His hard body is pressed against my back and I can't look away from our reflection in the mirror. One of his hands leaves my breast and vanishes, unseen but not unfelt. I never thought I'd bury my brother. Brian Hatcher has a lot of nerve, I thought I'd never see "his" face again. He left the police force to join the Iron Tornadoes, the very gang my brother was investigating. I hate him. I should hate him. I want to hate him. He has turned his back on everything he used to stand for. Yet I want him, even though he's turned into a stone cold biker.