Page 11 of Property of Rattler

She shakes her head.

“Club’s not going to consider taking you on as a client unless you’re honest.” Do I give a fuck I’m taking the Kings’ name in vain? No, I do not. I have a feeling that most brothers in this situation would do the same.

Again, she breathes deeply in, then exhales the total out. “Ten million.”

Just wait a moment. I try to compute what she’s told me. She lives to twenty-one, she inherits ten fuckin’ million bucks. She dies before, and her brother gets the money. Unless, she’s married before reaching that age, in which case, if something happens to her, the lucky man inherits.

Yeah, that’s interesting, but… “Your brother wants you dead for ten million dollars?” I find that hard to believe. I’ve no family, never even had parents, though I suppose I arrived at the fire station's doors from somewhere. There were no kindly grandparents for me, only a foster system I’d had to fight to survive. I don’t know what it’s like to have siblings. Other than the brothers in my club, and for them, I’d shed blood and, when earning my patch, had truthfully sworn I’d die for them. Would I betray them for ten million big ones? There’s not a chance in this world.

While she doesn’t cry, I can see moisture forming in her eyes as she simply answers, without embellishment, “Yes.” Then she adds, hurriedly, “He always resented me. He was the golden boy before I came along. He’s never shown that he recognises me as family. He called me a changeling. Growing up?” She huffs a mirthless laugh and looks around her. “Well, let’s just say, I’ve had plenty of experience being stuck in closets.”

Could I be blamed when I’ve got an attractive young woman lying under me, and one who’s worth ten million bucks, that I suddenly start looking at her differently? My mind starts working at warp speed, and I realise there’s somethingI’m missing. “And what about your sister? Doesn’t she get anything?”

“Full disclosure?” she asks. I raise my chin. “Satin’s not a relation of mine.” Again, she bites her lip. “I was studying Forensics at West Valley, Arizona State University. One night, instead of going home to where I still lived with my grandparents—I stayed with them to save money, you know?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I was invited out to a party. I spent the night with a friend.” She swallows hard, and I can see she’s struggling to continue.

“Go on.” My voice is gentler now.

Her body shudders, and I can feel it through mine. I move my pelvis slightly. I might not like the bitch, but the movement of her body’s having an effect on my dick.

“When I got home, there were fire engines, police, ambulances.” She swallows again and cuts to the chase. “Both my grandparents were dead. Carbon monoxide poisoning.” Her brow creases. “I couldn’t understand. Grandpa was anal about checking the batteries in all the alarms. But their deaths were considered accidental, old people being careless.” I may, as she’s said, be an asshole, but it’s hard not to be sympathetic. And fucking suspicious. “Malachi came home. He’s got his own house in Silverleaf, but he moved back for a while. To look after me, ostensibly. One night, he’d thought I was asleep, but I’d come down for some water and overheard him talking on the phone. He was telling someone his plan hadn’t worked, that I hadn’t died, and that they’d have to come up with some other option to deal with me.”

“So, you ran.”

“I ran,” she agrees. “Well, I walked. I left the next morning as usual. I nearly choked trying to act normally. I only took my book bag with me so I wouldn’t raise suspicions. I knew I could never go back home. I had no idea what he planned for me.” Iraise my chin in encouragement. “I was an heiress, but I didn’t have access to the money. Even if I had, well, as you figured out, Malachi isn’t an accountant. He’s risen fast in the world of technology. I knew enough to ditch my phone and never use my bank cards, else I knew he’d be able to find me.” Her eyes fasten on mine. “I didn’t dare go to my friends or back to my studies. I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I used the last of my cash to get a ride to Tucson. Once there, I slept with the other homeless people until I was scared out of my mind when I was propositioned, and not very nicely. I ran…” Remembered terror is clear in her eyes, then her face relaxes as she lands on a more pleasant memory. “I literally bumped into Satin, who was just coming out of a strip club, and almost knocked her over. She steadied me, then took one look at my face and knew something had upset me. For some reason, she helped me and took me under her wing. I told her some of my story—not the true amount of my inheritance, just that I would one day get a tidy sum, and that my brother was coming for me.”

“So how did you end up here?”

She gives a dry laugh. “Satin appointed herself my bodyguard. She decided Tucson was too close, and that I needed to get somewhere more anonymous, so we came down this way. Gravity was far enough away from him. It seemed like a nice town, and, well, the rest you know.”

I snort. “Some fuckin’ bodyguard. She left you high and dry tonight.”

“She had stomach cramps.” Her eyes narrow.

“Honey, they mentioned her name. They know you’re with her. You don’t think she dobbed you in for money?”

She stiffens. “They didn’t know where she lived.” She thinks for a moment, then shakes her head vigourously. “No, Satin wouldn’t have betrayed me.”

CHAPTER SIX

AMES

Satin wouldn’t have betrayed me.Would she? No, I can’t believe it.

Then, even though I’d known Malachi had only ever perceived me as a nuisance, I’d never thought for a moment he’d go so far as to kill me just to get my inheritance. It was only later, when I put the pieces together, I’d realised he’d meant me to die in the ‘accident’ that killed Gramma and Grandad, the only parents I had known, memories of my real ones lost in the mists of time.

I hadn’t had long to grieve them. My sadness at the loss of my grandparents had to be put on the back burner. As soon as I heard Malachi plotting my demise, and hence suspected my brother was involved in their deaths, my focus had been on survival.

Once I’d fled, I’d looked back through a different lens. That time my car brakes had failed? It had been a miracle that I was only going twenty at the time, due to a traffic jam on the freeway. And that drink that tasted odd? I’d only had one mouthful before spewing my stomach contents up. Then therewas the man who’d chased me with a knife in his hand. Luckily, my college friend was an expert in martial arts and had disarmed him. Recent events have put the past in perspective. Malachi had tried to dispose of me many times.

Rattler is still lying over me. As I stare into his eyes, I wonder whether I’ve given this man the power to destroy me. He’s heard as clearly as I have that Malachi would reward the man who finally ended my life. Although I can’t fault how the Kings have behaved toward me—giving me a job, tolerating my mistakes, and, yeah, he’d been right to point it out—clumsiness. But hey, what woman wouldn’t stumble when a stranger fondled their ass? Despite that, the Kings in general have been pretty decent. They are an MC, criminals on the wrong side of the law. Was I wrong to lay everything out to him? Would he, or his club, be tempted by easy money?

I can’t read him. He seems nonplussed by my story. Does he even believe me? In this stupid uniform the Kings give their servers, could he believe I come from a moneyed line and in a position to inherit a fortune?

For what seems like hours, Rattler has trapped me with his body, but now he slowly lifts himself away. Even freed, I remain where I am for a minute before pulling myself into a sitting position and placing my head into my hands.

Rattler’s right. Malachi has the means to find me, whether Satin betrayed me or not. And while I already know I can’t underestimate my brother, getting into the Royals tonight required skills I didn’t think he was capable of.

Running is obviously not the answer. But perhaps I’ve already come up with another option—asking the Kings to protect me, even if I can’t pay them for a year and a half. Or, could there be yet another solution?