“Come on," she says, stepping inside and waving me in behind her.
The door closes, leaving us alone.
“There’s monitors so we can see what’s going on out there.” She takes a chair in front of a bank of monitors and flicks a switch that brings the screens to life. “I swear Cipher has this whole place under observation.”
With my pulse pounding in my ears, I sit next to her, desperate to know what's happening.
"—warrant to search these premises." Marco's voice comes through the speaker, smug and official.
Ghost stands, feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed over his chest. He looks every bit like what he is—the president of an outlaw biker club.
“You're welcome to search, Detective." Ghost’s tone is cool and unimpressed. "Though I fail to see what business the homicide division has at our private establishment."
"This isn't about a homicide." My uncle steps forward, sounding agitated and impatient. "It's about my niece, Aria Gallo. We have reason to believe you’re harboring her.”
Paper rustles. "I have a court order granting me temporary conservatorship due to her declining mental state. She's been exhibiting paranoid delusions, making up grandiose stories. Her therapist believes she's having a psychotic break."
Rage flows through my veins like lava flowing from an active volcano.Therapist?I've never seen a therapist in my life! Anddeclining mental state? The absolute gall of this man to paint me as crazy when he's the one trying to sell me like cattle!
"Don't know any Aria," Hawk drawls. "But you're welcome to look around."
Heavy footsteps move through the main room. I hold my breath, even though Sophie assures me the room is soundproof.
"We know she's been seen with members of your club," Marco says, his voice getting louder as he approaches the hallway. "A witness placed her on the back of a motorcycle matching yours, Reynolds."
"Lots of Harleys in this town, Detective." Hawk's voice remains casual, but I can hear the underlying disdain.
More footsteps, doors opening and closing. They're searching the clubhouse. My heart threatens to burst from my chest.
"Any of you ladies seen this young woman?" Marco again, presumably showing my photo.
"Never seen her before in my life,” Angel responds smoothly.
“Oh, she’s pretty,” Luna adds, almost making me smile. “But no, I haven’t seen her.”
“Is she the one who’s missing?” Rose asks. “Poor thing."
I can't believe it. These women I've just met are lying to the police for me. Protecting me. My throat tightens with emotion.
The search continues for what feels like hours, but is probably only about twenty minutes.
Finally, Marco, looking furious, announces, "If I find out you're harboring her, there will be consequences. Severe ones."
“Us? Break the law, Detective?” Ghost replies sarcastically. “Not a chance.”
The front door slams, and the clubhouse remains silent for several long moments. Then the door to my hiding place opens, and Hawk stands there. His face, hard with anger, softens the moment our eyes meet.
"They're gone," he says, crossing the room in two strides and pulling me into his arms.
I collapse against his chest, trembling. "I'm so sorry. I'm putting all of you at risk. My uncle—he lied. I've never had mental health issues. I've never even seen a therapist.”
Hawk's hand strokes my hair. "We know, little sparrow. No one believed that bullshit for a second."
"But what they're doing—getting court orders, making up lies—they won't stop."
“You're mine now and no one's taking you from me,” Hawk growls. "The club has weathered worse storms than a corrupt cop and a wannabe gangster."
The fierce possession in his voice wraps around me like armor. He takes my hand. "Come with me. There's somewhere I want to show you."
