Reign (Sin City Outlaws #1)

“What’s this about?”

“This?” Uncle Frank steps into the doorway. He’s a few inches shorter than me, his dark hair resting at his shoulders. He’s wearing an expensive black suit with a pink tie.

He rubs his clean-shaven face and bobs his head, his mouth twisted as he looks my men over.

“I was informed we have a pig out of place in our sheriff’s department.” His eyes finally meet mine, and my heart stomps with panic.

“What do you mean?” I swallow hard, trying to get my shit together.

“You were arrested?” His tone urges me to answer.

“Yeah, but it was handled.”

“Apparently, we need to remind them who they’re dealing with. We paid them, right?”

I sigh, running my hands down my chin.

“Jesus Christ, yes, they’ve been paid.” The Las Vegas Sheriff’s Department is dirty; we pay them to keep the fuck out of our business. When one arrests us, the deal is off and war is on.

“I was told otherwise.”

“Yeah, well, your ‘otherwise’ is bullshit.”

Machete, Felix, and Mac stand behind me. Three men I trust in this club with everything I am.

“So, what’s your plan then? What are you getting at?” Felix questions.

“I rounded up a few men, and we’re going to handle this little bitch who seems to be out of place. Something tells me she’ll jump in our pocket rather quickly.”

Blood boiling, I stomp forward at his mention of Jillian.

“These are my men, in case you forgot. You have to run this shit by me first!”

“Easy, brother,” Felix whispers behind me, trying to keep me calm.

“I do?” Frank tilts his head to the side, squinting at me.

“Fuck that.” Cross slides his slimy tongue along his bottom teeth, his eyes dilated with the urge to maim me.

“Are you protecting this bitch?”

I think all the blood drains from my face with that one question.

Stepping back, I recoil in disbelief. “You come into my club, take my men without asking me, saying to ‘fuck with the rules,’ then turn around and suggest I’m protecting a fucking pig?” I turn my head, glaring. “You better choose your next fucking words carefully.” Pulling my gun from my waist, I load a bullet into the chamber, my blue balls and anger overriding my thinking. I can feel the veins in my face and neck protruding with pent-up energy.

“I see.” He lowers his head, his chest rising with a breath. “Well, I’m taking some of the lower ranks, and Bones. I was informed by a deputy that this girl is working tonight and where she’d be during her shift. The boys are already heading there as we speak.” Looking over his shoulder, I notice the prospects and Bones are gone.

My fists flex, my chest nearly exploding with the urge to burst through the door and race toward Jillian.

“Got it,” is all I can say, and I can barely push those words out.

Cross grins wickedly then turns and leaves.

“Dude, what the fuck—”

“Give me your keys.” I hold my hand out to Felix.

“What for?”

“Give. Me. Your. Fucking. Keys.” I grit each word, my stare bearing down on him. I could take my bike, but it’s getting an oil change by one of the prospects.

“Yeah, fine.” He pulls his keys out and drops them into my palm.

Pushing my way out of the club, Felix and Machete are hot on my tail.

“Why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on?” Felix shouts.

“You ain’t going alone, brother!” Machete adds.

Opening the cab door, I point at them both.

“Stay. I’ll be back.”





JILLIAN


Heading to my usual hunting spot, my phone starts to vibrate like crazy in my cup holder. Picking it up, it’s Zeek. My finger hovers over the Accept button. Should I? Shaking my head, I put it down. No, he needs to work harder to show me I’m not just some piece of side tail. As soon as my phone stops vibrating, it starts back up again.

“Jesus, the man is relentless.” Bikes roar up behind me, clearly going way too fast. They pull to the side, allowing a white truck to pass between them. It looks like a lifted Cummins. It’s a big truck, and speeding, as well.

I swear if this is Zeek’s way to get me to talk to him, chasing me down while I’m on duty, I’ll shoot him. My heart flutters that he would do such a thing, but realistically that would out both of us and what we’re doing. I doubt it’s him.

A motorcycle rides up beside me, clearly a Sin City Outlaw. Looking behind him, he gives a thumbs-up.

What the hell?

My car is suddenly thrusted forward, the wheel trying to slip from me.

Fuck!

Glancing in my rearview mirror, bright headlights blind me as the truck slams into my cruiser again.

I scream as my body pushes against the seatbelt with force.

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