“You uppity bitch. My birthday’s coming up. Guess what I’m going to ask for my birthday?” he whispered in her ear. His breath reeked of alcohol. Every inch of him was repulsive.

She never dealt well with threats. Despair coiled in her insides. Everyone knew Skull had one weakness. Skull could never say no to his younger brother. Carl had gotten in trouble with the law one too many times, but Skull always bailed him out. If Carl asked, Skull would give her away without a second thought. To assholes like Skull and Carl, Destiny ceased to be a living and breathing human being. She’d devolved into a toy.

Something broke inside her then. Destiny birthed a fierce little animal since her mother died, since the day she started working in this hell on earth. Rage burned away her fear, her despair until she had nothing left.

Destiny rammed her elbow right into his balls. Carl howled. She streaked past him.

“What have I done?” she whispered.

“You’ll pay for that, you bitch!” Carl yelled.

Destiny was still in her provocative costume. Skull’s men were everywhere. The Pink Canary reminded her of a tightly guarded maximum-security prison. She’d never escape this place. A quick looked behind her showed Carl bracing himself against the wall, nostrils flaring, his gaze unfriendly.

Any second now and he’d come after her again. This time, he wouldn’t bother playing games.

Destiny didn’t see where she was going. She bumped into a wall of warm and solid muscle. Heart in her throat, she whipped her head and looked at the man she collided with. It was him. The customer whose steel-gray eyes had devoured her throughout her entire number.

Skull’s special guest.

Destiny couldn’t take her gaze off him either. She’d didn’t understand why her skin burned hot for him, or how he was able to mute the entire world around her. Destiny had never shown interest in a customer before. They were all pigs to her but something about this stranger seemed different.

Destiny didn’t know why she thought that because the man was also wearing a leather jacket with a patch on it. Not the grinning skull of the Skull Riders but that of another MC. MC men were no better than beasts in human skin.

He was massive, titan-size. He must be at least six-foot-six and he practically towered over her. She suddenly felt vulnerable around him. Tiny. There were streaks of gray in his short dark brown hair and short beard.

When he grabbed her shoulders and righted her back on her feet, Destiny felt less threatened by him. A little safe. A laughable thought. Men who walked through the Pink Canary’s doors only wanted one thing.

“You’re safe with me,” the stranger said.

He took off his jacket, revealing hard, corded muscle underneath his plain white shirt. To Destiny’s surprise, he placed his jacket over her cold shoulders. She didn’t understand what was happening. Who was this stranger?