Page 12 of The Verdict

“Holy shit,” Motorcycle Man muttered against my neck, pressing his tongue over the ridges of his teeth marks, soothing the skin.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

He drew back and smirked.

“For saving me,” I clarified.Not fucking me senseless.

His easy smile made my stomach flutter.

“Hang on.”

My legs locked, pulling him just a little deeper, as he carried me over to the nearest table and gently lowered me. His eyes found mine, holding them in some erotic trance as he slowly pulled his cock free and stuffed himself back into his pants.

“Don’t move.” His rough voice made me shiver. “Going to find something to clean you up.”

He went back to the door, opened it slightly to check the hall, and then slipped through.

“Dios mío,Merritt,” I muttered to myself, my limbs all feeling like Jell-O.

That was… incredible. And incredibly dangerous. My eyes slid to the dead body shadowed in the corner of the room, reality colliding with my gut like a wrecking ball.

Mars.

He was here. Jupiter was here, too. A chill swept all the heat from my body. They’d want the time—and their pound of flesh. And if I stayed, Motorcycle Man would want us to go to the police—for me to give a statement. I couldn’t do that. The police would never find these guys—never learn what they were doing here or who they were working for. And most of all, the police would never be able to protect me.I’d learned that lesson hard the last time.

I slid off the table, pulled off my underwear, cleaning myself with the fabric as best I could, and then tossed them in the trash. I cracked the door and made sure no one was in the hall, and then I hesitated.

I hesitated because I wanted to see him one last time.Don’t be an idiot, Merritt. Don’t let your guard down for a fuck.He might’ve saved me tonight, but the only person I could trust to protect my future was myself.

I shoved through the doorway, practically sprinting to the side exit of the hotel and onto the sidewalk. There wasn’t time to call Natalie or get an Uber. I walked and hailed the first taxi I saw.

I’d have to explain myself to Les when I saw him next. And then I needed to figure out how the hell the Cosmos had found me… and what I was going to do.

Chapter Two

Rhys

“Hey, any word on Eastwood?” I knocked and poked my head into Ty’s office.

“Yeah.” He motioned me inside, and I let the door close behind me, the sound of laughing children instantly dulling. Ty sat sequestered behind his desk, the large computer screen partially obscuring him from view.“FBI raided their warehouse early this morning. Found the guns and a bunch of stolen antiquities.”

The Eastwoods were a prominent family in San Francisco known for their antiquities and collectibles business. For a while now, we’d suspected the business had become a front for smuggling weapons and illegal goods. With more and more countries wanting to preserve or repatriate their own archaeological artifacts, it seemed less and less explicable how the Eastwoods were doing well when most antiquity dealers were struggling.

I’d gone undercover for the last three weeks and realizedthat not only were they importing stolen valuables from South American countries, but they acquired those antiquities by providing stolen weapons in exchange.

Why was no one else looking into them?Because money bought powerful friends in high places.

Why were we looking into them?Because that was what our motorcycle club did—we righted wrongs the law left unpunished.

The Vigilantes MC was built on the promise of justice, on years of military training and expertise, and honed by our shared tragedy. We lived and worked in the shadows, hunting criminals the law would never find in the light.

It was our purpose. Our promise. Our redemption.

And we used whatever measures were necessary to make them pay.

“Perfect.” I breathed a sigh of relief. A single sigh before the drive for justice took over, and my thumb brushed the tattoo on my wrist.

Lady Justice was a gluttonous bitch.One criminal was never enough. One closed case never satisfied us. Not when there was more to be done. “What’s next?”

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