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“Bad call, little miss.”
I plopped the woman into a nearby chair. She immediately tried to push back onto her feet. I clamped a hand on her shoulder and shoved her down again.
“Sit,” I growled through my teeth.
She glared at me, sullen.
“Hate me all you want, honey,” I said. “You brought this on yourself.”
“I didn’t take your stupid bike,” she protested.
I leaned in closer until we were nearly nose to nose.
“Tell me why you tried to steal it in the first place and I’ll think about letting you go.”
She slouched in her chair and scowled to indicate she had no intention of cooperating.
Kingpin hummed a low, faint laugh and shook his head.
“Be careful throwing that attitude around, little miss. Big G likes the challenge of taming a brat.”
“You can’t keep me here,” she said. “It’s illegal.”
Tex snorted from his seat a few feet away. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, his chair tipped back, chewing idly on a toothpick.
“Do we look like we give a damn about the law around here, darlin’?” he drawled.
The thief glanced around the room, taking in the sight of ten men and one woman, wearing black leather cuts, heavy biker boots, studded with piercings, and riddled with tattoos. Not exactly upstanding citizens of Buckeye Junction, Montana.
“What’s your name, sweetie?” Baby Doll said from behind the bar.
She tucked a rag in her back pocket as she approached. Baby Doll was our secret weapon—friendly, charming, flirtatious, and smart as a whip. She knew how to play people like a fiddle, leveraging their weak spots to her advantage.
“Why do you want to know?” the thief demanded. “So we can be besties and braid each other’s hair at a sleepover while we giggle over cute boys? No thanks.”
Baby Doll let out a low whistle and held up her hands, backing away.
“You picked up a prickly one, Big G. She’s all yours.”
I shifted into the thief’s line of sight until she had no choice but to tear her attention away from Baby Doll and focus on me.
“It’s called an introduction, you feral little shit,” I said. “Or have you lived in the gutter with the rats so long that you forgot how to behave yourself?”
“How many times do I have to tell you?” she replied, biting off every word. “I don’t give a flying fuck. I just want to leave.”
Kingpin stubbed out his cigar in an ashtray.
“What do you plan to do with her?”
“I bet she’s wanted for something,” Spike put in. “You could talk to the police. Maybe there’s a cash reward for turning her in.”
Our thief frowned harder, but that didn’t hide the fact that her face went a little pale. She definitely didn’t like the idea of getting the police involved.
“I didn’t steal that fucking bike, okay?” she spat. “Sure, I thought about it, but I didn’t do it. So, you have to let me go.”
She fixed me with a fierce stare. I gazed back, studying the rigid tension in her body language, and the way every muscle in her body strained to get the hell out of here.
“Vlad, hand them over,” I said without looking away from her.
