Page 4 of Gage

“Because he arranged a marriage I refused and made it clear my answer didn’t matter. So I told him what he wanted to hear, got away from his hired muscle Rafael and came here before my father could close the gap.”

“Why here?” Gage asked.

“Because I can’t outrun my father forever, and I don’t know anywhere else where he can’t just send men to collect me.”

Gage looked at Preacher. “If you’re good with it, Prez, I’ll take her. Security’s mine. Give her provisional protection while I hear her out and check what she gives us.”

Preacher studied him and some unspoken language seemed to move between them before he eventually nodded. “Fine, it’s your call.”

Preacher turned back to me. “Provisional. You stay inside the gate while Gage checks your story. Nobody hands you to Tomas while it stands. But if you lie to us, it ends, I’ll promise you that.”

Relief hit hard enough that I had to work to keep it off my face. “Agreed.”

Preacher pulled out a chair. “Now talk.”

I told them about Javier Mora, his family’s Deming operation and the support Tomas expected to gain from them. The part that mattered most was simple. The men he already had in Salvation weren’t enough anymore, so my father was bringing in reinforcements. I gave them the names I’d heard and the pieces I actually understood without dressing guesses up as facts.

The brother who had a patch on with the name Deacon asked for some more information. I gave him what I could, and nobody looked pleased when I finished.

Gage spoke from behind me. “Leave the car where it is. Doesn’t move any farther inside until I’ve checked it.”

CHAPTER 2

GAGE

I'd wanted Elena Rivas the moment I set my eyes on her, and that was the first problem.

She’d pulled up to the gate looking exhausted and scared, with one hand clamped hard around the steering wheel. Then she'd stepped out in dark jeans and a wrinkled blouse, looked directly at me and followed every instruction without acting submissive despite the fear in her eyes. But I’d also noticed her mouth, the shape of her hips and that fear she kept behind a careful voice. Her father's name turned the attraction into a security problem and trusting my judgment into a bad idea.

After I took her into church to discuss the situation with the club president Preacher. I needed to check over the one thing that I had a bad feeling about. Her car.

“Open the hood,” I said.

Elena set her bag down and reached inside for the release. She stayed where I could see her while I checked the engine compartment, under the seats and inside the trunk. The car held an umbrella, a blanket, two reusable shopping bags and enough dust to support her claim that she had driven straight from Las Cruces. Nothing looked wrong until I crouched beside the rear wheel.

A black plastic box sat inside the wheel well, held against the metal by two strong magnets, cheap and effective enough to place where she wouldn’t notice. This wasn’t my first rodeo and men like her father were predictable.

I pulled it free and stood with it in my hand. “You know what this is?”

She stared at it, all the color draining from her face. “Is that a...?”

“Tracker.”

Color returned fast, high across her cheeks. She looked past me toward the gate, then at the clubhouse. “Shit. He knows I'm here.”

“Probably knew where the car stopped within a minute.”

“I didn't know. I swear to you, Gage, I left my phone and I didn't call anyone. I wouldn't have come here if I thought he could follow me to your gate.”

The reaction looked real enough to matter. She wasn't trying to explain the tracker away; she was already looking toward the gate and working out what it meant for everyone behind it. I believed the fear, but attraction had already screwed with my instincts once. I needed more than that before I cleared the rest of her story.

“Who knew you were coming here?”

“No one. I didn't know myself until I found the number.” Her chin lifted. “Ask what you need to ask. Just don't decide this means I brought it here on purpose.”

“Wasn't planning to.”

She held my gaze, anger starting to edge out the fear. That helped because fear could make people say whatever they thought I wanted; pissed-off Elena was harder to fake.