Crimson Steel

Chapter Two - The Devil’s Bargain

The Crimson Steel clubhouse always reeked of sweat, oil, and burnt rubber, even when the bikes weren’t running. It wasn’t a place Avery visited often—on purpose. She’d been there maybe twice in her life, both times to drop something off for her dad. Both times, she’d made sure to keep her eyes down and her mouth shut.

But this time, Bear Mercer had sent for her.

She stepped inside, every inch of her screaming to walk back out. Loud laughter echoed from the back, the clink of bottles, the thump of boots on concrete. The place was chaos and testosterone wrapped in bloodstained leather.

Bear was seated at the long table near the bar, hunched over a stack of papers with a glass of something dark in his hand. His massive frame filled the chair, and the moment Avery entered, his eyes lifted—sharp, calculating, too damn aware.

“Well, look who finally shows her face,” he said with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Avery stayed still. She knew better than to show nerves here.

“You asked for me,” she said evenly.

“I did,” he nodded, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

She hesitated just a second too long.

“I don’t bite,” Bear added. “Not unless someone gives me a reason.”

She sat.

“You’ve got quite the future ahead of you,” Bear said, flipping through a folder that had her name written on the tab. “Full scholarship material. Top of your class. Recommendation letters from senators and judges. That’s impressive, sweetheart.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Did you go through my file?”

He chuckled. “I have people. People who know how to get what I need.”

“What do you need, Bear?”

He leaned forward now, the smile dropping. “I need someone like you. When you become a lawyer—and you will—I need someone in the system. Someone who understands both sides of the line. Someone who can help keep this club clean when things get messy.”

She stared at him. “You want me to be your lawyer.”

“I want you to be our lawyer,” he said. “You’re smart. Sharp. You’ve got a spine most grown men don’t. I’m not asking you to throw your life away—I’m offering you a future with protection, loyalty, and resources. Hell, I’ll pay your entire college tuition up front. All of it. You’ll walk out debt-free and connected.”

Avery’s pulse was steady, but her stomach twisted. “And in return?”

“You come back when it counts. Help the club. Make sure charges disappear. Keep our boys out of prison. Use that pretty little brain for something real.”

She didn’t flinch, but her voice came out colder than she meant.

“You think helping criminals is real work?”

Bear’s eyes darkened, just slightly. “I think protecting family is real work. And you’re family, like it or not.”

“I’m not,” she said. “I never was. My father—”

“—was one of my most loyal men,” Bear cut in, his voice hardening. “And you’re his legacy. That makes you one of us. And I’m offering you the chance to build something powerful. Use your brains to protect your own.”

Avery stood slowly. “I’m going to college. I’m going to help people who need it. Not cover up whatever the hell you and your ‘boys’ get into.”

Bear’s expression turned cold. Flat. “So that’s a no?”

“That’s a hell no.”

He nodded once, then stood too—towering over her.

“You walk out that door, Rourke, you walk out alone,” he said quietly. “The club doesn’t protect people who turn their backs on us. Not even you. Not even for your daddy’s sake.”

She met his gaze, her voice calm but razor-sharp.

“I don’t need your protection.”

And then she walked.

Not fast. Not scared.

But she felt every single pair of eyes on her as she passed through the clubhouse. Eyes that used to look away out of respect for her father.

Now?

Now they were just watching to see what would happen when she no longer had a shield.

Avery stepped out of the clubhouse into the biting wind, her breath catching in her throat. The sun was low, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. Her spine was straight, chin high, but her hands trembled where they gripped the strap of her bag.

She was halfway to her car when she heard his voice.

“Avery.”

She stopped, cursing herself for doing so, then turned. Colt stood near the garage, wiping his hands on a rag, grease smudging the edge of his jaw. He must’ve been working on one of the bikes, but now his eyes were locked on her, unreadable.

“What?” she asked, more tired than hostile.

He took a step toward her, slow and cautious like he knew she was holding something fragile and close.

“You okay?”

She laughed, bitter and humorless. “Do I look okay?”

He didn’t answer. Just kept watching her like he was trying to read between the lines.

She sighed. “Your father just tried to buy me.”

His jaw tightened. “How?”

“He offered to pay for college. Every cent.” She paused. “In exchange for my loyalty. For me to become the club’s personal legal cleanup crew.”

Colt looked down for a second, then back at her. “What did you say?”

She didn’t hesitate. “I told him to go to hell.”

For a heartbeat, he didn’t react. Then something flickered across his face. Pride. Something close to admiration. She couldn’t be sure.

“Damn,” he said under his breath. “You really told him no?”

“I told him hell no.”

Colt exhaled, low and long. “You don’t know what you just did.”

“I know exactly what I did.” She squared her shoulders. “I told a man I don’t respect that I won’t be his pawn.”

He looked away, jaw clenched tight. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter.

“No one says no to my dad. Not for free. Not people born into this life. They should know better.”

Avery stepped closer, something sharp flashing in her eyes. “That’s the thing, Colt. I do know better. And I still said it.”

That impressed him more than he’d admit. She was the only person he’d ever seen go up against Bear Mercer without flinching. He didn’t know whether he wanted to shake her or kiss her for it.

But admiration didn’t erase consequences. And she’d just painted a target on her back.

“You should watch yourself,” he said, softer now. “You think you're out, but you never really are. Not when you're born into it.”

“I never asked to be part of it.”

He stepped even closer, their breath mingling in the cold air.

“No one does.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, the noise of the club fading behind them. Just the two of them and the distance they both hated but couldn’t close.

Then Avery turned, opened her car door, and paused.

“You tell your father I don’t need his money.”

She looked back at him, her voice steady.

“And if he comes after me… I’ll show him exactly what I am capable of.”

Then she slid into her car and pulled away, tires crunching on gravel as Colt watched her go, a mix of fear and respect burning in his chest.

She was fire.

And she’d just lit a fuse.

The sun had dipped fully below the trees by the time Colt walked back into the clubhouse, boots echoing heavy against the concrete. The laughter was louder now, the air thick with smoke and liquor, but none of it touched him.

He found Bear in his office, door half-closed, the warm amber glow of the desk lamp throwing long shadows across his face. He was pouring another drink—probably his third or fourth—and flipping through some receipts like they mattered.

“You tried to buy her.”

Colt didn’t knock. Didn’t ask. He just said it, low and sharp.

Bear didn’t look up. “Don’t start with me, boy.”

“I’m not starting,” Colt said, stepping inside. “I’m finishing.”

Now Bear looked up, gaze steady. “You raising your voice to me over a girl?”

Colt’s jaw clenched. “She’s not just a girl. And you knew that.”

Bear leaned back in his chair, swirling the glass in his hand. “Damn right I did. That’s why I made the offer.”

Colt stared at him, disgust creeping in. “She said no. Flat out. You backed her into a corner.”

“And?”

“She’s out now. You pushed her out. She’s not coming back.”

Bear chuckled. Actually laughed. “They always say that. They all leave thinking they’re free. But they come back. The world out there?” He pointed toward the window. “It eats people like her alive. She’ll need us again. One day. They all do.”

Colt stepped forward, voice low and firm. “She’s not like them.”

Bear’s eyes sharpened. “No, she’s smarter. Which means when the time comes, she’ll make the right choice.”

Colt opened his mouth, but Bear cut him off with a raised hand.

“And you,” he said, voice turning cold, “you need to stop getting emotional about this.”

Colt’s nostrils flared. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” Bear snapped. “You’ve been soft for her since you were fifteen. Thinking no one noticed? You watch her like she’s made of gold, and she barely looks at you like you exist.”

That hit harder than it should’ve. Colt said nothing.

Bear stood now, slowly, stepping around the desk until they were eye to eye.

“You’re going to take over this club soon. And when that happens, showing emotion—especially over a girl who doesn’t want the patch—is weakness. And weakness?” His voice dropped. “Will be your downfall.”

Colt’s throat was dry. But he met his father’s stare, unmoving.

“She stood up to you,” he said. “And you still think she’ll crawl back.”

Bear’s smile was razor-thin. “Not crawl. Walk. Head high. Just like her father. Took me a few years to break him, too.”

Colt stiffened. That wasn’t something Bear had ever admitted out loud. And now he said it like it was nothing. Like breaking a man was business.

“You should be proud,” Bear said, turning his back. “You don’t need a girl like that. You need a queen who’ll stand next to you without question. Not one who walks out the first time things get hard.”

Colt didn’t respond. He just turned and walked out of the office, heart pounding in a way he didn’t know what to do with.

He wanted to believe Bear was wrong.

But in this world?

No one said no and walked away clean.

Not even Avery Rourke.

The Rourke house sat just outside the edge of town, tucked behind a rusted fence and a yard full of tools her father never got around to organizing. It wasn’t much, but it was home. Or had been, until today.

Avery stepped inside quietly, the door creaking shut behind her. The living room lights were on. The familiar smell of coffee and motor oil clung to the air like a second skin.

Her father was in his chair, boots kicked up, flipping through a worn-out copy of The Old Man and the Sea. He looked up when she entered, and his expression shifted the moment he saw her face.

“What happened?” he asked, already rising.

She dropped her bag on the table and crossed her arms.

“Your president offered to pay for my college.”

Danny froze. “Bear?”

She nodded. “In exchange for me coming back after law school… to serve the club.”

His face was pale now, jaw tight. “What did you say?”

“I told him no,” she said, sharper than she meant to. “I told him hell no.”

Danny didn’t speak for a long moment. He just lowered himself back into the chair like the weight of her words had taken something out of him.

“You don’t understand what that means,” he said softly.

“Yes,” she shot back. “I do.”

He looked up, eyes suddenly tired. “No, baby, you don’t. Not really. You think walking away makes you free, but Bear doesn’t let go of people he sees value in. And you? You’re gold to him. You’ve got a mind most people in this club don’t even know how to fear properly yet.”

Avery clenched her fists. “Then why did you let him near me? Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I tried,” Danny said. “My whole life, I’ve tried to keep you away from all this. You think I kept you out of the clubhouse because I was ashamed? No. I did it because I knew what Bear would do the second he saw what you could become. He doesn’t build people up, Avery. He puts them in cages and tells them it’s loyalty.”

She sank down onto the edge of the couch, the weight of it all settling in.

“I can’t go back,” she whispered. “I won’t.”

He looked at her with more pride than pain. “Then don’t. But you have to understand something, kid… you’re on your own now.”

She swallowed hard.

“I know.”

Danny ran a hand through his hair, voice low. “You won’t be safe here. Not after this. Not with the club watching.”

“So I’ll leave sooner.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

“I was going to wait until the end of summer to move, let things settle,” she said. “But I’m leaving next week. I’ll stay with a friend near campus. I’ll figure it out.”

He looked at her like he wanted to stop her—like the protective instinct in him was screaming to chain the world outside—but he didn’t.

Because he knew.

She was already gone.

Avery stood and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you… for trying.”

He nodded, eyes glassy. “Just promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“When you get out there, and it gets hard—don’t come running back. Not unless you have to. And even then… think twice.”

She nodded.

“I won’t come back,” she said. “Not unless it’s on my terms.”