Chapter 1
SIENNA pov~
The blazing California sun was burning brightly over the dusty town of Obsidian Ridge. Everyone was doing their best to avoid the afternoon heat, and I was no exception. Underneath the tiny roof of my repair garage, I was leaning against a dismantled custom motorcycle.
I let out a heavy sigh, feeling the midday heat already making me sweat through my grey work tank top. I reached into my back pocket to pull out a clean grease rag and wiped a smear of dark oil from my jaw as I ran a hand through my messy blonde hair. My blue eyes scanned the empty driveway while my father's new family was arriving at the house next door.
The Iron Reapers. A brotherhood of speed, leather, rebellion, and loyalty. Gage Cross was the top enforcer who led them, and they basically ruled this little town. He was also the dangerous stranger I had shared one wild night with four years ago, and as of an hour ago, he was officially my new stepbrother.
The roar of custom engines suddenly broke the heavy silence.
I straightened up, my fingers tightening around an iron socket wrench. Three trucks and twelve motorcycles flying the dirty denim patches of the Satan’s Jacks MC screamed into my gravel driveway. They blocked the exits completely. At the front of the pack was Creed Vance, a ruthless older man with a jagged scar across his throat. He held a heavy iron pipe in his hand.
"Thomas!" Creed hollered, his heavy boots crunching on the gravel as he crossed my shop threshold. His eyes didn't look at me. They went straight to my father, who was shaking near the office door. "You thought you could hide inside a Reaper compound? You owe my tables twenty grand, old man. Pay up, or I start breaking bones."
My father stepped backward, his face turning completely pale. He reached out and grabbed his new wife, Vera, using Gage’s mother like a shield. "I don't have the cash, Creed. But my new family can cover it."
"The Reapers don't pay civilian debts," a deep voice growled from the shadows.
Gage Cross stepped into the bright light of the bay doors. His massive body blocked the sun. He wore his black leather club cut, and his face was a hard mask of stone. He looked right at Creed, his split knuckles clenching into fists. "You brought a rival club to our border, Thomas. You're lucky my father hasn't taken your head for this."
Creed let out a sharp, nasty laugh. He pulled a piece of crumpled paper from his vest pocket and threw it onto the concrete floor between them.
"The old man didn't just lose cash, Vandal," Creed hissed, pointing his iron pipe at the paper. "He signed the legal deed of this garage over to the Jacks to save his own throat three nights ago. Since the shop belongs to me now, everything inside these walls is mine. The tools, the steel... and the girl."
He tilted the pipe upward, aiming the cold metal directly at my face.
I didn't hide behind the bikes. I stepped forward, my work boots slamming against the floorboards as I raised my heavy wrench. "My father doesn't own a single nail in this garage, you dirty bastard. I do. Get your boots off my concrete before I take your tires apart while you're still riding them."
Creed’s eyes went dark with appreciation. "I like a wild one. Consider her the interest on the debt, Thomas. She'll look real nice on the back of my chopper."
He took a heavy step toward me. Behind him, his prospects shifted their weight, their hands dropping toward their weapons.
Before I could swing my wrench, Gage's massive, tattooed hand shot out.
His fingers wrapped around my waist with a violent yank, pulling my spine flat against his heavy chest. The impact knocked the breath right out of my lungs. His large thumb pressed hard into my hip, pinning me against his torso with terrifying, absolute strength.
"She doesn't go anywhere, Creed," Gage growled, his voice dropping into a dark, rough register that made the loud engines outside seem quiet. "The paper is trash. You can't touch her, and you can't touch a single tool in this shop."
Creed stopped dead. His eyes narrowed. "The hell I can't. The signature is legal."
"MC Bylaw Four," Gage said, baring his teeth in a dangerous smile as he held me tighter against his ribs. "The Property Claim. She’s been sleeping in my bed for a week. She’s my claimed Old Lady in training. Under our treaty, her family debts are club debts now. You touch her, and you start a war with every patched Reaper from here to the border."
The silence in the garage was so heavy I could hear the hot oil dripping from the bikes outside.
My mouth parted in absolute shock. My heart was thumping so fast I was sure Gage could feel it through his vest. The lie was huge and totally insane. Our parents were standing right there, staring at us with wide eyes. Thomas and Vera believed we were just step-siblings who barely knew each other, but Gage was branding me as his personal property in front of a rival gang to save my life.
Creed stared at us, his knuckles turning white around his iron pipe as he looked at Gage’s hand clamped hard against my hip. He looked at my face, searching for a single sign of weakness. I didn't give him one. I kept my chin high and my wrench raised, letting the rival leader believe the lie.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Vandal," Creed whispered, his voice shaking with pure rage as he began to back away toward his bike. "I'll talk to your President at the table tonight. But if you're lying to protect your sister's skin... I'll burn this garage to ash with both of you inside it."
