Claimed By My Outlaw Stepbrother

Chapter 10

SIENNA pov~

"I’m not trying to be dramatic, Sienna, but we need to close up and pack our bags right now. Like, five minutes ago."

Leo wasn’t hiding behind any tires this time. He was pacing a fast circle around the flatbed truck, his clipboard clutched to his chest like a shield. He looked totally stressed out, his sneakers squeaking against the concrete as he walked.

"Calm down, Leo," I said, leaning further over the truck's engine block. I was trying to tighten a loose belt with my socket wrench, but my hands were stiff.

To be honest, I couldn't focus at all. My mind was still completely stuck on what had happened upstairs in the bedroom an hour ago. The feeling of Gage’s mouth against mine was still buzzing under my skin, making my heart race every time I thought about it.

"I'm serious," Leo said, stopping by the fender. "Your dad looked completely terrified when he drove off down the side alley. He didn't say a word to me. He just hopped in his truck and tore down the road.

And then I found that."

Leo pointed toward the front bumper of the flatbed.

I let out a long breath, wiping a smear of black grease off my jaw with the back of my arm.

"Leo, if it's just another stray cat hiding by the wheels, I'm going to lock you out."

But when I stepped around the front of the truck, the words died in my throat.

Stuck straight through the thick plastic of the front bumper was a heavy tactical knife. The blade was buried deep into the frame, and jammed right under the handle was a crumpled piece of paper.

There was a smear of fresh blood drying on the page, dripping slowly onto my clean floor.

My heart did a violent flip against my ribs.

"See?" Leo whispered, his voice cracking a little. "Knives and blood, Sienna. We should have gone into accounting. Nobody leaves death notes on a calculator."

I didn't answer him. I walked forward, my work boots crunching on the gravel as I reached out. I grabbed the rough grip of the knife and yanked it out of the bumper with a hard pull.

I unrolled the crumpled note, my eyes narrowing as I read the messy, jagged handwriting.

The President’s seat is leaking, Vandal. The ledger is already on the road. If you want the old man and the girl to make it out of this county alive, tell your father to clear out the northern cargo gate by noon. The gate is already unlocked.

"Sienna?" Leo asked, watching me closely. "What does it say? Are we in trouble?"

"My dad didn't just run away, Leo," I said, my voice dropping to a low whisper. I stuffed the note deep into the pocket of my denim shorts, right where it burned against my hip. "The Jacks have him.

They don't care about his gambling debt anymore. They used him to get the club's shipping ledger, and now the rat inside the compound is opening the gates for them."

Before Leo could say anything else, the loud, familiar roar of a custom motorcycle exploded from the highway.

The sound tore through the morning air, shaking the tin roof right over our heads. Gage’s chopper skidded into the garage bay, throwing a cloud of white dust all over the shop floor.

He kicked the kickstand down with a loud thud before the engine even finished idling.

Gage got off the bike, his massive frame looking completely terrifying in his leather club cut. His gray eyes were dark and wild, full of a panicked, territorial look that I had never seen on his face before.

He marched across the floor, his heavy boots making the concrete feel small as he stepped straight into my space, pinning me right against the truck's bumper.

The smell of his asphalt, cheap tobacco, and fresh soap crowded out the room, making it hard to breathe.

"Where is he?" Gage growled, his voice deep and raspy. He reached out, his large hands grabbing my waist with a tight, possessive pull that dragged my back flat against his chest.

"Get your hands off me, Vandal," I hissed back, my voice shaking just enough for his eyes to go dark as I tilted my chin up to look at him. I held up the bloody knife, tapping the flat side of the steel right against his chest.

"My dad is gone. And if you came here to yell at me about your compound rules, you're too late. Look at the bumper."

Gage’s eyes locked onto the knife in my hand, then flicked down to the empty, torn plastic on the truck fender.

His jaw set into a hard, angry line as the reality of the situation finally hit him.

"They're moving faster than I thought," he muttered, his chest heaving against mine as he reached out and took the bloody paper from my hand to read the note.

Leo crossed his arms, looking completely annoyed.

"Look, Vandal, I don't know anything about your club’s secrets, but if people are going to start stabbing our shop trucks with knives, I want a raise. We don't have insurance for a biker war."

I let out a sharp, breathless laugh, shaking my head. "Leo, do me a favor. Go lock the back alley doors. We need to secure the perimeter before Jax gets here."

"On it," Leo said, grabbing a heavy iron tire tool off the rack. He didn't look scared anymore; he just looked ready to defend the shop.

"But if a Jack tries to come through that door, I’m taking his tires off. I mean it."

The side door clicked shut behind him, leaving the main bay completely quiet.

Gage turned his gray eyes back to me, pulling me an inch closer until there was no space left between us.

The tension between us was wound tight as a spring, the memory of our kiss from this morning burning right under our skin.

"You're not staying here, Sienna," Gage whispered, his mouth dropping low until his rough stubble brushed the hot skin right under my jaw, his breath making my whole body go rigid.

"The Jacks are trying to destroy the club. You're getting on the back of my bike, and you're staying with me until I handle this."

"I told you down at the house, Gage," I hissed back, my fingers locking into the fabric of his black t-shirt, my independence refusing to break under his grip. "I don't leave my tools, and I don't run from my own garage just because you're panicking. If Creed Vance wants a war over a ledger, he can face me on my own concrete."

"You're a real pain in my ass," he murmured, his eyes locking onto my lips with a dark, starved look that turned the air inside the garage completely tight.