Page 5 of Steel

“I pulled up the footage from tonight. It looks like the Sinners we took down inside weren’t the only ones there.” He flips his phone around to show me a video of two guys circling through the alleyway on their bikes. “These two went around back before I lost them in a blind spot. The cameras around that side of the building aren’t working.”

“We need to fix that.”

“Already on it.” Ghost sets his phone on his lap. “I’ve got Boone replacing them tomorrow.”

“What do you think they were after?”

“Hard to say; the only access point from that part of the alley is a window that leads to the office. It doesn’t look like they got in, but they tried.”

“You think the fight was just a distraction?”

Ghost nods, his dark hair falling just above his pale-blue eyes. “It would make sense. Iron Sinners are reckless, but they’re not dumb enough to show up onTwisted Kings turf to pick a random fight in our strip club without a reason.”

“I don’t get it.” I shake my head. “Sapphire Rise is one of our more legitimate businesses. Don’t know what the fuck they’re expecting to find. Or better yet, why they’d care.”

The Sinners don’t put efforts into legal pussy, given they have no problem exploiting cheaper methods to please men, like trafficking women.

My guys have managed to shut down a few of their operations in the city, but I’m well aware our work isn’t done yet.

“Wonderful.” I groan. Just when I think one problem is solved, I’m faced with another. “Look into it and keep me updated.”

Ghost’s phone lights up, and when he looks down at it, his expression changes.

“What is it?”

“We’ve got another problem.” He holds his phone up again to show me a video on the screen, but this time it’s a view of inside the clubhouse.

A figure moves down the hallway that leads to our rooms, and when she glances over her shoulder to see if anyone is following her, I get a good look at who she is.

“Looks like someone’s lost.” Ghost smirks.

I shake my head. “Or looking for something she shouldn’t.”

Trouble.

I fucking knew it.

2

Tempe

Booze. Drugs. Women.

Every time I say I’m going to get my life together, I find myself in places like this and am reminded what an uphill battle that is.

The Twisted Kings clubhouse reminds me of the bar I work at. Replace drunk frat boys with rowdy bikers, and I might as well be standing inside Dirty Drakes. Except, the Twisted Kings have more of a reputation, so I’m not dumb enough to think they’re one and the same.

Motorcycle clubs aren’t fun and sexy like they are in books and movies, and the Twisted Kings are the worst of them. They’re known throughout Vegas for their ruthlessness. They’re unapologetic. Violent. Taking what they want while they battle it out with rival clubs and casino heirs.

Tourists don’t see the war zone through their drunken haze, but I live here. I’ve seen what these men do—what they’re capable of.

Up close.

After all, I’m the product of one of them.

Walking through the clubhouse, I’m reminded of everything I hate about bikers. Their arrogance and egos.

Tonight, there’s a party raging, and from what I’ve overheard, they’re celebrating a win against a rival club. The guys are getting wasted and taking shots off strippers while a group of girls that might be a bachelorette party huddles in the corner watching the scene unfold.

---