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  “How’s it going, Luna?” he drawled with zero sarcasm in his tone and a straight face.

  She mirrored his expression. Shrugged and sat across from him with a casual “It’s good.”

  “Missed me?”

  “I went for a drive and took a wrong turn.”

  Bishop sighed and let the facade drop. He put his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. And muttered.

  Well, you weren’t expecting a warm greeting anyway.

  He looked the same and yet somehow completely transformed. His skin was tanned—tanned—and he’d filled out a little more. He was lanky and tall, so the addition of some muscle made his face even change a little. His hands were a bit torn up—bare-knuckle fighting, she assumed, and his arms were bare, showing scratches and scars among the few tattoos he had there. There was also a line of black stitches close to his collarbone.

  “Someone pulled a knife on me,” he said dismissively when he saw her studying them.

  “What did you do?”

  “Broke his wrist. Kept the knife.” He stared at her intently. “What should I have done?”

  If only she knew the answer to that.

  “Where are the men who took you from Defiance and brought you here?” he asked finally.

  “What are you talking about? I came here alone,” she said.

  “Wait, you weren’t kidnapped?”

  “No.”

  “Forced here as a substitute for someone else?’

  She sighed. “No.”

  He sat forward, elbows on his thighs and stared at her, his intense gaze holding her in place as effectively as if he was touching her. “So you’re here on purpose. Like, you decided, ‘great day for a drive—think I’ll point my car directly in the direction of the gates of hell.’”

  She gave him a point for his sarcastic delivery and volleyed back with her own. “You seem to be fairing well here.”

  “I’m sorry, Luna. Do I not look distressed enough for your purposes?”

  “No, you don’t,” she said, her voice low and angry. “They talk about you like you’re some kind of celebrity here. So I guess you’re having a great time, like it’s Keller’s Club Med or something. Am I ruining your game by showing up?”

  “Actually, you are,” he said through gritted teeth as he got up and moved toward her.

  So yes, this reunion wasn’t nearly as amazing as she’d hoped.

  “So, what about Rebel?” he asked.

  She glanced at the door. “What about him?”

  “You’re here. He’s not. And the sound’s off,” he added, pointed to a switch in the corner that had a red light. “Takes up too much power.”

  “You know why he’s not here. You’ve known it all, from the beginning.”

  He nodded in acknowledgement. “I just can’t decide what you’re getting out of it. Because it’s something.”

  “He’s going to kill me for coming here. That’s all you need to know.”

  “Funny, I think he’ll be happy. He’s a big boy.”

  “It’s not about that.”

  “Yeah, it is. And I like the guy—it’s not his fault you’re pretending to mope after him.”

  “At one point, it wasn’t pretend,” she shot back and swore she heard a low growl as the truth in her statement hit him.

  “You’re scared and he’s safe for you, Luna. He won’t push you, and he’ll keep you sheltered from your own feelings. That’s all it was, all it ever could be and you know that now,” he told her and God, she hated him at the moment—for being right, for knowing her so well. “What were you going to do? Force him to let you be his pretend old lady?”

  “If that’s what it took,” she agreed, knowing full well Rebel never would’ve let that happen.

  “He’s going to have to come out sometime. I really can’t see people giving a fuck since we’re at the end of the world.”

  “The older generation cares,” she pointed out.

  “So he’s doing the right thing and you’re hiding behind him?”

  She glared at him. “Drop it.”

  “The hell I will. The older generation isn’t in charge anymore.”

  “Bishop, you know as well as I do that other MCs aren’t as progressive. No way will this sit well. It’s not going to stay quiet, either.”

  “How has it stayed that way for so long?”

  “It’s worked out.”

  “For you too? You like people thinking you’re pathetically in love with a guy who’s got no interest?”

  * * *

  Luna moved to slap him, but Bishop caught her wrist and held it in place easily. When he let go, she dropped it to her side, but continued to glare at him.

  “You’re a bastard,” she snapped.

  “And yet, you came all this way to see me. Confuses the hell out of you, doesn’t it?” he challenged, because he knew it didn’t. She knew exactly why she was here, what she was looking for.

  Getting her to admit it would be the issue. “You can’t walk around fighting like that,” he told her.

  “Right, that’s only you.”

  “There are rules, Luna.”

  “It’s like a military state,” she said. “Although I guess you’re used to that.”

  “Figured you’d be too,” he told her. “I didn’t mind the military. I got to blow a lot of shit up. Fight. Shoot. And it was all legal.”

  “And you really found all of that fun?”

  “Yes isn’t the right answer, is it?” he asked.

  She huffed. Shook her head, looking so goddamned beautiful it hurt and yeah, she was going to have more trouble here than she’d ever had at Defiance if she didn’t cool her jets.

  “I liked it, because for once, Mathias and I weren’t juvenile delinquents. We felt like we were helping,” he explained.

  She stared at him like she didn’t have a goddamned idea of who he was. Because she didn’t. Not really. She knew his spirit and that pulled her in, but the preconceived shit? That had to go.

  The fact that she’d come here for him? That was a good start. He told her so.

  “I came here for Mathias. For Defiance.”

  “Right.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Mathias misses you.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He stared at her. “So you thought you’d roll right in and they’d just let me leave with you?”

  “I just...I acted.”

  “Yeah, you acted. You knew you wanted out of Defiance. At least temporarily. And you knew you goddamned wanted me. So you got in your truck and you got yourself locked up with me. Two birds with one stone. I might be a little pissed being used by you as your get-out-of-Defiance-free card if I didn’t know you’d been dreaming about fucking me since we met.”

  Her mouth hung open. Her cheeks reddened, because she’d been caught. She didn’t have to admit it. He knew it.

  He walked to her. She backed away and she always did, but this time was way less self-assured. Like she knew she’d pushed this shit right to the edge and was about to nosedive over it.

  She’d be wrapped around him, and naked when she did it.

  He took her hands into his and told her, “I’m not faking this shit, Luna. You need to get honest with yourself and realize you’re not going to be either.”

  * * *

  Who are you kidding? You didn’t come here for a joyride.

  She hadn’t acknowledged, even to herself, how deeply she’d fallen until he held her hands. The fact that he seemed to have fallen just as hard, the fact that she might’ve finally let herself acknowledge what that meant filled her with a flush of power. “You know me, Bishop—I’ll give you that. You don’t have to be an asshole about it, though.”

  “It’s the only
way to get you to admit anything,” he told her.

  God, she hated it that he was right all the time. “I was worried about you.”

  When she let that out, he told her fiercely, “I’ll protect you. The way I always have.”

  Before she could answer him she heard the door opening behind her.

  “I’m not faking this shit,” Bishop reminded her, his words so low they barely registered.

  She turned to see Keller watching them.

  “I see you’ve had a chance to catch up,” he quipped. “I’ll have to bring Luna back to her cell now until we can decide—”

  “She’s with me,” Bishop said, cutting Keller off. “She’s my old lady.”

  Her heart hitched to hear Bishop describe her as such.

  I’m not faking this shit.

  “You’ve never mentioned an old lady,” Keller said calmly.

  “You and I don’t exactly sit down and gossip over my love life.”

  “True,” Keller conceded, then stuck the knife in deeply with, “But you haven’t been exactly faithful.”

  Bishop took it in stride, calmly told him, “No rule I can’t fuck anyone I want.”

  And those words were the real knife to the heart. She glared at Bishop before she could cover and stop herself, and she swore she heard a soft chuckle from Keller, like he was enjoying this shit.

  “I’m trying really hard to understand this situation—so you’re not together?” Keller asked.

  “I’ve asked, she’s refused,” Bishop said casually, putting the whole damned thing on her. She couldn’t believe it. It was like, go ahead, save your own life, Luna.

  And she’d do just that. “I came here for you,” she said firmly, because that, at least, was the complete truth.

  Bishop smiled, with a little bit of that all-knowing smirk she’d sworn she thought she’d missed all these months.

  “I missed him,” she told Keller through gritted teeth.

  “Doesn’t seem like it,” Keller said.

  Before he could get the last syllable out, she’d dragged her hand through the back of Bishop’s hair, yanked his head down and kissed the hell out of him. She took immediate satisfaction in taking Bishop by surprise, shutting him up, shutting Keller’s bullshit down.

  In response, Bishop wrapped his arms around her waist and dragged her up against him so she was off the floor. Heat rushed through her body as she wrapped her legs around him without hesitation, not caring that Keller was watching. Bishop cupped her ass to keep her in place and she tasted him and my god, he tasted better than she’d remembered.

  She could pretend she was doing this for Keller—and she’d stay wrapped in that for as long as she could—despite the fact that she and Bishop both knew it was a lie.

  She’d thought about kissing Bishop every single day since their first kiss, but she’d had Rebel to worry about. Now, she only had herself to worry about, and although Bishop seemed okay, he was definitely harder and more distant. Which was exactly what she’d been afraid of.

  She needed to bring him back. For Mathias. For Defiance.

  For you.

  She buried her face in his neck, murmured, “I did miss you,” so only he could hear.

  “Same here, babe,” Bishop told her roughly.

  Keller cleared his throat and said, “Lovely. You couldn’t fake it that good. I’ll make the arrangements, but you remember the rules, Bishop.”

  Bishop growled a little under his breath but Keller caught it. Smiled.

  “Pissed off’s how I like you,” Keller told him, then left without further provocation.

  Bishop turned his attention back to her and wasted no time kissing her again. He hadn’t let go of her at all, so their faces were still mere inches apart.

  The kiss this time was just as intense, like they had a lifetime to make up for. And for better or worse, she realized they might actually have all the time in the world to spend doing so.

  She ran her fingers through his hair, holding him to her. Recalling all the times she’d dreamed about this, or daydreamed or almost walked up to him and did it in the Defiance MC shop...

  He’d seen right through her from the moment he first came to Defiance. They’d shared a private moment. She’d felt naked under his gaze. His focus on her was one of those things she used as proof that love did really still exist in this shitty world. Because he’d just hit her like a brick wall and she’d had to do a major amount of acting to hide it, and keep up appearances with Rebel.

  Even though Rebel didn’t want that.

  Bishop traced the sleeve of her tattoos on her arm. She shivered at his touch, and he smiled, his expression making her blush.

  Anyone walking in here would know they were lovers. It was what they needed people to believe, yes, but if she were honest with herself, it was what they were. From day one. They might not have made love yet, not physically, but every time Bishop visited her, checked up on her, looked at her, he was inside of her.

  They didn’t have to have sex. They could fake it. But they weren’t going to have to, and that both thrilled and scared her.

  “Why does Keller want you pissed off?” she asked finally, once they broke apart again.

  He sighed as he let her down gently. “I’ve got to fight tonight.”

  “Fight? We’ve got to get out of here.” Even as she said it, she hadn’t fully understood that that’s exactly what her plan had been—swoop in and bring Bishop home. How she could manage that without risking Defiance wasn’t something she cared to think about. Step one was simply rescue Bishop.

  Bishop shook his head sadly. “That’s not happening, Luna.”

  Step one had turned into imprison them both. “Fine. You want to stay here and slowly kill yourself, go for it. I’m not.”

  Although she had both feet on the ground, he hadn’t let go of her, and his grip was ironclad, one she didn’t bother struggling against. “You don’t get it, babe. There’s no leaving now. Not for either of us.”

  “What are you talking about? Now that Keller knows we’re together...”

  “Yeah, now that he knows,” he repeated. “Think he won’t use you against me?”

  That reality sank in, fast enough to make her dizzy. What had she done? She knew as well as anyone who’d grown up in this MC culture exactly what it entailed, what the men who ran it were capable of. Keller was mafia, an entirely different breed but there was no mistaking the similarities, the ruthless violence, the grab for power...the refusal to see women as anything but fucktoys.

  She drew in a shaky breath and straightened her shoulders. “How much longer?”

  “I doubled the money. Keller doubled it. It was the only way he’d let Mathias go, and the only way he’d keep supplying Defiance.”

  “He changed the terms? How can he do that?”

  “It’s cute that shit like that still surprises you, babe.” He smiled without any humor. “We’re here until the debt’s all paid. Eight more months of doing Keller’s bidding.”

  “And I’m just supposed to live here with you.”

  “That’s pretty much the arrangement Keller was talking about. Unless you’d rather spend the time in the jail cell?”

  “Uh, no thanks.”

  “Did you really not tell anyone you were coming?”

  “No.”

  He sighed. “We’re going to talk about that shit more, Luna. What the fuck were you thinking, making this trip alone? Goddamn lucky you’re still alive.” Then he knocked on the window and told the guard who stuck his head in, “Let Keller know I need to make a call.”

  “You know the rules,” the guard told him.

  “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth, knowing Keller would make him pay for all of this at tonight’s fight and beyond. Keller would all
ow the call in order to get more from Bishop, because Keller didn’t believe in something for nothing.

  Then again, neither did Bishop.

  “There are rules about phone calls?” she asked.

  “Yeah. None allowed. Or do you think I was just totally avoiding Defiance all these months.”

  “I thought you were an exception.”

  “There’s nothing like that here.”

  “Seems like you’re on your way to being one,” she said, thinking back to what those women murmured when she’d told the guard who she was here to see.

  He snorted. “You jealous, babe?”

  “Would it matter if I was?”

  “Hell of a lot.” His eyes blazed but before they could continue, the guard was motioning for Bishop to come with him. “Can you stay out of trouble for like ten minutes?”

  “I’ll do my very best,” she told him dryly.

  He rolled his eyes at her and left, muttering to himself.

  Chapter Four

  Luna tasted sweet and hot, like she didn’t belong anywhere on this godforsaken earth. But she was here and all the bitching and moaning in the world about how she’d put herself in danger and shouldn’t be here wouldn’t change that. He’d never been much into that anyway—complaints had been drilled out of him at a very early age and even once he was on safer ground with Mathias’s family, the resolve to make a change instead of complaining had become a part of who he was.

  Maybe he would’ve been like that anyway. He believed in a higher power, believed that it let him make his own mistakes, but also put him on the right path to meet the people he needed to meet.

  Pete—the same guard who’d won a shitload of money betting on Bishop in all his fights—dialed the number and handed Bishop the ringing phone. In the small room with Pete and the windows that looked out onto the entire floor of cells, Bishop waited for Defiance to answer his call.

  It was Hammer who first picked up, and Bishop didn’t waste time. “It’s Bishop. Need Caspar—can’t stay on the line long.”

  Hammer yelled for Caspar, right in his goddamned ear. “You didn’t have to make me deaf, man.”

  “Sorry, Bishop. How are you?”

  “It’s like Club Med over here,” he said, and in a way he wasn’t even lying. “I’m fine, Hammer. Tell Mathias I’m fine, okay?”