Page 40 of Emmy's Ride

Her nostrils flared. “Like hell I will.”

I gritted my teeth. “I mean it, Emmy. If Luke was caught up in something illegal, then?—”

“Then what?” she snapped. “I pretend he doesn’t exist? I stop looking for him? He’s my brother, Austin.”

I knew damn well there was no talking her down when she got like this. “What did you find?”

Her lips pressed into a tight line, but she nodded toward the file. “Bank records. Luke’s account had a sudden influx of cash in the months before he disappeared. Large deposits, way beyond what he made from the gym.”

I opened the folder and didn’t like what I saw. It was an in-depth dig into Luke’s finances. “Where the hell did you get all this?”

“I know a guy. Okay, so I didn’t know him until my friend Maya introduced me. He did some work for her when her father disappeared. I asked him to find out what he could on Luke. Just look at it, Austin.”

I flipped through the statements, my gut twisting. “Where’d the money come from?”

“That’s the problem. It was routed through multiple accounts, offshore. Completely untraceable.”

My grip tightened on the paper. “Which means someone was paying him off.”

She crossed her arms. “Or setting him up.”

I looked at her, my frustration warring with my need to protect her. “I don’t want you anywhere near this, Emmy.”

“That’s not your call.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” I growled. “You’re under my protection, whether you like it or not.”

She shook her head, something breaking in her expression. “That’s just it, Austin. I don’t want to be protected. I want the truth.”

Damn her obstinate ass.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “And what happens if the truth isn’t what you want to hear?”

She didn’t back down. “Then I’ll deal with it.”

I cursed under my breath. There was no telling what else she’d been nosing around. And the worst part? I didn’t know if I could keep her safe from what she might find. That locked room was looking better and better.

Back at the compound, after I’d sat for the rest of the day in a stiff ass chair in Emmy’s waiting room, I escaped outside to the deck we’d built in the back, connected to the bar, beer in hand, my mind a storm of thoughts.

Emmy. Grit. The Ghost. The club. And back to Emmy.

Every part of my life was at a crossroads, and I wasn’t sure which way to go.

The club had been my whole world since the day I patched in. It was blood, loyalty, and survival. But now… now there was something else creeping in. A need for more.

The kids at Emmy’s office hadn’t left my thoughts since I met them. The way they carried themselves, the wariness in their eyes? I recognized it. Because, once upon a time, that had been me.

Tank dropped into the chair beside me. “You’re thinkin’ too loud.”

I huffed. “You ever think about what’s next?”

He raised a brow. “Next?”

“For the club,” I clarified. “For us.”

He took a slow sip of his beer. “Didn’t think we were the kinda guys who planned for the future.”

I was silent for a moment, then said, “Maybe we should be.”

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