“I thought you were in a hurry to get back to the clubhouse.”

I gripped the steering wheel even tighter. “Fuck, Tatum, do you ever stop questioning shit?” I glanced at her as I asked this and caught the flattening of her lips as she stared at me.

A moment passed, and then she rattled off an address before adding, “Thank you.”

I gave a quick nod and steered the car in the direction of her cousin’s place.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up outside a tattoo parlour. I cut the engine and turned to her again. “She works here?”

Reaching for the door handle, she shook her head. “No, she owns it.”

As I followed her inside, I wondered who I was about to meet. If her cousin was anything like Tatum, I’d have my hands full.

 

* * *

 

“Monroe, meet Nitro, the pain-in-my-ass biker who likes to boss me around,” Tatum said, gesturing towards me before adding, “Nitro, meet Monroe Lee, my cousin.”

Monroe eyed me warily before asking Tatum, “This is the biker who saved you?”

Tatum nodded.

The wary glint in Monroe’s eyes didn’t leave, and resentment crept into her voice as she said to me, “Why can’t you leave her alone? She’s done nothing to you or your club.”

Before I could reply, Tatum held her hand up. “It’s okay, Roe, he’s actually trying to keep me alive. Silver Hell found out I was there the other night.” Her eyes met mine. “But he does like to issue orders left, right and centre, which is annoying as hell.”

Her cousin didn’t back down and I saw Tatum’s feistiness in her. They looked nothing alike—Monroe had voluptuous curves and huge tits whereas Tatum’s curves were much smaller, and Monroe had flaming red hair in contrast to Tatum’s blonde—but their inner fight seemed the same.

Monroe squared her shoulders and challenged me. “So you’ll keep her alive and then let her out of your sights?”

“I don’t make promises to anyone.”

“Figures,” she muttered, her glare not letting up. I had to respect a woman who stood her ground.

“Why haven’t you been returning my calls and texts this morning?” Tatum asked, diverting her cousin’s attention. “I’ve been worried about you.”

Something passed between the two women and Monroe’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I forgot to charge my mobile and I paid the shop’s phone bill late, so they cut me off.”

Tatum let out a long breath and her body visibly relaxed a little. “Thank God.”

Monroe touched her on the arm. “Posey’s okay. She’s out the back with Fox, giving him a haircut.”

Tatum frowned. “Huh?”

“Yeah, who knew your girl was a hairdresser as well as a stripper? We’ve been quiet this morning and got to chatting, and when he found this out, he asked her to cut his hair.” Her gaze zeroed in on Tatum’s face. “How are you? That eye still looks nasty.”

“I’m sore, but I’m okay.”

“That eye’s gonna take a little while to heal and so are her ribs,” I said.

Monroe’s attention swung swiftly back to me. “If it wasn’t for bloody bikers, she wouldn’t be in this mess,” she snapped.

I stepped forward and got in her face. “Careful,” I warned. “Far as I can see, Tatum got herself into that mess.”

Monroe’s eyes flashed with venom and she shoved her face closer to mine, which intrigued me. These Lee women seemed to have no fear. “Because a biker murdered her brother!”

Tatum slid between us, her back to me, and forced Monroe away. “Let it go, Roe. Nitro hated that man as much as I did.”

“I don’t get it, Tatum. Yesterday you wanted nothing to do with Storm and now you’re defending him.”

“A lot can happen in a day. I’ll fill you in later, okay?”

Monroe sent one last glare my way before agreeing to what Tatum had asked. It was obvious to us all, though, that the last thing she wanted to do was let it go.

“Tatum,” a petite blonde woman said as she entered the parlour from a back room. She walked with hesitation, her eyes not meeting mine. “Did Dwayne go by the club last night?”

“I haven’t heard anything to say he did,” Tatum replied. “How are you doing?”

Before she could answer, a guy joined us. Tattoos covered almost every inch of skin I could see, and I figured the familiarity between him and Monroe that he worked with her.

Leaning casually against the front counter of the parlour where we stood, he frowned at Tatum. “Who the fuck gave you those bruises, T?”

I folded my arms across my chest and clenched my jaw. This guy may have been familiar with Monroe, but there was something intimate about the way he spoke to and looked at Tatum. Something that irritated the fuck out of me.

“No one important, Fox, and he won’t ever do it again,” Tatum said. The fact she seemed closed off to discussing it with him caused the tension in my shoulders to ease a little.

“Yeah, well if he does come back, you call me, okay? I’ll take care of him for you, babe.”

“He won’t be back,” I grunted, unfolding my arms. “And I’ve got Tatum under control.”

Her gaze swung to meet mine and she raised her brows. “You’ve got me under control?”

“I’ve got the situation under control.” I didn’t let her gaze go.

“Yeah, that’s better,” she said, irritation still clear in her tone.

We stood watching each other for a few moments, a new tension settling between us. It was as if everyone else in the room faded away leaving only the two of us. Again, I found myself facing an inner battle of being both frustrated with her and turned on, all at the same time. This was an unfamiliar feeling and it unsettled me. I usually kept sex separate to every other part of my life. The women I fucked weren’t women I associated with, and I never formed a relationship with any of them. Brittany was the exception to that and my association with her hadn’t turned out well.

Monroe’s voice cut through my awareness. “No one controls Tatum, Nitro.”

Without taking my eyes off Tatum, I said, “I’m getting that impression.”

Fox pushed off from the counter. As he moved past Tatum, he placed his hand on her stomach and slid it across her body as he said, “I’ve missed you, T. You should call me.”