Once she had the engine started, she breathed a sigh of relief.

For too many years she hadn’t been behind the wheel. She’d missed it. Even as she drove out of the lot, she watched for anyone shadowing her. She stayed alert as she stopped at a convenience store for a quick shopping spree of necessary items. She constantly scanned the surroundings as she went next to the motel room where Rowdy had last been staying.

It took her a few precious seconds to pick the lock, and when she got the door open, she found a woman there in his bed. Un-freaking-believable.

Rowdy was such a hypocrite.

Furious, Pepper swept into the room, stormed over to the bed and jerked away the covers. The drowsy—naked—brunette stirred, looked at her, and sat up to object. “Who are you?”

“Out,” Pepper said, cutting off the complaints and questions. “Now.”

Confusion kept the woman huddled on the bed. “I’m not going anywhere! I’m waiting for—”

Pepper didn’t want to know what alias Rowdy had used. She withdrew her knife. “Take your clothes,” she enunciated clearly, “and leave.”

“Ohmigod!” With great haste, the woman scampered out of the bed, stepped into a slinky dress and grabbed up her sandals and purse. “You’re insane!”

“I noticed.” Pepper held the door for her until she’d cleared it. Insane? Maybe. Driven with her purpose? Most definitely.

Boy, would she give Rowdy hell. Later.

At least, she hoped she’d be able to.

Please, God, let him be okay.

In less than five minutes she’d cleared out all signs of Rowdy’s presence. Luckily, her brother kept the majority of his meager possessions in the trunk of his car. He had only a change of clothes and toiletries in the motel room, never anything incriminating. But they couldn’t take chances, and so Pepper did as she’d been taught and removed all traces of his stay. She didn’t leave behind a fingerprint or even a hair.

Since the run-down place was a pay-as-you-go establishment, and no way would Rowdy have given his best-known alias, she didn’t have to bother checking him out. She loaded his stuff into the car, got back behind the wheel, and headed to the safe location they’d established long ago.

Rowdy had kept tabs on it, making sure it remained abandoned, secured and well-stocked with supplies.

He expected her to go there, so she knew her brother would die before giving up the address.

In the dark of the night, without security lights and with little moonlight, the big deserted warehouse gave her the creeps. Rodents had surely inhabited it by now, and after so many years, it looked capable of crumbling down around her.

But she unlocked the rolling metal door, drove the car inside and parked in the back behind heavy, broken machinery.

The car would make her transformation easier.

And the transformation would aid in everything else.

* * *

NOT KNOWING WHAT TO EXPECT, Rowdy sat still, silent, in the interrogation room. A bruise under his left eye swelled, but he barely noticed. His shoulders burned from the scuffle in handcuffs before the cops had gotten him into the backseat of that car, but the small aches and pains were the least of his concerns.

He didn’t know what it all meant, but he knew he had reason to worry. For himself, but especially for Pepper.

Out of necessity, the times he saw her were few and far between. To see her tonight, in the middle of a nightmare situation…damn it.

At any moment, he half expected someone to come in and gig him. It’d be easy enough for cops to do—he knew that much firsthand.

Had Pepper gotten away? Please God, don’t  let her—

Logan Stark—no, Riske, Rowdy had heard him tell Pepper—walked in. His unflinching gaze met Rowdy’s. He didn’t exactly gloat, as Rowdy had expected. In fact, the detective looked resigned, dogged and frustrated.

Logan eyed the cuffs on his wrists. They’d left behind ugly bruises, proof of his efforts to escape.

The cops hadn’t given him an opportunity. So far, they hadn’t made a single mistake.

Pulling out a chair, Logan sat opposite him. “You’re not an easy man to find.”

Staring at him with red-hot hatred, Rowdy said nothing.

Logan sat back, looked down at the tabletop. “Pepper didn’t give you up. I—”

“I don’t need you to make excuses for my sister.” He f**king well knew Pepper would never do anything to endanger him, not on purpose anyway. The blame belonged to the detective.

And to himself.

Rowdy had to admit that he’d done a piss-poor job protecting her, and now, because of his incompetence, she might be hurt after all. He should have killed Morton instead of dodging him. He should have razed Checkers so that nothing remained of the club.

He should have done so damned many things....

“She doesn’t deserve your rage.”

Rowdy laughed. “You don’t know shit about what she deserves.” If Logan did, he never would have used her.

Logan sat forward. “I know she deserves better than a life on the run.”

Narrowing his eyes, Rowdy considered him. Anger on Pepper’s behalf? That wasn’t what he’d expected from the detective, but then, what better way for the cop to try to get around him than using his sister?

Again.

“I’ll kill you.”

The whispered words took Logan back in his seat. “Is that what you do now? Murder?” He tossed out a file. “I looked through your history, but I didn’t see that one. Is there a confession you want to make?”