Page 2 of Tracked By Hound

It’s all in the eyes—the danger—clear, harsh, and easy to read.

“So here’s how this is going to play out,” the stranger says, his eyes cold and hard again. “Your brother has two options. Return all the money he stole from us or take a bullet to his brain.”

“All of it?” Ransom pales further, his face turning chalk white. “How the fuck do you expect me to return that much money? I don’t have it anymore, and—”

“Then we are done here,” the man says with horrifying nonchalance.

I watch with terror as he raises his gun, and I see it in those steel eyes sharp as a wolf’s, he is going to kill my brother. Ransom took me in when our parents died. He has sacrificed so much to take care of me and our grandmother, paying for the apartment we now share and all the bills from the nursing home. He taught me how to throw a punch, took me to buy my high school prom dress, and threatened all the guys in the neighborhood to steer clear of his sister if they didn’t want to deal with him.

And now, he’s going to die in front of me.

My legs are moving before my brain can catch up. One second, I’m frozen, my entire being paralyzed with fear, and the next a primal instinct pushed by desperation takes over. I launch myself forward, a blur of motion as I move to shield my brother from the gun. I feel the impact of my body against Ransom’s and the weight of his arm locking around me as I throw myself in front of him.

“No!” My breath catches in my throat, a choked sob escaping my lips. I bite hard on my trembling lip as I turn to the stranger. “You can’t kill him. I won’t let you!”

I catch a flicker of surprise in his eyes as he drops the gun but doesn’t say a word. Ransom tries his best to push me out of the way and protect me as he always has, but I hold on tight to his shoulders, unwilling to lose yet another loved one. “Chelsea June!” he shouts.

“No, I won’t let him kill you.” I sniff, my heart wrenching painfully in my chest. The memory of losing our parents rushes in. The panicked drive to the hospital, the fear, the hope, and then…the pain. I turn my wet, pleading eyes to the giant standing over us. “Isn’t there a third option? Please?” I plead, blinking tearfully at the stranger. “Please.”

“Your brother has to pay back the money he stole. With interest. There is no other option.”

“He won’t be able to give you anything if he’s dead,” I tell him.

Ransom pushes me off, managing to move me to the side, but not without a struggle. “I’ll pay,” he says finally. “I can’t pay it all at once. I used some of the money to cover my grandmother’s nursing home expenses for the next year. There isn’t much left, but I’ll figure out a way to pay it back. I just need some time.”

“How long?”

“Two months,” Ransom says, before quickly correcting himself when the stranger raises a single thick brow. “Fine, six weeks.” The stranger just continues to stare at him, so he says, “Seriously? Okay, fine. One month. I can’t get it sooner than that.”

The man walks to the couch and lowers himself onto it, placing the gun on the cushion next to him before turning to us. “Tell me, why should I trust a thief?” he asks, smirking when my eyes flare at his words, the urge to defend my brother strong, but I decide to keep my mouth shut for the moment. “Do you really expect me to take your word for it? I mean, what’s stopping you from taking the rest of the money and disappearing?”

“Then what do you want? My ID? Passport?”

“Those could be forged. With your computer skills, I imagine it’s child’s play to get fake identities.”

Ransom makes an exasperated sound as he sits up. “Then what do you want?” he demands, missing the way the giant’s eyes move from him to me and stay there. My lips part in a gasp at what he’s implying, but it takes my brother a minute of silencefor his brain to catch up. He shoots up to his feet, eyes blazing with fury. “Absolutely not. My sister has nothing to do with this. You’re not taking her!”

“I don’t believe you’re in a position to negotiate with me.”

Ransom moves in front of me, and this time, it’s he who shields me with his body. “Please…anything else. She’s only twenty, practically a kid still.”

The stranger leans back against the couch and stares at him coolly. “You have nothing else of value. Nothing that would motivate you to stay close and work hard to repay the money you stole from the Steel Rebels.”

Steel Rebels? The motorcycle club?

I lean to the side to stare at him before slowly looking up at my brother. My ears must be failing me. I must have heard the man wrong. That has got to be it because surely there is no way in hell Ransom would be dumb enough to steal from the infamous motorcycle club. There are petty criminals and small gangs that love to wreak havoc in the city, and then there’s the Steel Rebels MC.

The Steel Rebels are known to be the most dangerous men in all of Chicago. Just a few weeks ago, they took out the Chrome Vipers, another criminal motorcycle club that used to terrorize the area where I work. The Vipers forced every business in the area to pay a protection fee when they were the ones making life a living hell for everyone. And yet, the Steel Rebels ran them out of town before taking over their territory. Now they don’t just own one area of the city, they control more than half of Chicago.

And these are the men that Ransom stole from?

I fight the urge to smack the back of my brother’s head or kick him in his shin. Anything to knock some sense into thatempty brain of his. God, he’s lucky I got here when I did, or he’d be dead already. The men in the club are not exactly rumored to be patient or understanding.

No, Ransom was writing his own death warrant when he stole from them.

“I’ll go with you,” I offer quietly, but the two men clearly hear me as they both turn to look at me. My eyes stay on those steel gray ones, my heart pounding as the next words slip out. “If you promise not to hurt my brother and give him a month to return the money he took, then I’ll come with you.”

“No! I will not allow it,” my brother yells, but he doesn’t have a choice.

---