by Khloe Wren
As a prospect, I hadn’t been told why Silk suddenly needed around-the-clock guarding. There were always issues with the Iron Hammers, but nothing specific had gone down that I’d heard about. I knew some of the other Daughters of the Club weren’t being watched at all. It didn’t add up, but as a prospect, my job was to do what I was told, not to question it. And if it meant more time around Silk, I wasn’t going to complain.
Once the girls locked themselves in, I left my bike to do a quick boundary check of the house, just to be sure. When nothing looked suspicious, I rang for the night shift to come in. I was due to work a few hours, manning the bar back at the clubhouse once I finished here, and I was hoping to catch one or two of the old-timers. Hopefully, they would have had a few drinks by the time I got there, and would be willing to answer my questions about what the hell might be going on.
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