Christ. That moment when he saw T-Rex on the sidewalk … Never in a million years would he have guessed that today would end with T-Rex coming home.
With his bike on full throttle he hit the highway and blasted down the road. He couldn’t go back to the clubhouse because he was burning to share his secret, his joy, and the absolute thrill of discovering his searching, his hope, and his faith hadn’t been in vain.
This night deserved a toast, but T-Rex didn’t want to go for a drink. He was worried about Naiya.
Sweet girl. Beautiful. Spine of steel, walking into Rider’s Bar the way she did and going behind T-Rex’s back to save him. But Tank didn’t get that relationship. She was the opposite of the loud, brash, chatty girls T-Rex usually went for—women who were the life of the party, aggressive, confident, and a challenge to get into bed. Ironically, Naiya was Tank’s type, and Ella was T-Rex’s type.
Ella who had hacked into his phone.
What the fuck was he going to do? He couldn’t face the humiliation of telling his brothers, and there was always the risk they would tell Jagger, and he would be kicked out of the club. T-Rex would have kept his secret, but he couldn’t burden his brother on the eve of his return. He would have to sort out the problem himself. Tank had been played, and now it was his turn to do the playing. He had to find out what Ella had learned from going through his phone and what she intended to do with the information. Failure wasn’t an option.
After fuelling up his bike and buying a good bottle of whiskey as an excuse for his visit, he drove to Ella’s house in a fancy suburb of Conundrum. He parked at the end of the block and walked past the assorted BMWs, Aston Martins and Bentleys, pausing to admire what had to be one of the coolest fucking bikes he’d ever seen: a Harley Sportster bobber boasting ape hangers and custom paint on the tins, all black and red to match the painted rims. It had been totally modded out and polished to a high shine. Someone had dropped some serious cash and some serious time into that bike. It was all about power and show, the kind of bike a president would ride.
With the bagged whiskey in one hand, he knocked on Ella’s door. She hadn’t answered the text he’d sent her, but he’d taken a chance she was at home, and he was glad he did. Her car was in the driveway, and the lights were on. Party time.
He heard swearing, the thud of feet, and then Ella pulled open the door.
Tank had never seen her look anything other than impeccably groomed. Even when she’d tried to seduce him the other night, she remained perfectly composed. But now, she was totally disheveled, her lipstick smeared, her hair tangled, and the pristine white silk robe she had teased him with the other day was dirty and torn.
“Ella? You okay?”
She stepped forward, blocking the door, and fixed him with what could only be an exasperated stare. “What are you doing here, James?”
Tank held up the bottle. “Thought you might want to have a drink with me. T-Rex is back.” He didn’t have to feign his enthusiasm. His joy at having T-Rex back was almost overwhelming.
Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and she cocked her head to the side. “He’s back with the Sinners?”
Tank’s shoulders dropped the tiniest bit. Naiya had given him T-Rex’s cut, explaining that T-Rex refused to wear it. But now that Tank had explained everything, tomorrow they would go to the clubhouse, and T-Rex would wear his cut, and they would sit side by side at the boardroom table, and they would drink together, and laugh together, and everything would be right with the world.
Not that he could share any of this with Ella. He had to very careful about what he said. She was a reporter and they were all about taking small pieces of information and making them big. “Yeah. That’s right. Let me in, and we can toast him together. I wanna thank you for offering to help me and believing me, and I owe you an apology for the other day when I had to leave … unexpectedly.”
“Of course I believed you.” Her voice dropped to a sultry purr, and she pressed a kiss to his throat, her robe falling partway open. “I guess that was him down by the lake, too. With his girl. Taking care of that Black Jack VP…?”
Say nothing. Say nothing. Say nothing. This was his game, not hers. He just had to remember how much trouble he’d gotten into already by thinking with his dick.
“Dunno. We didn’t talk much. I’m gonna organize a welcome-home party—the best damn party the MC has ever seen.”
“He’s lucky to have you,” she said.
“And you’re lucky to have me here tonight so fucking jacked with happiness I’m gonna give you the time of your life.”
She bit her lip, sighed. “I can’t, baby. I was just on my way to the studio. There’s a breaking news story tonight, and I got called in.”
“Dressed like this?” He slid his hand over her robe, soft and silky to the touch.