“Or the part where you informed me this man has a hand in drugs, guns, human trafficking, and is part of some biker gang who wants me dead?
“I did hear you, and I appreciate the fact that as far as criminals go, it doesn't get much worse, right?
"I also heard the part about whatever war your gang and his gang have going on, which only reinforces my decision to be anywhere else but here.”
“Perdition isn't a gang. It's a club, and yes, there is a difference,” Top informed her firmly, giving Dillon what the women affectionately referred to as, ‘the fish eye.’ The wives of Perdition knew that look meant Top was skimming the edge of his temper, but Dillon had no idea.
“Everyone under this roof is a licensed private detective, and aside from some minor breaking and entering, nothing about our operation is illegal, unlike the gang Ghost works with.
"The Leviathans are on the actual terror watch list and are being investigated by every three letter agency you can think of.
“Until we figure out why Ghost sent you here, why he picked you to deliver his message—knowing full well we'd take you in and protect you like one of our own—I highly suggest you take a few minutes to reconsider. You leave this compound, you're a dead woman. Ghost made that clear, and he may be a psycho, but he ain't a liar.”
Dillon sat there with a frown on her face, silent for the longest time.
“You don't know me at all, but you're willing to stick your neck out for me?”
Top spread his hands wide. “The Leviathans want you dead, so that means I have an invested interest in keeping you alive, just to spite those bastards. I know you want to get gone, but why don't you stick around long enough to get that beast of yours to the vet to make sure whatever Ghost gave her doesn't fuck her up.”
CHAPTER THREE
It softened Dillon when it shouldn't have that Top's concern extended to her dog. It made her like the silver-haired biker. Maybe even respect him a little bit. Top sat right in front of her and made the call to a mobile vet, who sounded like his buddy, and got the guy to agree to come into the city to give Elka a thorough once over.
“You're about the same size as Roar's woman,” Top told her when he hung up. “She won't mind if you borrow a shirt. You hungry? I can send one of the boys to get you anything you want.”
Dillon was starving, but there was no way she'd be accepting food from these people.
“Elka and I don't eat anything I didn't make myself.”
Top's bushy black and silver eyebrows hiked up.
“Ever?”
“Ever.” Elka tilted her head at the mention of food, and Dillon felt an undeniable wave of gratitude that Ghost chose to simply sedate Elka instead of killing her.
Dillon smoothed her hands over Elka's ears, looking into her big amber eyes. “Though, I guess even being prepared and careful doesn't always ensure it's safe.”
Whatever Top would have said in response was lost as the door exploded open like a giant had kicked it in, and a tornado came whirling through, shouting at the top of his lungs,
“Papa, I'm weddy to wide!”
Dillon was so surprised she nearly jumped out of her skin, but Top sat there calmly, struggling to keep a stern expression on his face as the tow-headed boy, dressed in a kid-sized leather jacket, jeans, and a pair of beat up baby biker boots, threw himself into Top's lap.
Dillon saw the adoration shining in Top's clear blue eyes despite the hardass edge to his voice.
“Boy, you know when that door is closed, it means you stay out.”
The kid was about to reply when a woman's voice echoed throughout what felt like the entire compound.
“Lyon Taggart Morningstar, you get back here RIGHT NOW!”
“Aw sheeit,” the kid declared, sliding off Top's lap like an eel to crawl under the table.He made it to cover just as a gorgeous red-head carrying a little red-headed toddler wearing a big polka-dot bow, perched on her hip marched through the open door.
The woman had on a nearly indecent pair of cut off shorts, her miles of tanned legs on display, and a black shirt that said Never Ever Land surrounded in vibrant flowers.
Her wild red hair was barely restrained in a braid that fell to the hem of her cut-offs, and even across the room, Dillon saw fire in her bright green eyes.
The little girl was adorable wearing nothing but a diaper and a black shirt that proclaimed her Property of Perdition, burbling a sweet sound as she gave Top a gummy grin and reached her chubby arms out for the older man.
“Top, you seen the ankle-biter?”
Top covertly pointed at the table and shot the woman a wink. “Nope, he bust loose from his car seat again?”
Glaring with a mother's fury at her son's hiding place, the woman huffed out a breath and handed the little girl over when Top held his hands out for her.
“He unbuckled himself before I even put the car in park and climbed out the damn window! I swear to god, there is no such thing as a 'child-proof' lock. Where’s my other problem child?”
Top cooed at the baby girl who wrapped her arms around his neck, cuddling against him like the old man was her favorite teddy.
“Down in the basement with the rest of the boys.”
The red head scowled darkly. “Please tell me Nasa isn't putting on another one of his kinky knot tying classes.”
“Better not be,” Top chuckled. “Ever, this is Dillon. She had a run-in with Ghost.”
Dillon watched the horror twist the other woman's face into a worried mask.
“Oh, fuck. Are you okay?” Ever seemed genuinely concerned, fearful even.
Dillon managed a weak smile and nodded, still clutching at Elka in hopes of avoiding a panic attack. “I'll live.”
“She needs a shirt,” Top cut in. “You got any lying
