Legend (Cerberus MC)

Kincaid shakes his head. “No, Legend. He was calling to give me a heads-up. He knows we work with her and wanted to let me know what was going on.”

“So you’d stop working with her?”

Kincaid sighs, but there’s a soft lift to one corner of his mouth. “I love how protective you are of her, man, but calm down and listen.”

I take three deep breaths before he continues.

“The paper isn’t out to get her. Matt wasn’t trying to convince me that she’s bad news, and even if he was, I know better. I don’t know if she even knows that it’s up. Matt has notifications set up each time a new post goes up, so it’s only been up for a few minutes.” Kincaid looks down at his phone as he starts scrolling through his contacts. “I need to give her a heads-up because it’s been impossible for people to have things taken down from there. Once it’s up, it tends to stay.”

I reach for his phone, covering the screen with my hand. “I’ll tell her.”

“You know her that well?”

“I know enough to understand that hearing something like this over the phone isn’t the best. I’ll go to her house.”

“Are you going now?” I nod. “Okay, I’ll have Max dig a little deeper so we can find out who posted it. I’m sure there’s a way to persuade whoever it is to take it down.”

“Okay.”

“Please let her know that Cerberus supports her, and that if she needs help with anything, all she has to do is give me a call.”

I nod as he walks away, but part of me wants to correct him, to tell him that if she needs anything, I’ll be the one to tend to those needs.

Acting like a caveman to my boss won’t get me to her house any quicker, so I turn on my heels and walk out of the clubhouse. My bike would be faster, but it’s too damn cold.

I spend the drive over with my fingers tapping on the steering wheel, and although it seems like days before I’m pulling into her driveway behind her car, in reality, it only takes about eight minutes.

Before I can climb out, I get a text from Kincaid.

Kincaid: Max dug as deep as he could, but he didn’t have any luck. The IP address came from the community center and there’s no real way to trace it any further. Images were uploaded from a burner phone directly to the computer, not via an email address. The only thing it tells us is that whoever did it is smart enough to prevent getting caught.

This is not the news I wanted to hear. It’s bad enough that the images are out there, but to know that we can’t help to have them taken down makes me sick to my stomach. I climb the front steps of her porch.

I knock and when she answers, it’s a complete difference from the last time I stood right here. She’s gorgeous in any light, in any clothing, but she looks utterly exhausted. I can’t even appreciate the sight of her in a t-shirt and sleep shorts, legs looking a mile long, because my concern is a hundred percent on what may be keeping her from getting the rest she needs.

“Ethan? What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t called,” I say, letting myself get distracted by something my mind clearly thinks is more important.

“I don’t have your phone number,” she replies, seeming a little agitated.

“I’ll have to remedy that. May I come in?”

She doesn’t immediately step back. “You didn’t want to come in the other night.”

“If I had come in with you the other night, I would’ve fucked you, Faith.”

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she shifts her weight slightly. “And you’re not here to fuck me right now?”

If her tone wasn’t laced with fatigue, I’d offer every single part of me.

“Your mouth saying dirty things turns me on, but no, Faith. I’m here with some concerning news. May I come in?”

Finally, she steps to the side to let me enter. Her living room is as cozy as it was the last time I was here.

“You look tired,” I say as she closes the door.

“I’d make a snide comment right now, but I don’t have the energy,” she mutters as she turns to face me with her arms crossed over her chest.

I do my best to ignore the way it lifts her big tits, but at the end of the day, I’m insanely attracted to this woman.

“Have you seen what’s been posted online? Is that why you’re tired?” The second I ask the question; I realize my mistake. The post has been up twenty minutes tops by this point, and her fatigue is at least days old.

“Posts online? Is someone upset about a lost case?”