by Jessica Ames
My stomach clenches.
This is what war looks like. Counting survivors, missing those we love, and the men putting themselves in the line of fire to keep the rest of us safe.
I hate it.
“How long do you think we’re going to be here for now?” Sofia asks once the men have left the room. She rakes her fingers through her dark hair to tame it, something she does when she’s stressed. “I have shit to do tomorrow.”
The conversation is cut short as the doors open again and Liv steps inside with Dean at her back, holding their son. Her eyes quickly lock on our little group, which is only missing Clara and Sammy now, and she hurries towards us.
“I heard there was a shooting,” she says in place of hello. “Is anyone hurt?”
“No,” Beth moves to assure her, running a finger over Danny’s downy hair. The kid is so flipping cute. “Everyone’s fine.”
“Where is everyone?” Dean asks, his eyes lingering on Beth for a moment before taking the rest of us in.
“They’re in church,” Beth tells him.
Dean presses his lips to the baby’s head and hands him over to Liv. Once Danny is in her arms, he leans down and kisses his old lady. Yeah, that melts my heart a little. Liv deserves all this good in her life, considering the shit she went through with her ex. I don’t know all the details, but I do know Simon Wilson beat the hell out of her for years until she was able to escape. The women’s shelter she works at, Safe Shelter, helped her get free. She hid in Kingsley for a while before Wilson found her. He battered her, but Dean put her in hiding while he did what he could to find Wilson. That ended with Wilson’s death, I’m sure, although no one has ever admitted what happened to the man.
“I won’t be long,” Dean tells her, and I can see the reluctance in his eyes to leave his family.
Loyalties are always tested in this life—loyalty to Club, to family, to people you love. It never gets easier. I don’t envy Dean having to make these choices, even if this is what he signed up for.
He hesitates for a moment, giving Liv and his son a last lingering look, before finally moving to the common room doors, leaving us alone.
“We had to wait outside because the police had cordoned the building off,” Liv says, taking a seat Jamie pulls out for her. “Where’s Clara?”
“Work, I think,” Paige says.
“Sammy?”
“I’m not sure,” Beth answers, running a finger over Danny’s cheek, while making faces at the baby. “Ghost isn’t here yet though as far as I know, so I assume she’s with him.”
As I glance around the women, I can’t help but wonder if this is what life is going to be.
Fear.
Wondering who will be hurt.
Wondering when the Reapers will come at us.
Wondering who we will lose.
I refuse to live a life in terror. I refuse to let them win this way.
How do we fight an enemy that comes at us from the shadows, though? That I don’t know.
Chapter Three
I lose my job. I’m not surprised, considering the number of absences I’ve had lately, but I am devastated. I loved that place. I had a great set up and I enjoyed being independent.
Jem didn’t lie when he said the Club would sort me out if I got fired, though.
I have a position waiting for me in their construction business once the lockdown is lifted. It’s desperation that forces me to take it. I can’t keep worrying if I still have a job every time I’m pushed into a lockdown scenario. It’s too stressful.
And since this current one shows no sign of abating, it’s probably wise to work for the Club, even if I don’t like it.
It’s been three days since Jem stopped me at the side of the road and demanded my presence.
Three days since the police burst into the clubhouse.
Three days since my independent life was put on hold.
No one has been allowed to leave the building in case something else happens. After being in the line of fire, I understand the need for caution, but everyone is going stir-crazy, myself included. The boys rode out on the second day, leaving us with the prospects, Wade and newly patched in Charlie—why, I don’t know but I can guess. Good old-fashioned retribution against the Reapers for their attack on us. I don’t know what happened while they were gone, but they came back grim-faced and irritable.
Since then we’ve barely seen any of the guys, but I can’t escape everyone else. The problem with having such a big family is in these situations you don’t have much privacy.
The clubhouse has a number of rooms that are available for use, but they went mostly to families in the Club, which means I’m stuck sharing a room with Sofia. She doesn’t know the meaning of the word tidy—or quiet. It’s like bedding down at a teenage girl’s sleepover.
I came downstairs to find a moment’s peace, but all the recreation rooms are full of Sammy’s family. Her grandmother, Jeanne, did invite me to join them, but I declined. I need some alone time, which may be impossible to achieve.
I head down to the common room and find that is just as busy, but at least there are quiet corners of the room I can get lost in for a time.
Glancing around, I see Liv is sitting near the pool table, feeding Danny while Beth and Paige sit with her. There are a couple of prospects lingering by the bar and Weed and Wade are sitting together, deep in conversation.
The girls signal for me to join, but I shake my head and move to a quiet corner of the bar area. As soon as I sink down at the table, I pull a battered paperback out of my bag and start to read it.
I just need to disappear somewhere else for a little while. I’m used to being around people—my family, blood and otherwise, is huge—but I’m not usually subjected to them for so long and without reprieve. These last few lockdowns have been hard to deal with.
I have no idea when we can leave, but I hope they sort this thing out quickly. I need to get back to my own flat and my own space. I haven’t shared a room with Sofia for a long time, and it’s not bringing back happy memories of a misspent youth. I’m remembering all her bad habits—and there are plenty.
I’m skimming through the paperback I brought down, my attention is too diverted by things going on around me. Even so, it’s nice to just have some time without having to converse or be social.
When the common room doors are pushed open, I glance up, wondering if my peace is about to be destroyed when I see Derek enter.
Slade, his vice president, follows on his heels, looking, as usual, like he’s tasting something unpleasant.
Both men are in their fifties, with barely a year between them, but Derek looks older—the weight of leadership, maybe, or the despair of losing the love of his life years ago, I’m not sure, but Slade’s dark hair is only just starting to show signs of greying.
Maybe he dyes it. I’m not about to ask his old lady, Clara, if he does.
I start to lower my gaze back to my book when a familiar face pushes through the door behind Slade—one I haven’t seen since Beth and Logan’s wedding.
Dax, president of the Devil’s Dogs MC.
His kutte is that same beat up leather my brothers wear, but the insignia on his back is different and instead of the word Kingsley, Manchester is written across the bottom rocker.
The Devils are an allied club, but unlike the Saxons they have chapters scattered around the country. We’re closest with their Manchester chapter, although the London one kept an eye on Beth while she was down there. Manchester visit us often and the boys head down their way a lot too. So, Dax being here isn’t that unusual, except for the fact we were targeted only a few days ago by the Reapers.
Is his visit coincidence, or is Derek seeking to shore up the Club’s alliances?
And are the Devils willing to support us when we need them most?
That would see the Devils wade into a war that is not of their making. It’s a big ask, even for friends.
I peer around Dax’s huge frame, exp
ecting him to be with his president. Where Dax goes, so goes Dane. Even though I expect it, it still takes me by surprise when he moves into the room, deep in conversation with my oldest brother.
I ignore Logan, my gaze locking firmly on Dane.
My heart rate starts to pick up speed, and I can’t help but track his movements. He walks with the swagger of a man who knows he owns every room he steps into. It’s sexy as hell.
I think back to the last time I saw him. It was at Beth and Logan’s wedding. We got a little cosy.
Too cosy really.
I woke up the next morning in his bed after receiving the best sex of my life.
I wasn’t very gallant, though.
I left before he woke up. Not my proudest moment, but I wasn’t sure how to deal with a one-night stand with a biker—and not just any biker, but one from another club. We’re allied with the Devils, but that’s irrelevant. Inter-club dating is not allowed. Why? Because alliances change, loyalties shift. It makes things difficult, even dangerous, if you’re straddling the line between two allegiances. It’s a rule I’m well aware of, and have been since I was old enough to date.
I also have no intention of getting into something long-term with a biker. I’ve seen how overbearing those men can be. I don’t want that for myself, although I do feel a hint of the green-eyed monster when I see these men taking care of their women.
After we shagged, I expected Dane to catch up with me during breakfast and either ream me out for leaving the bed without so much as a goodbye, or act as if we did nothing. I wasn’t sure which scenario would be better, but Piper was abducted by men associated with her stepfather, and everything went to hell in the proverbial handbasket.
It was probably for the best. The last thing I need or want is to be caught up with a biker, especially one from another club.
This meant I was able to slip away without encountering Dane again. Did I think I could avoid him forever? Of course not. His club is too entwined with the Lost Saxons, but I figured I’d have some warning he was coming and could make myself scarce.
I’m going to have a hard time avoiding him in a lockdown, though. I’m stuck in the clubhouse with minimal hiding places, but I’m going to do my best to steer well clear.
Even so, I can’t help but take a moment to appreciate the man before I run.
He’s a good five or six inches taller than my five-foot-eight and he’s broad and big everywhere. His arms are like tree trunks, the muscles well-defined. Arms I distinctly remember running my hands over.
I ignore that thought and focus on his shaved head and the thick scruff covering his jaw that is not quite a beard, but is more than a five o’clock shadow. Beneath his kutte and tee, I can see the tattoo peeking out of the back of his neckline, but that’s not the only ink on him. His arms, which are hidden beneath a sweatshirt, are also covered in artwork.
He’s a beautiful, hard man. A very beautiful, very off-limits man.
I track him as he moves towards the bar, taking a moment to appreciate the fit of his black jeans and how they hug his hips. Yeah, Dane is sculpted from perfection.
And with that thought, I start to make my escape.
Beth suddenly slides into the booth, making me jolt in surprise, and stopping my retreat. I snap my eyes from my voyeurism and give her my attention.
“You scared me half to death,” I sign.
She tosses her head. “Sorry. I wasn’t quiet, though, stomping over here. I’ve lost all ability to be light on my feet since your brother knocked me up.”
I snort, but my eyes slide towards Dane, who hasn’t yet noticed me. Thank God. “Like you don’t love being pregnant.”
Her hand goes to her baby bump. “I don’t love puking all times of the day and night. Did you know morning sickness doesn’t happen just in the morning? It’s been a riot, I can tell you. I don’t know how Liv did this, considering how sick she was throughout her pregnancy. I think I’ve threatened to divorce your brother at least twice this week for what he did to me.”
“Wild horses couldn’t drag you away from Logan,” I rebut with a roll of my eyes.
I need to get out of the common room, but I don’t know how to do that without arousing suspicion. Beth isn’t stupid. Maybe Dane won’t notice me hidden away in the corner.
She sighs. “Sadly, it’s true. I’m going to give birth to sasquatch’s baby, and I’ll still love your brother, even if my insides are left a mess. Pathetic, right? Don’t fall in love, Kenzie. No good comes of it.”
My lips quirk as I sign, “Noted.”
She studies me a moment. “Why are you sitting over here on your lonesome?”
“I needed a moment to myself.” True. I did.
She nods, not taking this personally. She’s done her share of lockdowns. She gets it.
“So, who are you perving on?”
Her question takes me by surprise. Am I that obvious?
“I’m not perving on anyone.” I pause, my eyes seeking out Dane again. He’s got a hand on my brother’s shoulder as he leans in to talk to him. If Logan knew the thoughts circling my brain right now about his friend, he’d lose his shit.
I swallow hard, forcing my gaze away, so I can ask, “Why are the Devils here?”
Beth’s eyes say she doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t call me on it. “I have no idea. Believe it or not your brother doesn’t share a lot of Club business with me.” She tilts her head to the side, considering me. “Dax has an old lady, so it’s got to be Dane.” She narrows her gaze at me. “You two were a little close at my wedding. I saw you teaching him sign language. Is there something going on?”
I roll my eyes, even as I feel heat burning my cheeks. “No. We’re just…”
Friends seems like a strange word to use when it comes to Dane, but that’s all we are.
A friend who I fucked.
Twice in one night…
He might have given me the best sex of my entire life, but the last thing I need or want is to be caught up with a biker. I’ve seen how overbearing my brothers are. Don’t get me wrong, I know both my sisters-in-laws are happy as clams with the status quo, but it’s not the life I want. I get bossed around enough by my brothers, without adding a man to the mix who will do the same.
No, whoever I date will not be a part of this world. I need a suit, someone who works nine to five and has never put a fingertip to a motorcycle before. I’m not someone looking to be caged. I feel stifled enough as it is.
“Just what?” Beth presses.
As I’m about to frame my reply, I feel eyes on me. I lift my own towards the bar, knowing exactly who is looking at me.
Dane.
Shit.
His gaze finds me across the common room and I feel a mix of panic and exhilaration that he’s staring at me so intently. I understand why my sisters-in-law are so smitten with my brothers if this is how they look at them.
But he can’t be looking at me like this, not in a room full of my family. Not if he wants to keep breathing.
Dane doesn’t seem to care, though. His piercing gaze pins me to my seat and leaves me a little breathless.
“Girly, is there something going on with you two, because he’s looking at you like you’re a snack.”
“Of course not,” I sign a little too fast. “It’s against the rules, and he lives miles away.”
“Rules are meant to be broken,” she tells me softly.
Not this one.
My brothers would hit the roof if they knew. Derek would hit the roof.
The urge to confide in Beth what happened is intense, but I don’t want to put her in an awkward position. Her first loyalty is to Logan and I don’t want her keeping secrets from my brother. It’s better to keep this to myself.
Logan would see my actions as a betrayal. You don’t stand against your family, and that is what the Club is to me—family.
“Nothing can happen between us,” I say, even though something already has. It will not be repeated.
I fix her with a smile. “Don’t you have enough to think about without getting involved in my non-existent love life?”
“I’m growing a baby and Logan won’t let me breathe without help. All I’ve got is time.”
I let out a huff of breath. “There’s nothing going on between us, and there won’t be either. Do you think my brothers will let me date? Ever?”
Her lips pull down into a scowl. “They don’t get a say.”
“Okay, well you can tell that to the string of exes they’ve scared off over the years.”
Beth rolls her eyes. “Cavemen.”
I agree, but I’m also telling the truth. My brothers are overprotective to the point of insanity. I need to date someone strong enough to stand up to them.
Dane would fit that criteria, but he’s also from another club, which makes him off-limits. It doesn’t matter how amazing the orgasms are that he gives. He and I will not work.
Unable to stand Dane’s scrutiny and Beth’s questions any longer, I do the cowardly thing. I run.
“I’ve got to go. Please, don’t start any rumours. There’s nothing going on between Dane and me,” I sign to Beth. I hate lying to her, but what other choice is there?
She makes a show of zipping her mouth shut. “Nothing will pass my lips.”
Certain she’ll honour that promise, I slip out of the booth, snagging my paperback and bag off the tabletop before I flee.
I ignore the gaze tracking me, ignore everything but putting one foot in front of the other and not falling flat on my face.
By the time I push out of the room and into the corridor, I feel like prey, caught in the cross-hairs of a predator.
Shit.
Him being here, affixing me with that hungry gaze, is a problem, but I won’t lie. I like that heated gaze being directed at me, even if I know nothing can come of it.
And nothing can ever come of it.
I don’t want a biker.
I certainly don’t want a biker from another club.
And I’m really not attracted to Dane.
I’m also a fucking liar.