SPARTAN (Iron Kings MC, #2) Read online

  Sculpted muscle everywhere. Built like a frigging Viking warrior of old. Ink covered his right shoulder and stretched around and down to his chest. There was another tattoo on his upper back, as well as the crest of the Iron Kings MC on his inner forearm, a skull with wings and a crown, riding a motorcycle. I was a sucker for men with tattoos.

  Everything about Spartan was perfection. Even his dirty-blond hair was styled all sexy, short and cropped on the sides but wild on top. He had several piercings in both ears, a hoop hanging from his left eyebrow and a stud in his nose. His eyes were a uniform shade of slate-gray, no break in the color, just purely that. The thick stubble over his jaw had replaced his normal clean-shaven appearance.

  It was weird being up so close and personal with him today. I hadn’t seen him for a while, because, right after a rumored war between his club and the formerly notorious Rogue Riders MC, he’d disappeared, hiding out in his clubhouse, according to the talk around the nosy town of Ridgefield.

  “You gonna join me, or what?” he asked.

  I jolted, my eyes snapping back to his face. Talk about being caught out. He smirked slyly, letting me know that he’d noticed me checking him out.

  “Uh… what?”

  “Are you gonna get changed?”

  Oh, right. That’s what he’d meant. Get a grip, Dani!

  “I’m fine if you just wanna keep drooling over my cock instead.”

  Oh God. This whole situation was mortifying. I couldn’t actually believe he’d just said that. It was so brazen. No, that didn’t even cover it. I didn’t know what the hell to say to that. I ended up stumbling over my words, mumbling, “I… just put it away.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. God!” I turned away and muttered over my shoulder. “And why is it—why are you—hard?”

  “Some smoking-hot babe had her hands on me, offering herself up for a good fucking.”

  I stilled at his words. “Oh.”

  I'd had that much of an impact on him? Just that brief touch had gotten him that worked up?

  “Surprised you ain’t jumped me yet. Just the two of us in here, me already naked, you all worked up. What’s stopping you? All this shyness and shit ain’t the message you were sending my way a few minutes ago. Hell, it ain’t what you been sending me since I known you.”

  I cringed. I was messing it up big time. This was not how I’d imagined it going with him.

  I was supposed to be the one leading the charge. I knew he was gun-shy. Everybody in town was familiar with his tragic story. So, I’d always been the one to ease things along, to initiate our banter, our flirting, all of it.

  And I liked it that way.

  Being in control of it, of what happened or didn’t happen, made me feel… safe.

  After everything that’d happened to me, I had to operate that way.

  I forced a shrug.

  Hearing the rustling of his clothing, then a fly zipping up, I turned back around. He had a pair of jeans on and pulled a black V-neck tee over his head.

  “Well?” he pressed.

  I shifted my weight, then told him as casually as I could fake in the moment, “I guess I was just all talk.”

  He scrutinized me for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, you meant it.”

  Dammit. I crouched down and pulled my hoodie out of my bag. Quickly slipping it on over my sports bra, I then reached for my jeans and started pulling them on over my shorts.

  “You’re shitting me with this,” he commented, seeming just a breath away from full-on laughter.

  My gaze shot to him as I fastened my jeans. “Excuse me?”

  “Putting your clean clothes on over your workout clothes? Come on, love.”

  “I—"

  “Coulda just asked me to turn around if you were that embarrassed by my eyes on your skin.”

  Before I could get another word out, he stepped closer, making my breath hitch. He was just shy of my personal space as he leaned down and said with a sexy huskiness, “You planning on me fucking you with your clothes on? You forgot to include that in your earlier offer.” He pulled back, grinning, “I’m thinking you should clarify. You know, just so I’m up to speed on the way it’s gonna go down.”

  I’d known he’d had a very slight sense of humor, but this was beyond that.

  I liked it. A lot.

  I couldn’t help cracking a smile. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

  “I ain’t really known for it, but, yeah, I’m a funny guy when I wanna be.”

  “I like funny.”

  Our gazes locked. Heat sizzled between us.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Works out well then, don’t it?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Know what I like?”

  I swallowed hard, the intensity between us making my throat as dry as sandpaper. “What’s that?”

  “I like the real you I been getting to know at Legacies and around town. Not this shield you’re throwing up my way now.”

  Oh my God. He was beyond perceptive, almost a frigging mind reader or something.

  I took an uneasy step back. “I’m sorry. I… this… situation in here, it wasn’t in my plan. I don’t know how to—I can’t—I need to go.”

  Hastily, I snatched up my bag and bolted, shoving my way through the bathroom door.

  Crap. I’d bitten off more than I could chew when it came to Spartan.

  I’d made a mistake in thinking that I was ready.

  Clearly, I was actually a long way from it.

  3

  ~Spartan~

  ANOTHER DEAD-CENTER HEAD SHOT.

  Satisfaction surged through me as I took in the bullet hole that joined the other two, grouped real close together on the target in the distance. My aim was back to what it’d been during my military days. It’d just taken a few weeks of non-stop practice and discipline. I’d been way too rusty when I’d first started back up with my training.

  I still needed a bit more time, though.

  I had to keep pushing it until there were no doubts in my mind, no signs of weakness, until all of it became fluid and second nature to me once again.

  Until I was back to being the best of the best.

  Nothing less would be good enough.

  For fuck’s sakes, I was waging a one-man war.

  Mistakes or weakness could mean a death sentence and I had too many people counting on me, needing me real bad, to put myself in that position.

  I had to be smart about it, cautious.

  Re-centering my mind, my thoughts solely on the targets a few feet ahead of me, I snatched up another magazine, ready to reload, and fire off a few more rounds, when my phone started buzzing on the bench over in the corner.

  With a grunt of annoyance, I loaded my piece, but flipped the safety back on and holstered it at my hip. I pulled my headphones off, set them down on the shelf to my left, then strode to the bench.

  Adrenaline shot through me when I got a look at the call display.

  Jesse Silver.

  I’d been waiting on his call for a long time.

  Swiping it, I answered, “About fucking time.”

  “Aww, I’ve been missing you too,” he answered, blowing right past my harshness and clear annoyance, trying to cut through it with his trademark ill-timed humor. The guy just couldn’t hold back that dry wit of his, no matter the situation. And no matter how frustrated and verging on pissed somebody was.

  Before I could get another word out, he asked, “Are we good? Is the line secure?”

  “You know me. Secure and fucking paranoid.”

  “Sorry, I have to check.”

  “Ain’t been doing that with Finn, the way I been hearing it.”

  “Finn’s the exception. He’s more paranoid than either of us. For good reason, too.”

  It was real slight, but still noticeable to the likes of me. He was fishing for intel on him, wanting to know that he was doing all right. “He’s go
od,” I offered up. “Settling down with Ash and the club. It’s all been good for him.”

  “I’m glad.” There was a beat, then he told me, “This road you’re going down right now, that we’re going down, I don’t want him knowing anything about it.”

  That was as close to an actual order that he’d ever had the balls to throw at me. It just showed how worried he was about it. I was right there with him. The last thing I wanted was Finn getting pulled into this. He’d had enough of that to last a bunch of lifetimes. Aside from what it’d do to him and his ongoing recovery from all of that, I also had to keep it off his radar for my baby girl’s sake. They were together now, even getting ready to move in with each other. Whatever touched Finn would impact her. And I wouldn’t have it.

  “He ain’t gonna know nothing about it. The club neither. Chill.”

  “Good,” he said. I heard him typing away. “So, your intel was right on. You got really close.”

  If I’d been able to use my contacts I’d established as club president, I would’ve managed it too. My target walked in those circles and my MC contacts could reach deeper into that world than any of my other contacts who were mostly military related. But seeing as though I was hell-bent on keeping the club outta it, I’d been handicapped a bit on getting any closer to the motherfucker. Luckily for me, I had Jesse.

  “Where?” I barked, before I could reel it in. I felt my fingers tightening around my phone in my desperation, just shy of crushing the thing. It’d been too long since I’d first started trying to track down that piece of shit. And now I was so close, so fucking close.

  “I’m tightening the net now.”

  Disappointment settled in my gut. “You don’t have it yet? Why are you calling me then?”

  “We’re gonna make a deal first.”

  “What?” I growled. “You really think it’s a good idea to fuck with me over this, of all things?”

  I weren’t one to threaten my allies or my friends. But that’d been pretty damn close to doing that. Fuck. I wasn’t myself when it came to none of this. When it came to that fucker, Knox. I was surprised I’d held it together this long, even through the recent war with the Rogues. I must’ve reached my limit now.

  Still, Jesse didn’t deserve my wrath, none of it. And he wasn’t a guy I wanted to alienate.

  I started pacing, trying to calm myself down. “Sorry, all right? None of this is on you, J.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I understand how this is for you. But, because of your emotional stake in it, I can’t let you do this alone.”

  “Already told you I ain’t involving the club.”

  “I’m talking about me.”

  I pulled up short, real surprised by his words. Back when we’d met in the SF, he’d been a desk jockey. I knew he’d once worked in the field, but only real brief.

  “You ain’t field-ready.”

  “And you are? It’s been years for you too, Scott.”

  I blew out a breath. “Why do you wanna do this with me?”

  “Even without his club, Knox is dangerous. He’s also a wanted man. You going after him is a massive risk. And if you end up dead, or even in jail, everything comes crashing down. Your VP isn’t ready to take your place yet. He’s still got a lot to learn and issues to work out. Not to mention, with you out of the picture, all your resources and connections will be severed too. That means the club will no longer be protected, posing a risk to all of your members.”

  “You’re worried about Finn, what would happen to him without the club.”

  “Yeah, because I know what would happen. He’d have to go on the run again. It would break him and Ashley.”

  “What’s between you and Finn is more than friendship,” I accused. The guy was in his every thought, his every action, everything came back to him.

  “He joined Nemesis because of me.”

  “What?”

  “I was the one who heard about it and passed the info onto him. I encouraged him to apply. I thought it would be a good step up in his career. He was the best of us and he needed a greater challenge.”

  “The way it turned out weren’t your fault. Nobody saw the twisted shit they did coming.”

  “I should have. Intel is my job. I dig deep, find out things others can’t to gauge risk and protect people. That… fuckup was my biggest failure and it cost Finn everything. Because I dropped the ball.”

  Well, shit. That was what all his intense protectiveness when it came to Finn was about. He’d been shouldering all that guilt.

  “He don’t blame you. He puts it where it really belongs. On them. On Hammer. So should you,” I told him.

  There was a beat where I figured he was taking my words in. Then, in the next, he told me, “I’m doing this. I’m backing you up.”

  I blew outta breath. He was a stubborn son of a bitch. “Fine,” I agreed.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I ground out. “Just as backup. I’m taking point, you follow my lead, watch my six and that’s it. Shit goes down and you get the fuck outta Dodge ASAP. We clear?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good. Now, get me that motherfucker’s address.”

  “I’m on it. Just sit tight,” he said, before hanging up.

  I growled low in my throat as I pocketed my phone.

  Sit tight. I’d been doing that for a goddamn age.

  Knox Price had murdered my wife and he was still breathing. That took an unbelievable level of control on my end.

  But it’d been the right call for the way things had been at the time. I’d had a little girl at home who’d been grieving the loss of her mom. She’d needed me there with her more than getting vengeance and justice. The club had taken a massive hit with Knox’s betrayal. They’d needed me to lead them through it, to be the rock they’d always known me to be.

  Plus, Knox had gone to ground real fast after what he’d done, so he’d no longer technically been a threat to the club. Me putting all my resources and time into finding him just to exact punishment would’ve been beyond selfish. It would’ve compromised the club, big time.

  But things were different now.

  Sensing a presence all of a sudden, I spun toward the door of the indoor firing range.

  Sure enough, Finn was there leaning against it watching me.

  “Impressive,” he said. “You picked up on me right away.” He pushed off the wall and walked on in. “I haven’t seen you this alert and battle-ready since our SF days. I mean, you’ve still been good enough, especially during our recent battle with the Rogues, but nothing like this.” He rounded on me and looked me up and down in that invasive, assessing way. I knew that look from him well. It meant he’d picked up on something.

  “You’ve been working out harder than you have in a long time. You’re exercising hyper-vigilance at an extreme level. And you’ve been retreating into yourself, going the whole loner route for a while now.”

  “You know it’s bothering me having Knox still out there, waiting on the law to snag him. Once they do, I’ll calm down again.”

  He frowned, not buying it. “You don’t need this level of preparedness. He’s on borrowed time. They’ll get him any day now. What you’re doing here, it’s what you do when you’re gearing up for battle. This is your warrior mentality.”

  I shrugged, keeping it real casual. “It is what it is.”

  “Yeah? There’s not something you want to tell me then?”

  “Nah, can’t think of nothing.”

  “Scott—”

  I grasped his shoulder. “It’s all good, Finn.”

  When he moved to argue more, I strode past him, telling him over my shoulder, “I gotta head down to Tonic now and meet our contractor to talk about the overhaul we’re looking at doing. Gonna have to table your paranoia ‘til later, I guess.”

  Before he could get out another word, I walked out, heading up to my room to grab my cut, then head on out.

  Damn him and his intuition.

  It
’d nearly bitten me in the ass.

  And I couldn’t have anybody getting in the way.

  He might’ve stopped me from going after Knox once before, back when it’d been the right move to lay off.

  But he fucking well wouldn’t this time.

  Nobody was gonna stand in my way.

  4

  ~Daniella~

  THANK GOD.

  Long shift well and truly over.

  Until the next time.

  If I didn’t do something soon, there would always be a next time. I couldn’t bear the thought of that being my forever reality.

  The days and nights here dragged on painfully enough as it was, without the longer shift bullshit I’d had to pull today, because one of our new hires had called in sick with hardly any notice.

  Dammit. The mind-numbing work was getting to me more and more each day.

  When I’d first set foot in Ridgefield, I’d been desperate, caught in a whirlwind of adrenaline and rooted deep in survival mode. Getting any job at all that could put a roof over my head had been my only goal. Seeing as though I’d bartended for a couple of summers during my college years, Legacies had seemed perfect.

  At the time.

  But now two long years had gone by.

  And I was still here.

  Still unable to work in my true field, the career I’d spent so many years studying toward, then building, my frustration had been mounting.

  I’d thought I could do it, start a new life, and keep living it indefinitely.

  But I’d been wrong.

  I was going stir-crazy.

  I missed my architecture firm, Mosaic Designs, more and more with every passing day. I missed the complex, rewarding work. I missed my home.

  Above all, I missed being that powerful, independent, successful person.

  These days, I was just a shadow of my former self.

  Scott’s words to me the other day kept playing on my mind.

  “I like the real you I been getting to know at Legacies and around town. Not this shield you’re throwing up my way now.”

  The second I’d walked into that bathroom, the balance of power had shifted. His usual passive stance when it came to me had evaporated. He’d been the one with the control.

  Over the situation.