Was it Spider? I’m not so sure.

  I remember walking past and giving him a small smile, and while I looked up, I didn’t really see. It was like a natural instinct—look up, smile, mind your own business, and keep walking. There was no conversation or any real acknowledgment of why he was still here even after Mason Ledger was found dead.

  “Mace. Come on, babe. Don’t make me bust this fucking door down,” Alex calls from the hall. “I need to know you’re okay.”

  Shaking off the uneasy feeling, I pick up my pace before clutching onto the latch and trying to unlock the door and then the deadbolt. It takes way too long in my sleepy haze, but hearing me fiddling with the locks from the other side of the door seems to ease Alex’s worries, and he chills out with the heavy pounding.

  When my door swings open, Alex immediately strides in, his hands going to either side of my face as he pulls me in, looking over me in a blind panic. “You’re okay?” he rushes out, pulling me into his bare chest and crushing me against him.

  I hastily pull back, knowing that couldn’t possibly feel good with his new ink, and I press my hands to his warm skin. “I’m okay,” I tell him. “But something is going on outside. I think it’s one of Viper’s men. You know, the one we saw chilling outside when we got back.”

  “Shit, really?” he asks, a slight relief in his tone. “After everything you told me last night about this asshole who’s been sneaking into your room, I thought the worst.”

  “Really, I’m okay,” I tell him, pulling him deeper into my apartment and kicking the door closed behind us. I drag him across the room, leading him toward the living room window before pointing down to the chaos below.

  “How can you be sure it’s one of Viper’s men?” Alex asks, peering into the darkness, the glow of the red and blue flashing lights dancing across our faces.

  “Apart from the deafening sound of every Harley in the city heading this way, he’s wearing his cut,” I explain. “I’m not entirely sure, I can’t quite see, but I think it might be Spider.”

  “Spider?” he asks. “You know their names?”

  “Kinda,” I say. “I don’t know them on a personal level, but over the past few years, at least half of them have been a client at some point, and they don’t usually come alone. For long sessions, they generally bring someone with them to keep them company. Spider though, he was the silent, brooding type. I’ve only had one session with him. We were only just getting started, but he would just sit in silence, glaring at the ceiling the whole time. It was a very uncomfortable three hours.”

  “Fuck, Mace. I’m sorry.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Like I said, I didn’t really know any of them on a personal level, but it still sucks. Though, I can’t help but wonder what happened to him,” I say, my brows furrowed. “Do you think he got shot?”

  Alex peers back out the window, gazing down at the scene below. “I don’t know. It’s too hard to tell from up here, but you would have heard a gunshot. Unless they used a silencer.”

  The guys from the Grim Reapers MC roll to a stop, and the sound is so loud, it vibrates right through the building and I’m forced to close my windows just so I can hear myself think. Then because I’m a nosey bitch, I head back into my bedroom and watch over the street, looking at the club members as they park their bikes and throw themselves over the other side of the police tape.

  “There’s no way in hell I’ll be getting back to sleep now,” I murmur.

  “You could always come over to my place and crash in my bed,” Alex says, leaning against the doorframe of my bedroom. “You’ll still hear all the bullshit going on out on the street, but at least you won’t have to deal with the flashing lights.”

  Glancing back, I flash him a stupid smirk before immediately feeling guilty for smiling when someone’s just been murdered outside my building. “Nah, even then I won’t be able to sleep. I’m not sure if you’ve figured this out yet, but I’m nosey as fuck. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping until I know exactly what—woah. Wait,” I say, clutching onto the window ledge and leaning closer to get a better view of the street and the biker I just watched arrive. “That’s Spider there.”

  “Huh?” Alex mutters before striding in next to me and glancing down at the street. “If that’s Spider, then who the fuck is dead in the alley?”

  I shake my head, that same uneasiness settling back into the pit of my stomach. “I don’t know,” I breathe, already rushing through my apartment. “I . . . I’ll be back in a minute,” I call over my shoulder.

  “Where the fuck are you going?” he says hurrying after me.

  “I need to know,” I tell him, grabbing the door handle and yanking it open, despite the fact that I’m wearing nothing but a tiny crop top and sleep shorts.

  “Need to know what?” he says, hurrying after me, easily keeping up with me on the stairs.

  “I don’t know,” I say, clutching the railing to keep from falling to my death. “I just . . . I have a bad feeling about this, and Viper—”

  “You think it’s Viper?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure, but I just . . . I need to find out.”

  “Alright, Mace,” he says, taking my hand. “The cops aren’t going to let you anywhere near him, but we can ask some of the club members. But if this is one of their brothers, they’re not going to be open for prying. Find someone you know, ask what you need to know, and get out of there. These aren’t the kind of guys you want to be messing with, especially in the face of something like this.”

  I nod as Alex leads me down the rest of the steps, forcing me to slow my pace so I don’t end up needing a nose job. As we hit the front door and break out into the chilly night, he keeps me right at his side.

  The noise out here is deafening, and as news reporters and more cops show up, Alex leads me over to the police tape. “See anyone you know?” he asks, nodding toward the group of bikers who are all hovering around one another, a few of them glancing up toward my apartment while a few look as though they’re ready to slaughter everyone who even thinks about looking at them wrong.

  I nod as I spy the president’s wife, or I suppose old lady is what she’d prefer to be called. “Estée,” I call out, watching as her gaze flicks toward me.

  She’s a sweet girl, definitely way too young to be married to the president of an outlaw motorcycle club, but she has an edge to her and can more than hold her own. She hurries over to me, crossing her arms to fend off the bite in the early morning air. “Girl, you shouldn’t be out here,” she warns me.

  “What?” I grunt, my brows furrowing. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

  She glances back at her club, her husband watching her cautiously, never letting her out of his sight. “It’s Viper,” she finally says, her gaze softening as she reaches out and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, girl. I know you guys were maybe going to be something one day.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s not Viper. Spider was on watch tonight. Viper wasn’t even here.”

  “He relieved Spider a little after one in the morning, told him to go home,” Estée says. “After what happened to Mason Ledger, he wanted to look out for you tonight. Wasn’t sure if the threat was really gone.”

  Fear pounds through my veins at the mention of Mason’s name, and I grab Alex’s hand, glancing up and meeting his curious gaze. I see the question in his eyes, wanting to know what the hell Estée is referring to, but now isn’t the time or place to go into it. That’s a conversation to have behind closed doors.

  Glancing back at Estée, I shake my head, refusing to believe what I’m hearing. I just lost Crew. The wounds haven’t even begun to heal yet, and now she’s trying to tell me that Viper is gone too. “No,” I breathe, my gaze shooting back toward the alley, only with the sea of bikers and the cops lingering around, it’s impossible to make out a body.

  My heart races, cracking a little more with each wild beat until it’s nothing but a shattered mess on the floor. Tears fill my eyes, and while I always knew I was never going to end up with Viper, he was still one of the only people in this life I could depend on. “Are you sure it’s him? Did you check? Did the cops let you check?” I break into a panic, my chest beginning to ache. “It can’t be him. I . . . I wasn’t finished with his chest piece and—”

  “It’s him,” Estée tells me, gripping my chin a little too firmly, demanding I keep my cool. “We checked. His throat was slit. But like I said, you shouldn’t be down here. A lot of these guys at my back aren’t happy that they’d been put on protection detail for a woman who wasn’t an old lady, and right now, they’re looking for someone to blame. So I suggest you get your perky little ass out of here, and while you’re at it, do what you can not to flaunt the fact that you’re fucking someone else. Don’t try and shit all over Viper’s memory like that. Let him go with dignity.”

  I swallow hard and nod. “Of course.”

  “I know you and Viper weren’t anything serious yet,” she says, speaking about us as though it was somehow already a done deal. “But some of us already considered you part of the family. We obviously haven’t worked out the details yet, but we’ll have a private burial for our VP in a few days. I’ll text you with the details. And in the meantime,” she adds. “Don’t be surprised if my boys come around asking questions.”

  “Sure thing,” I say, glancing back toward the alley one more time before looking over the club members, hating how a few of them look at me with a deep suspicion in their eyes.

  Estée doesn’t hang around, walking straight into her old man’s arms, the two of them speaking quietly between themselves, and as his terrifying gaze lifts to mine, I whirl on my heel and get my ass back up to my apartment.

  By the time I’m pushing through the door, my face is streaked with tears. Alex immediately pulls me into his arms. “I’m sorry, Mace. I didn’t realize how close you and Viper were.”

  “We weren’t. Not really,” I tell him. “He always had this fantasy that I would be his old lady one day, and every time he’d say it, I’d subtly shut him down. But to be fair, I was barely seventeen when he first started asking me about it, and at first, I thought he was just kidding, you know, trying to be flirty. But as it went on, I realized he was serious. That life though, always being on the run from the cops and dealing with the kind of secrets and lies that could get you killed isn’t for me. I never would have cut it, and on some level, I think Viper knew that, but he wasn’t ready to give up the dream just yet.”

  “What do you mean just yet?”

  “He was just getting a little more persistent is all,” I say, shrugging my shoulders as I pull out of his arms, mulling over everything that’s just happened. I drop onto the couch, pulling one of the cushions into my chest, when a thought occurs to me, sending me into a wicked spiral. “What if this is my fault?”

  “The fuck?” Alex says, walking over and crouching down in front of me, holding my chin as our gazes collide. “How the hell could this be your fault? You were asleep.”

  “Yeah, but . . . what if it was the guy who’s been sneaking into my room?” I say, my hands shaking with the thought, terrified that if the Grim Reapers were to come to the same conclusion, my life would be in imminent danger. “Every night those bikers sit in front of my building. They never get off their bikes, just sit there smoking their shitty cigarettes. But Viper changed the rules. He got off his bike, and the only reason he would have done that is if he saw something, right? And when I was woken by the sirens, my window was open again, meaning my stalker had been here again.”

  “Mace,” Alex says, his tone shifting with concern.

  “What if my stalker did this, Alex?” I ask, the tears now streaming down my face. “Viper was here to protect me, and my stalker was here because I’ve failed to do anything about it. What if Viper saw him leaving my apartment and confronted him? What if Viper’s throat was slit because of me?”

  “Fuck, Mace,” Alex breathes, grabbing my hips and yanking me off the couch and into his arms. I drop down, my knees falling on either side of his strong thighs as he wraps his warm arms around me. “It’s going to be okay, Kyah. This isn’t your fault.”

  “The Grim Reapers might not see it that way,” I tell him. “What am I supposed to do? If I keep this from them, I look guilty, but if I tell them, I could be leading myself into an early grave.”

  “I’m sorry, Mace. I really don’t know what to tell you, nor is it a decision I can make on your behalf,” he tells me. “But if I were you, I would use today to grieve. Cry all your tears, get fucking wasted if you have to. Then come tomorrow, we can work out a plan.”

  I lift my teary gaze, my heart racing so fast it hurts. “We?” I ask, sniffling.

  “Yeah, Mace. We,” he tells me, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple before pulling back, the sweetest boyish grin gracing his face. “You didn’t think I was about to leave you to face a mob of angry bikers, did you?”

  A small smile pulls at the corners of my lips, and as his eyes sparkle like the night stars, I take his hand and lift it to my lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. “Careful now,” I whisper. “You’re gonna make me fall in love with you.”

  “Good,” he murmurs, reaching up and brushing the tears from my face. “Because I think I’m already there.”

  32

  KYAH

  It’s been one hell of a long day, and a terrifying one at that.

  Today, I was a special guest at a biker burial, and if it weren’t for the fact that I was allowed to have Big Jim accompany me, I don’t know if I would have been able to make it. Alex was a firm no to the point I didn’t even bother asking if he could come with me, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to put Nat in that position. Hell, knowing her, she probably would have tried to jump in one of their beds and accidentally pick one who was already attached. Though to be honest, I think she might still be getting her rocks off with Sullivan.

  Considering many of them already know and trust Big Jim, he was the most logical option, and he was honored to accompany me. Though, when the president sat me down and started asking me questions, Big Jim was more than on edge. But I swallowed the fear and told them everything they needed to know. Though the video surveillance from my apartment still fails to show anyone entering or exiting, so, they didn’t consider my stalker a viable suspect for Viper’s death. Hell, a few of them even questioned if my sanity was intact, but the good ones, the ones who actually give a shit whether I live or die, promised to look into it.

  The rest of the burial was more of a wild party. Once everyone had said their goodbyes, they opened the bar and everybody started to fuck around. I saw club whores sucking dicks in the middle of the bar, men snorting cocaine off coffee tables, while some scrawny dude who was screaming about being innocent was duct taped to a wall and used as a human dart board. Which is exactly when Big Jim and I decided it was a good time to bail.

  It’s been three days since Viper’s death, and since then, my creepy bedroom friend hasn’t swung by to pay me a visit despite the window remaining unlocked. Though considering the crime scene beside my apartment complex, it’s probably not a great idea to get caught sneaking around.

  Despite the club’s denial that my stalker might have had anything to do with this, there’s something in my gut that’s screaming at me that they’re wrong.

  I think about it the whole way home from the clubhouse and barely manage an audible goodbye to Big Jim before he drives off, making sure to hang around until I’ve entered my building. I make my way up to level three, and despite how desperately I want to collapse into Alex’s arms, I find myself detouring past his door and shoving my key straight into my lock.

  Since Viper was found dead, I haven’t been able to stop considering the very real possibility that my stalker was the one to do it, and I haven’t been able to shake the fear that I’m putting Alex in danger.

  I’m falling head over heels in love with him, and after already losing Crew and Viper, I’m not sure I can emotionally handle losing Alex as well, and I think he knows that. I’ve been pulling away, and considering everything that’s gone down, he’s allowed me my space, but it won’t last much longer. He simply doesn’t possess the self-control to keep away. And honestly, I think I love that about him. He knows when to push and when to hold back, and more importantly, he knows exactly how to do it in a way that always leaves me wanting more.

  Making my way into my apartment, my gaze lifts right to the window, and I despise the little flash of hurt that soars through my chest at finding it closed.

  He hasn’t been here, but why the hell should I want him to?

  It’s been days since he’s been in my room, days since he touched me last, days since I felt that strange rush of electricity as his fingers brushed over my thigh. I shouldn’t want him like that. Hell, I don’t even know what he looks like, still don’t even know his name, but I can’t help myself. I still crave that wicked presence.

  Maybe it’s the danger or the thought of being forced to put my trust in a man who desires vile things from me, having to trust that when he touches me, he’ll do it without force, that when he puts his mouth on me, he’ll only take as much as I’m willing to give. But most of all, I have to trust that if he ever grows bored and is ready to slip into another woman’s apartment, he’ll leave me with the ability to keep breathing.

  I hate that I don’t know his intentions, but considering how quick I am to assume he’s responsible for Viper’s death, I think I might already know the answer to that.

  My stalker is a bad man. He’s dangerous and capable of terrifying things, so why the hell am I still so wildly attracted to the thought of him sneaking into my room at night? Of him closing his mouth over my clit? Of him pushing his fingers deep inside my pussy? I’ve been dreaming about how it would feel when he fucks me. How he would feel. If he’ll take me rough and slam me against the wall. Will he demand to have me on my knees? Does he think about how it would feel to fuck my mouth? I can guarantee that I’ve thought about every possibility.