My hand went up and across my body, massaging the sore muscles of my shoulder.

“Sorry about the floor,” Breaker's voice found me and my head jerked up to find him watching me from beside the doors, leaning against the wall, looking very much like he had been there a while.

“Were you watching me sleep, you creep?” I asked, my words more than a little surly. I was not, in any way shape or form, a morning person. Least of all when I spent my night tossing and turning on a cold, hard floor.

“It's noon,” he said, shrugging.

“That's not an answer,” I said, slowly getting onto my feet, rolling my shoulders.

“Come here,” his voice called, sounding almost soft.

My brow went up. “Is that an order?”

“Christ, woman, how are you so moody the second after you wake up?”

“Maybe it has something to do with being held against my will,” I said, crossing my hands over my chest.

“Or maybe you're just a bitch,” he said, giving me a smirk.

I felt my eyes lower. “You're an asshole.”

“Yep,” he agreed, not the least offended. “Now come over here,” he urged, letting his hands drop down by his sides.

Alright.

It was crazy to go to him.

I knew that. On a rational level.

But someone did not tell my feet that.

Which may or may not have had something to do with the fact that the cold, hard floor wasn't the only reason I had been tossing and turning all night. No, that also had a little something to do with a dream I kept having involving the badass blonde-haired, bearded, Hulk of a man telling me to come to him.

Let's just say the dream was very vivid.

And very dirty.

When I was within a foot of him, his arms moved out, reaching for my shoulders, and sinking into them- wrenching a half-groan, half-whimper out of my mouth. At that, the humor dropped from his lips and his eyes got intense.

“Why are you massaging my shoulders?” I asked, having to lick my dry lips.

“Why do you have to question everything?” he countered, his hands simultaneously rubbing and pulling me closer, closing the gap between our bodies until there was just a breath of air separating us, giving his hands more free reign of my back. I genuinely had to concentrate to prevent myself from leaning against him. Like... it was a problem. “After I left here last night, I went to see a friend of mine.”

“You... left me!” I exploded, wrenching away from him, eyes bulging, as the heat spread across my body. He left me. Trapped in a train car. That was locked from the outside. Leaving me completely defenseless. Anyone could have wandered into the obviously abandoned building. Anyone could have found me and done... whatever the hell they wanted to do with me. While he was off gallivanting with his freaking buddies.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” he grumbled, looking upward, half-rolling his eyes. “Here we go...”

“Yeah... here we go. What is wrong with you? Anyone could have come in here, seen me all defenseless and raped and killed me!”

“Five seconds of listening to that mouth and they'd lose interest in the task, trust me.”

The... task?

Meaning... raping me or killing me?

Either way, it was kind of insulting.

“I hate you,” I said. Childish, I know. But he brought that out of me. What fun was it to argue with someone when all they did was answer in a perfectly normal, unaffected tone? It did nothing but further enrage me.

“That's unfortunate because you're about to be working with me.”

My mouth had opened to say something, then clamped shut as soon as his sentence ended, hanging in the air.

“I think I misheard you,” I said after a minute.

“Heard me just fine. You and me... we are going to find a way out of this mess.”

This... mess?

Meaning... me being killed (or killing myself) because of Lex Keith?

“Why?”

Breaker let out a long breath, leveling his eyes with mine. “Lex took someone who means somethin' to me. He did this because he wanted me to get you and he damn well knew I don't extend my... services to women.”

“Really?” I found myself asking, surprised.

“Yeah, doll, really. If your name didn't sound like a man, we wouldn't be standing here right now.”

I believed him.

“Who does he have?” I found myself asking.

Without even a hesitation, “My brother.”

“Your brother?” I asked, my voice a small whisper.

I knew nothing of siblings. Hell, I knew nothing of friends. But I could imagine. I could imagine that bond. I could imagine the kind of gut-twisting horror you would have inside when you realized someone you loved was at the hands of Lex Keith.

No wonder he was willing to go through with the deal even though he didn't deal in women.

I looked back up, knowing there was a small piece of my heart in my eyes. “What do you need from me?”

“I need to know what you have on him,” he answered immediately.

I nodded, reaching up toward the collar of the sweatshirt and reaching in, grabbing the chain I had worn around my neck for so long that I barely even realized it was there anymore. I slipped it over my head, holding it out and watching as Breaker's big, scarred hand took it.

“A key?” he asked.

“Locker key,” I answered, nodding. “To that gym on Willow.”

At this, his brow went up. “The gym on Willow?” he repeated, a smile starting to tug at his lips. “The gym owned by the Mallick's?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding.

There weren't many organizations that refused to kowtow to Lex's demands. So far, from what I could tell, the only ones who didn't line his pockets were the Henchmen MC, Lyon the cocaine king, the people of the survivalist camp called Hailstorm, and the Mallick family- a group of notorious loan sharks who didn't seem to have any alliance whatsoever to any of the other crime organizations.

I could have hid my information with the Henchmen. But, to be honest, they scared the hell out of me. And I knew Richard Lyon would have forced me into some kind of trade. And I didn't want to owe anyone.

And Hailstorm, well, survivalists were weird. I half worried I'd walk in there to make a deal and never walk out because they like... brainwashed me or something.

So, in the end, the Mallicks were the safest bet. I went to the gym, asked for Shane, and asked if he could give me access to a private locker. After about ten minutes of his shameless brand of suggestive flirting, he finally agreed to let me use a locker in the staff room in back for fifty bucks a month.

It was safe even if it was a little steep... so I agreed.

“You're smarter than I was giving you credit for,” he said, slipping the chain into his pocket.

“Gee thanks,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You'll have to bring me.”

“Why?”

“Because Shane and I have an arrangement.”

“You,” he said, his head ducking, making it clear he wasn't quite buying it, “have a deal with Shane fuckin' Mallick?”

I felt my shoulders push backward. Was this another 'because I have tits' thing? Just because I was a chick meant I couldn't have strong connections with some of the local bad guys?

“Does this deal involve you fuckin' him?”

I jerked back like he had slapped me. Surprised, sure. Offended? Definitely.

“Excuse me?”

“You met him. You know what he's like.”

“So the only way he would help me would be by extorting sex from me?” I asked, my voice getting snippy. “Just because you're a pig doesn't mean everyone else is.” There was that weird crinkling by his eyes again and I felt myself suck in a deep, steadying breath, before just... exploding, “Don't you dare eye-smile at me!”

At this, I got a surprised chuckle. “Eye-smile?”

“Yes, eye-smile. Like when your eyes go all crinkly but your lips don't turn up.”

“Been paying a lot of attention to me, huh, doll?”