Page 17 of Untouchable

It takes a moment for me to register that she has the camera pointed in my direction, clicking away. I clear my throat, turning my head quickly. “We should get going.” Her eyes slice to mine as she looks up from the screen of her camera, but she says nothing. She simply puts everything carefully back in the bag and places it in her trunk, locking it before she takes the keys back to the board on the wall.

“Ready when you are.” She stands with her hip popped to the side, arms crossed over her chest, making me take my time before looking away. “Ugh, I can’t wait to take a shower. I smell like a transmission.” I walk over to her, looking down at the grease on my fingers and pocketing my shop towel.

“Poor Little Reaper, did you get a little dirty?” She gives me a warning look, but doesn’t move fast enough.

“Ace. Don’t,” she warns. “Don’t you dare.” She shuffles backwards as my long strides close the space between us effortlessly. I wipe grease on the tip of her nose, and she squeals, “Adrian Hernández, I’m gonna kill you!” She takes an unsteady step toward me, with her finger pointed accusingly at me, but she trips on some unlevel concrete and falls into my arms. She gasps just before I catch her, and her wild eyes land on mine, meanwhile, I can’t stop my heart from thrumming at the way she says my name.

“It’s just a little grease, Katarina. Nothing that shower you’re so desperate for won’t fix.” My phone rings loudly in my pocket, prompting me to help steady her back on her feet. When I pull it out, Mikey’s name is flashing across the screen.

“Yeah?” I watch Katarina lean down to look in the mirror of her car, wiping gently at her nose.

“Striker is here. We called Lenny, but we don’t know when he’ll show. Just thought you might be able to get here faster.”

“On my way.” I hang up my phone, grab my jacket from inside the garage, and hand my helmet to Katarina. “Change of plans, you’re coming with me.”

Her feet work overtime to catch up with me as I walk to my bike. “Um, no.”

I swing my leg over, reaching out to take the helmet before fastening it under her chin for her. “It wasn’t a question. Get on the bike.”

She doesn’t.

“Why do I?—”

I’m running out of patience, knowing that Striker is sitting in our clubhouse right now without me or Lenny there to keep an eye on him. Not to mention, I need to speak to Lenny before Striker does after last night’s events.

“Get on the bike, Katarina,” I growl through my teeth. I can see the fight shewantsto put up all over her face, but besides the loud color of red on her cheeks, she remains silent as she climbs on the back of my bike. When her arms wrap around my waist and her nails dig into my skin, I’m certain of one thing—Katarina Andersen would completely unravel me if I let her sink her claws deep enough. Which is exactly why I won’t be letting that happen. As soon as Striker is dealt with and sent on his way, I’m hitting the road until every memory of her is wiped from my mind.

CHAPTER 11

Ace

“ICE YOUR FACE”

When we get to the clubhouse, I pull around back to avoid Katarina being seen. The last thing I need is to waltz through the front door with her, and Striker starts running his mouth—especially since he doesn’t know she’s Lenny’s daughter.

“Why are we going through the back?” Katarina asks as I swing open the old door.

“Because until I can get you home, I need you to be invisible.”

A soft puff of air blows past her lips. “That’s kind of my specialty.”

“You’re serious?” The annoyance in my voice causes her to pause, turning around to face me as the door slams shut behind me. The light from outside disappears, leaving us in the dark hallway. “You truly have no idea what kind of mayhem you cause every time you show up here, do you? Not a single one of these motherfuckers can manage to have a clear thought when you walk in here. All tan legs and bad attitude.”

I brush past her to open my bedroom door, but instead of following me, she starts down the hallway towards the front. “Screw you, Ace.”

I inwardly groan when I realize this is going to be a lot harder than I thought.

Does she ever just do what she’s told?

I rush to block her path, the sharpness of her glare cutting through me when she tilts her head up to look at me.

“Going somewhere, Little Reaper?”

Her voice shrinks, no longer filled with hatred but with hurt. “I’m getting a ride home.”

“I’mgiving you a ride home. You’re not to go out front until I say you can, do you understand?” Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head in frustration.

“No! I don’t understand. I don’t understand why my being here is such a problem, or why I can’t sit in on a club meeting—” Her voice rises, so I push her into my room, shutting the door behind us.

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