fingers, punched in the code for the door. It opened smoothly with barely a sound.

  Lucy stood still again, not stepping into the shop until she’d made sure there was nothing moving inside. For some reason Gav had only installed the one camera on the outside of the building, so there were no more blinking red lights to deal with. Sliding the door closed behind her, Lucy stood still a moment longer, letting her eyes adjust to the darker gloom inside of the bike shop.

  Ten minutes and she’d be out of there and could slip back into bed with Jake before he woke up. The thought warmed her and she allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy of waking up to his face for real. She’d bailed both times they’d been together. What if she didn’t next time? The last time she’d slept with a man all night had been . . . well, she couldn’t remember when it had been.

  She wanted to trust him, then she realized what she was about to do and shook her head, all the more reason for not bringing him along on this crazy-ass mission. He had stronger ties to Hell’s than she did and he didn’t even know it yet.

  Eyes fully adjusted, Lucy shook herself and headed over to the mess that Gav called the office. On his desk were stacks of invoices, and Lucy leafed through them to see if there was anything she might need. The white squares of paper stood out enough to show what they were, but in the gloom she couldn’t tell what was written on them. Lucky you spent all that time letting your eyes adjust. Flicking on the flashlight on her phone, she shone its watery beam over the papers, and took snaps of anything she thought might be useful.

  On the wall, she found the main list she was after and took a bunch of shots of the names and details of suppliers, making sure she got the hand-written notes in the margins with details of what the various shops supplied, and what bourbon or beer they liked if there was a rush for a particular part.

  Then, booya, opening a drawer she found most of her tools.

  You did it. Now, get the fuck out. Putting the desk back as she’d found it, Lucy went over to the tools, messed them up a bit to make it look like a real break-in, then pocketed a few more tools so it wasn’t obvious that it was her. Turning to go, her phone battery beeped and the flashlight flickered. At the same time she heard a sound coming from outside. The flickering turned into a speedy fade, and all of a sudden she was plunged into darkness, even while she heard the sound of a car approaching. Heart pumping, mind racing, she started toward the exit, but without a light or the time to let her eyes adjust she walked into something, hard, and heard it crash to the ground. Putting her hand out, she felt jagged edges. A smashed headlight? Shit. Spooked that she’d made too much noise, Lucy headed for the exit, fast, and checking that there was no one outside, ran away from the shop as fast as her legs allowed.

  It wasn’t until she got back to her bike that she allowed herself to stop and as the adrenaline raced around her veins, she fell into slightly maniacal laughter. She’d done it. No harm done. No one any the wiser. Giving herself a little hug, Lucy crammed on her helmet and belted back to Wilde’s.

  * * *

  Jake had rolled over in his sleep and his back was to her when she slipped into the bunkhouse. Stripping down to nothing, she slid under the sheet and curled up next to him, letting his warmth seep into her body.

  As the dawn started to fill the room, she traced a finger down his spine. He rolled back over, and she had to squeeze right to the edge of the bunk to make room for his broad shoulders.

  Her future was sitting right there for her to take. She let it out of her imagination, a shiny, glimmering thing and watched it fill up the room with possibilities. One phone call to Sly and it would all happen. She’d let him tell them she’d fixed his bike, just to see what happened. And it had been okay. No drama so far. Sly reckoned the Reapers of Menace had enough money for her to start up properly, to really make a go of it, to show everyone—Gav, Hade, Rocco, all of them—that she had it in her to be the best bike mechanic around, ponytail or no ponytail.

  She looked at Jake’s sleeping face. What if he was part of that future too? Did she dare to even think it?

  Her heart gave a hiccup and she tried to calm herself. First things first, she needed to sit down with the Reapers of Menace boys and work through the details, look them in the eye and check that they weren’t a bunch of A-holes that liked the idea of a girl in the bike shop so they could look at her ass but not actually let her work. She smiled at the thought and gave herself one more second to dream. She had the feeling Jake would like that meeting. He’d like seeing her lay it out and watch the smirks on their faces fall away when they realized she was the real deal, wouldn’t he? He’d be proud. He’d sit off to one side, calm, passive, the true Iceman pose, and then tell her about seeing the moment they all clicked. They could toast to her afterward and then—

  “Morning, beautiful.”

  The fantasy evaporated and Lucy looked into Jake’s black eyes, blurry with sleep. “Morning, yourself.”

  “So much for our escapade in the dark of night,” he said, running a finger over her lip. “I can’t pretend that I’m not glad. Sounded like a recipe for disaster. Think we made much better use of our time, don’t you?”

  The words almost spilled out, but Lucy caught them in time. No point telling him she’d up and gone. Not yet. Watching him support her with the Reapers of Menace in her fantasy was one thing, it happening in real life was quite another. Once she had it all settled, then she’d let him in on it. Surprise him with how easily she’d gotten it all organized without any drama between the gangs. This was about bikes, not the boys that rode them.

  “Breakfast?” he asked, pulling her underneath him and reaching up for a kiss.

  “What’s on the menu?” she said, pushing aside everything for a moment.

  “Well, I’m starting with you, and then probably moving onto a second course.” Spreading kisses down her body,
he got to the top of her thighs then looked up and grinned. “Hope you’re not too hungry, ’cause I’m starving, and I’m going to be a while.”

  The first lick of his tongue made every muscle in her body tense and all thought of talking, or not talking, fled. The future could wait. At least for a little while.

  8.

  Jake had let himself luxuriate over Lucy’s body for a good hour before his grumbling stomach dragged him off her. “Don’t plan on going anywhere today. I’ll be right back,” he said with a grin that felt new on his face.

  “Whatever, Iceman. Things to do, people to see.”

  “You mean other than me?”

  She laughed and slapped his chest as he came in for another kiss but kissed him back nonetheless.

  “At least have breakfast with me?”

  The finger to her mouth did nothing to alleviate his apparently unquenchable hunger for her. “How about I go get us some food and you wait here?” she said.

  “Only if you promise to be quick.”

  “Sure. I’m the quickest toast maker in town, trust me.”

  “Humph.”

  “What? Toast not good enough for you?” She punched him lightly on the arm. “If you want quick that’s what you get. But if you want me to go rustle up a chicken and try and entice her to lay you some eggs, it’s gonna be a lot longer.”

  “There’s a carton of eggs in the kitchen. I’ll have mine over easy.”

  “That so?”

  “I did say I’d go get breakfast but you insisted on being the chef,” he said, trying to bait her.

  “And I said you needed to stay here. Suck it up, Iceman. You’re gonna have to get used to not being in charge.” Rolling out of bed, she threw on a black T-shirt and pants and was out the door before he could protest further. So much for baiting her.

  Alone in the room he fell back on the pillows. What the hell was happening to him? Putting his hands up in front of his face he inspected them. No shakes. Hardly surprising, it’s not like you’re actually doing anything at the moment. True. Lying in bed wasn’t going to induce terror in anyone unless they had a pathological fear of sheets. But being with Lucy . . . there was something in her attitude to life, her refusal to let the macho world she lived and worked in undermine her determination, her chutzpah, that rubbed off on him and made him feel about ten feet tall. It shouldn’t have, it should have worried him, made him want to wrap her up and bundle her out into a softened world, especially after Sarah. But it did the opposite. Holding up his hands again, he flexed his fingers, then his arms.

  He closed his eyes a minute. Let it out. The thing that he’d been holding back, the phone call from Javier, had been bubbling under the surface since it had happened and now, alone and satiated, he allowed himself to let it out into the air. To hold it up, look at all its cracks and faults and wonder whether he could do it. Get back into film, in a big way.

  With the scent of Lucy on the pillow, it didn’t seem that big a deal. In fact it seemed entirely possible. Exciting even. Seriously? A couple of great nights and you’re cured? Okay, so maybe not. But hiding from what happened hadn’t really been helping. Maybe talking it through with Lucy some more would help. He flexed his arms again, maybe getting back to the gym would help too. All of that would do more for his future than hiding out here, “helping” his sister.

  No, that wasn’t fair. He was helping Briony, and more than that, he was earning her trust, making sure that he made up for the past. For not being here, for his father’s uselessness. Briony had had enough useless men in her life in the past, it was time she got to see that not everyone with a penis was a cock.

  His stomach growled about ten times louder than it had earlier. What the heck was keeping Lucy? Surely she hadn’t really gone out looking for a chicken? He chuckled.

  Rolling out of the low bunk bed and narrowly avoiding clocking himself in the head on the solid metal frame, he threw on his clothes from the night before and went to look for her. He didn’t have to go far. In the storage bay near the kitchen he heard her voice. None too happy.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  “Nice try, Black. Who else was gonna get in there and smash up a bike? No one else is bitter enough to bother.”

  “Whatever. You trying to tell me that the Hell’s Boys are squeaky clean now? That there’s no one in the whole of LA who doesn’t hold a grudge? Yeah, right, gangs never make enemies.”

  “Doesn’t make sense for it to be the Menace. If they wanted to smash up my bike they would have let me know.”

  “How? By writing you a note? Gimme a break.”

  “You’re just pissed that Hade hasn’t let you set up your own shop for us. Everyone knows it. You’ve been whining about it for forever.”

  “And your problem with that is what? That I’m a girl. I’m a better mechanic than all the guys in Gav’s shop and yet none of you are willing to admit it. You used to tell me I was great with a spanner.”

  The biker snorted. “That was before you decided to stick one in my exhaust. I can see why Gav gave you the boot, what a ball-ache having you around.”

  “Seriously? That’s the best you got? I’d love to say I understand what you’re trying to say and I see where you’re coming from, but I can’t seem to get my head that far up my ass—”

  “What’s going on?” Jake walked around the corner to see Lucy being towered over by Martinez, two of his Hell’s Boys friends looking on.

  “Don’t worry about it,” the biker said, dismissing him and hardly looking at him.

  Jake drew himself up to his full height, let his shoulders broaden, and took a step toward the biker. “Oh I’m not worried.” He used the same dismissive tone as Martinez. “Just wondering whether your foot will fit in your big mouth. Looks like a pretty big foot, but then it looks like you’ve got a pretty big mouth.”

  The biker finally took his eyes off Lucy and eyeballed Jake. “You got a problem with my mouth?”

  “I do if you’re accusing one of my staff of something without a shred of evidence. I’ve already been down that road and I don’t fancy having Lucy accused of something she didn’t do a second time.”

  “Someone broke into the bike shop where my bike was sitting last night. Someone who knew exactly how to disable the security camera and who only touched one bike. And who left a set of boot prints that are smaller than anyone else’s I’ve seen around here.” He looked pointedly at Lucy’s feet. “Gav doesn’t even do Hell’s Boys’ bikes. He’s pissed too many people off with his questions. Mine was only in there because I couldn’t wait.”

  “You always have been impatient,” Lucy said coolly.

  The biker bristled even further. “I talked to Gav. There are tools missing too, but not all the tools, just a few select ones. Gangs wouldn’t do that. They’d trash everything.”

  “And you know that because that’s what you’d do, right? ’Cause you’re clearly a class act,” Lucy said and Jake smiled. He couldn’t help himself, she was so hot when she was angry. But the hackles on the back of his neck spiked. The bike shop Lucy had been planning on breaking into to get her tools back? But she’d been with him. Hadn’t she?

  “Look, guy, I don’t know what your deal is with Lucy here, but this is none of your business. Back off.” Martinez’s snarl took over the edge of his mouth and reminded Jake of a pit bull.

  “Don’t worry about it, Jake,” Lucy said. “This bunch of ass-wipes were just leaving.”

  “Ass-wipe? Did you just call me an ass-wipe?”

  “No, you’re right. That was out of line, it’s not fair to call you an ass-wipe when you don’t have the skills to wipe your own ass. In fact I’d guess your ass is jealous, the amount of shit that comes out of your mouth.”

  One of the boys in the back snickered but cut it off quick.

  “Enough.” Jake put up a hand. “We can stand here and trade insults all day but it’s pointless. What time was this break-in?”

  “Last night. Camer
a went down after four a.m.”

  “Well then you’re full of it. Lucy was here, working ’til after two a.m. and then she was with me.”

  “That so?”

  “Yes, that is so. And more to the point, she would never willfully hurt someone’s bike. She loves them too much. Something you idiots seem unable to comprehend. Probably because you don’t have half the knowledge or skill with a motorbike engine that she does. So if you’ve got nothing else, it’s time you left. And if you want to come back to Wilde’s, show a little respect or I’ll be taking it up with Rocco.” Jake pulled out his phone and took a photo of the three of them. “Just so I can show him who the fuckwits in his club are,” he said, putting it back in his pocket.

  That, finally, got them to back off. Martinez jumped down from the storage bay platform onto the ground below and skulked off with his mates after shooting a dirty look back at the two of them.

  Jake turned to Lucy, ready to take her into his arms and instead stared into bright blue eyes full of ice-cold anger.

  “What made you think I needed you sticking up for me?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Those guys already think they’re better than me, better than any woman that crosses their path. If they think that I’m leaning on you, getting you to fight my battles, they won’t give it a rest. I need to be solid around them. I have to win every round, every time, otherwise I’ll never get to work on their bikes.”

  The noise of the morning slowly filtered back in around them, and Jake shook his head. “I call bullshit on that.”

  Lucy raised an eyebrow at him. “’Cause you’ve walked in my shoes, have you? I told you I didn’t need rescuing. I still don’t.”

  “No. I get it. The world isn’t fair, it’s shit that they don’t just use you if you’re the best, but you can’t make them by sheer willpower.”

  “I can die trying.”

  He nodded slowly and the sound of a group of bikes revving filled the air as they took off from the parking lot.