Gio (Steel Demons MC #6)

Chapter 3

Harper

O ne day to go. That was my mantra for the past thirty hours as I scrambled around the hotel and casino making sure all the invites had rooms, comped tickets for shows and anything else they needed to show up and put some of their money to good use. Still, it was all part of my job, so I did it with some semblance of a smile on my face.

My feet hurt, my hair needed a deep conditioning, and I was overdue for a full night of sleep. As soon as I got back to Santa Barbara, I planned to sleep for twelve straight hours. Until then, I was running at full speed.

“Harper! Ms. Davis, stop. Please!”

I turned and found Carl running full speed across the casino floor. His face was red and slightly damp, his collared shirt seemed tighter today than yesterday. His light brown eyes were filled with worry. “Carl, where’s the fire?” He’d avoided me yesterday and now he was making a big show of chasing me down.

He held up a finger for me to wait while he sucked buckets full of air down his lungs. Minutes later he was finally able to speak. “Ms. Davis,” he began.

“Harper,” I insisted.

He nodded, “Harper, please tell me that you didn’t hear any part of my conversation with my associate the other day?”

Associate? Yeah, right. I fixed a smile on my face and nodded. “I didn’t hear any part of your conversation with your friend, Carl. I wasn’t close enough to hear anything but voices and that’s why I headed that way, to get help navigating this giant maze.” It was mostly true, but Carl didn’t need to know that I’d heard a hell of a lot more than I should have. Or wanted to.

“I mean it Harper.” He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair. “These guys don’t fuck around. If they think there’s even a chance you heard us, you’re as good as dead.”

Shit, I knew that. Viper wasn’t the first biker I ever met so I knew the deal, I’d just never been on the receiving end of the trouble. “Right. Of course. Well you can assure your buddies that I didn’t hear anything. I’m here to work and as soon as this gala is over, I’ll be gone. Out of state. Never to return.”

“Okay. That’s good. Really good.” He nodded, his gaze and his focus already on something else.

Probably the gun deal he was working on. “Yep. See you around, Carl. Thanks for your help.” I rushed off even though the ballroom was behind me, desperate to get away from Carl and this scary situation.

Hours later I gave the ballroom one final glance and let out a long, satisfied sigh. Everything was perfect. The place looked beautiful and elegant, perfect for the crowd that would fill these seats tomorrow. You got this, Harper.

I totally got this. I felt lighter and happier when I turned out the ballroom lights and closed the door behind me. Tomorrow would be a long day, but it would go off without a hitch because I would make sure it would. The day was over, and tomorrow was the event.

Nothing else to do but relax.

The hotel was packed, and the casino was even more packed, so it was easy to blend in with the crowd. And then I spotted two bikers wearing Blood Reapers MC patches. They scanned the crowd, and I had a feeling that they were looking for me, not Carl.

Shit. Double shit. I scanned the area and ducked down low, which wasn’t all that difficult since in heels I topped out at five-foot-five, blending in with a bachelorette party as they headed to their waiting limo. I skirted along the long line for valet and dipped into the parking garage while my heart raced. Fear spiked but I refused to look over my shoulder, refused to see if danger was quickly approaching.

Sweat dripped down my spine and by the time I was nestled in the safety of my rental car, my body was drenched in it. I started the engine and raced from the parking garage, punching the gas to get back to my rental as quickly as possible. A red light stopped my progress, and it forced me to rethink the intelligence of not staying at a hotel where there were security cameras and guards and people in general.

The truth was that I spent entirely too much time in hotels when we were in the middle of an event, and I wanted my own space. And a kitchen even though I was too tired to cook and too freaked out—right now—to even stop at a drive-thru for a dinner I desperately wanted and needed to eat.

Stupid fucking criminals.

I didn’t care about some stupid gun deal. Guns were everywhere, almost inescapable, but they were forcing me to care, dammit. Back door deals like this were probably how most of the guns in this country were sold and I wasn’t silly enough to think I could do anything to stop it.

I just wanted to go home, put on a successful event and get back home to California. Where I belonged.

My heart rate settled just enough after I arrived at the rental for me to enjoy—mostly—a hot shower. I scrubbed the day, including the stuffy casino air, from my skin and hair, letting the hot water relax my muscles until my shoulders were away from my ears. I didn’t feel one hundred percent, but I felt good as I stepped from the shower and wrapped myself in a big, fluffy green towel.

“Better,” I sighed and wiped away the steam from the mirror. I had just given myself permission to relax, confident the fear was behind me since I’d be back home in forty-eight hours or less, when broken glass sounded on the first floor.

I froze and stared at my reflection a little too long. Another window broke and then the door was kicked in. I stifled a scream by covering my mouth, my heart rate kicked up and I searched for a place to hide. The bathroom had nothing big enough to conceal me, so I stepped in the bedroom and scanned my options. Under the bed was too obvious. So was the walk-in closet. There was a linen closet, but it was all shelves so not an option. Behind me was a small space that used to be a closet, but now it was a storage facility that held old lamps and a chest of drawers with just enough space behind it to hide a small-ish human.

The sound of heavy footfalls grew louder, and I snatched my phone from where it charged beside the bed and tiptoed to the closet, crouching down low and calling the one person in this world I knew wouldn’t let me down.

“Harp, hey squirt, how’s it going?”

I smiled at the sound of my brother’s familiar voice, deep and slightly gravelly. “Cole, hey.” I tried to get my tone light and upbeat, but I failed. Miserably.

“What’s wrong?” All the joy vanished from his voice, and I could almost picture his scowl.

“Someone just broke into my rental house.”

“Okay. Stay calm and call the cops.”

“No,” I whisper-screamed. “You don’t understand. I’m in Vegas.” I sucked in a deep breath and gave him the quickest, quietest rundown I could without drawing attention to my location. “And two of them were following me in the hotel. I think they’re downstairs.”

“Shit. Okay.”

“Can you come? Please?” I hated sounded so weak and small, asking my big brother to come running to my rescue.

“Drop me a pin of your location.”

My hands trembled but I did what he said. “Done.”

“Okay. Stay right where you are and don’t come out until you’re safe.” Cole ended the call, and I was left staring at the phone. His words were oddly cryptic, but I did as he said and stayed crouched behind the chest of drawers in nothing but a towel.