“Wait. We’re just going to ride up into their territory?”
AJ shrugged. “I don’t see why not. They rode into yours, didn’t they?”
“Yeah. With a gang. We can’t just—”
AJ put his arm around her. “Yeah, Teresa. We can. Don’t worry. Now, go put on some boots and let’s take a ride.”
She hurried to her room, put her hair in a ponytail, grabbed her boots out of the back of her closet and shoved them on, her heart pumping double time as she did.
She really didn’t ride. Not anymore. But for the second time in twenty-four hours she’d get on a bike again. For Joey, she’d do anything.
AJ and Pax were on their bikes as she closed the front door and headed out to the driveway. Pax had an extra helmet in his hand, so she went over and put it on, forcing her pulse to stop jackhammering.
“You look a little scared. You’ve ridden before, haven’t you?”
She gave him a quick nod, hating the paralyzing fear that always came over her whenever she thought about climbing on a bike again. She was just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. “Of course.”
“She’s been riding for years,” AJ said to Pax. “We used to ride dirt bikes together when we were kids. Then Teresa and Joey both got Harleys.” His gaze slid to hers. “You sell your old bike?”
She climbed on behind Pax and nodded at AJ. “Yeah, I sold it a while back.” There was no need to explain further.
Teresa leaned against Pax as they took off, inhaling the scent of his leather vest. The night was hot. He certainly didn’t need to wear anything but his T-shirt, but as she pressed closer, she felt the telltale bulge of his gun and realized the leather hid the weapon he carried. Since AJ also wore a vest, he must be armed, too, which both comforted and worried her.
The Fists weren’t a huge gang, but their numbers weren’t small, either. And heading into their territory wasn’t just a simple drive-by. Bikers riding into the northern territory who weren’t part of the gang were going to be noticed and watched to see if they were out for a joyride, or something else.
It took only about a half hour to reach the northern part of the city where the Fists territory began. Teresa directed Pax to the gang’s local hangouts, since she’d often listened in when Joey and the guys talked about riding around in the Fists’ area. He’d tried to maintain peace between the gangs, but had finally given up when it became clear that Larks had delusions of becoming huge in the area and he wanted to take over the southern territory. Joey had told Larks to stay the hell out or suffer the consequences.
Larks had suffered all right, but it hadn’t been at Joey’s hands, or the hands of any of the other Thorns. And now it was up to Teresa to find the man who did it, so her brother could get out of jail.
The problem was, none of the Fists were at any of their typical hangouts. They rode around to the bars, the bowling alley and the pizza place Teresa knew they frequented, and there wasn’t a single bike—or biker—around. It was like they were hiding out. Or simply not there.
After an hour and multiple trips, Teresa tapped Pax on the shoulder. “Give it up. They’re not here.”
Pax nodded and led them out toward the highway and south, back to Teresa’s place. She realized as Pax pulled the bike into her driveway that she’d been so preoccupied with finding the guy who stabbed Larks, had been so worried about Joey, that she hadn’t once thought about being on a bike again.
One test passed with flying colors, at least.
They went inside. Teresa pulled a few beers out of the refrigerator and brought them into the living room, stopping for just a moment before she stepped fully into the room, still taken aback at the sheer size of the two men who stood there.
A normal woman would have died to be in the same room with these two men.
A normal woman would have.
She craved that feeling, wanted it more than anything. All it took was some determination and she’d have it.
She relaxed her shoulders and brought the beers in, handed them off and took a seat on the chair across from the sofa. Putting herself in between them was just too much. She was already aware of herself as a woman whenever she was with them, and she wasn’t ready. Or maybe being with them made her feel more ready than she had been in years, and diving into that scared her.
Coward.
“So the Fists were nowhere to be found,” AJ said, his gaze fixed on Teresa. “Maybe they were out riding.”
“If they were riding in their own territory I would think we’d have run into them,” Teresa said. “I think they were somewhere else.”
“Or in hiding,” Pax said.
Teresa screwed the top off her bottle of beer and took a long swallow, letting the cool liquid coat her parched throat. She leaned back and kicked off her boots, pulling her feet underneath her. “Why would they be hiding?”
“To protect the guy who killed Larks.”
She hadn’t thought about that. “You might be right.”
AJ leaned forward. “What about Joey’s guys? They might know.”
“They might.” She pulled out her phone. “I’ll call Russ and see if he knows anything.”
She dialed the number. After a few rings, Russ answered, the sound of loud music in the background. Teresa had to yell for Russ to hear her. Obviously, he was in a bar. But not her bar, since it was still closed. She grimaced at the thought of all that lost revenue and waited while Russ stepped outside, away from the noise. She could tell from the sound of his voice he wasn’t happy to hear she had been on a ride up north. Then again, all the guys were protective of her.
Russ had no idea where the Fists could be, but he spent some time spewing invectives about his dislike of the gang and pointed the blame at them for Joey being in jail. Teresa didn’t disagree.
“He couldn’t shed any light on where the Fists might be,” she said as she slid her phone onto the coffee table.
“They can’t hide forever. Once they surface, we can go looking for the guy who stabbed Larks. If they’re protecting him, we’ll uncover him.” AJ leaned back against the sofa and propped his feet on the coffee table.
While AJ and Pax sat quietly drinking their beers, Teresa studied them side by side. AJ, with his dark good looks and smoky gray eyes, had always made her heart tumble. He had that sexy, bad-boy quality about him that would make any woman look twice. Pax had dirty blond hair that he wore short and spiked, a dark goatee lining his jaw, his body all lean muscle, the kind of body a woman would want to run her hands all over. The two men were a study in contrasts—so different and yet so similar. Both screaming masculine and sexy, commanding a woman’s attention in ways that were elemental and yet inexplicable.