Mine Now (The Phantom Vipers MC)

27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Blake

I have never been inside a bikers’ clubhouse and I am not sure what I thought it would be but there are more people, especially more children here. I wasn’t aware so many kids were involved with the club. Or women, for that matter.

The house is beautiful on the inside—it doesn’t take away from the openness of the yard out front or the beautiful brick walls on the outside. It looked like each stone was perfectly placed by hand.

The inside has dark wooden walls and nice hardwood floors. I wonder who keeps it so clean all the time. I can’t imagine it being easy with the number of parties they seem to have here.

The front rooms smelled of smoke and alcohol, but at least the room we are in now smells… manly. It smells like Hunter—a scent I could get used to.

I think back to some of the scrunched faces looking at me as I walked through the house just moments ago. Some of the women looked like they smelled something bad. Or maybe I am just new, and they are trying to figure out who I am. I’m not sure, but it made me feel a little uncomfortable.

“It isn’t much,” Hunter says, pulling me from my thoughts. “But it should do for a few nights.”

He tosses our bags on the bed and walks into the bathroom. “There’s a shower and a place to put your hygiene stuff when you’re ready.”

“Thanks.”

I look over the bed at the large viper wrapped around a phantom. On top of it, in bold letters, it states Phantom Vipers. When Hunter turns toward me, he tilts his head. “What’s wrong?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Nothing.”

My voice is barely above a whisper as I continue staring at the large patch above the bed until Hunter comes into my view. “Tell me what is on your mind,” he grumbles.

I chuckle. “It’s nothing really. Just some of the women out there gave me unfriendly looks, is all.”

He raises his brow. “Which ones?”

It doesn’t matter which ones. I don’t need him to fight my battles for me. “No one. It’s fine.”

He lets out a breath and takes a step back.

I point toward the patch on the wall. “Is that the name of your motorcycle club?”

He looks over his shoulder above the bed and nods.

“That’s cool.” I point to the specter on his hand. “Is that why you have this tattoo?”

He lifts his arm to bring his tattoo into a better view and turns his arm toward me. He points at the phantom. The tattoo begins on his calloused hand, where a figure emerges from the shadows, its ethereal form entwined with the bones of his knuckles. “This phantom isn’t just a haunting figure; it symbolizes the very essence of the Phantom Viper Club.” He leans toward me. “The legends whisper that those who join the club do so not just for the thrill of the ride but to embody the untamed souls of those who’ve come before them.”

“Woah,” I whisper.

“Yeah. The phantom, in itself, represents the brotherhood of fallen riders, reminding us that each twist of the throttle carries the weight of their memory. It’s a fierce reminder to ride hard and live free, for the spirits of the lost ride alongside us with every rev of the engine.”

“What's the story behind the viper wrapped around it?” I find myself wanting to know every detail he’ll give me.

The viper slithers upward under his shirt sleeve. Its scales are intricately detailed and vibrant. “The viper is a symbol of the club’s venomous loyalty—strike hard, strike true. The reason it coils around the phantom is to merge their stories in a dance of danger and power. Just like the Phantom Vipers. The viper represents the grit and determination to protect what’s ours.”

I raise my brow. “And how do you guys protect what’s yours?”

He lets out a breath and sits on the side of the bed. “Well, much like a real viper, when a threat emerges, we don’t just bite; we inject fear into the hearts of those who cross us. The viper is a tribute to the fierce reputation the club has earned over the years, striking terror into the hearts of our rivals and ensuring our dominance on the open road.”

Charlie pulls herself up on the bed to sit next to Hunter and points at the barbed wire nestled in the design. “What is that for?”

He turns his attention to her and smiles. “Each part of this tattoo tells my story, little one.” He points to the same barbed wire she just did. “This signifies the boundaries that protect our club. It’s a harsh reminder that loyalty comes with a price, and crossing the line could lead to dire consequences.” Then he begins pointing at the small row of names engraved along the inside of his forearm.

“Each one of these are the initials of a fallen brother.”

Before he can explain, Charlie interrupts him. “What does fallen mean?”

Hunter looks to me for help with explaining it to her. I lean down to her level and grab her hand. “It means that an important person in his life went to a better place than Earth. All of their troubles are gone, and their bodies are no longer with us.”

She gives me a solemn smile and then looks back up at Hunter. “How many are on your arm?”

He shakes his head. “Too many to count, little one.”

“Why do you have them written on you?” she asks.

“Because each name is a ghost that rides alongside me each time I ride. It’s a promise to keep their memories alive.”

“Where does the head end?” I blurt out.

His eyes sparkle with mischief, and then he pats his right pec. “Here.”

I find myself wanting to see the head of that snake, and it’s taking every ounce of my being not to ask him to remove his shirt. That would be inappropriate in front of Charlie.

I realize that there is only a single large bed in the center of the room, and I look behind me at the other wall. “Where will we be sleeping?”

He pats the bed he is sitting on.

I tilt my head. “Where will you be sleeping?” My cheeks flush as panic rises within me at the thought of us sharing a bed.

He points to the floor, and I instantly feel terrible. “No, absolutely not. You can’t sleep on the floor! I’ll sleep on the floor with Charlie, and you can sleep in your bed.”

I begin grabbing the nearby blankets and laying them out on the floor.

He shakes his head and lets out a laugh. Then he walks over to the closet and pulls out a small cot. “ Charlie can sleep here, and you and I can share the bed. I’ll put multiple pillows between us; we can have separate blankets so you’ll be safe.”

I shake my head. “No, no, no. I couldn’t possibly. This is your space. I can sleep on the floor. I promise it’s going—”

I am cut off mid-sentence when Hunter steps into me. “You will sleep in that bed and that is final. No more arguments. No more thoughts.” He taps my head. “I’ll make it as comfortable for you as you wish. But you will not be sleeping on the floor.”

I stare at him in shock, embarrassment creeping up my spine. Did he just chastise me like a child? I fold my arms over my chest, swallowing down the heat racing to my face.

But underneath the embarrassment is something worse-fear. I am terrified of sleeping in the same bed as him. What if something happens? Not because I don't trust him but because I don't think I can trust myself. Plus, I fucking snore. What if he can’t stand my snoring? What if I keep him up all night and he gets irritated with me? What if it’s too much? What if I am too much?

My anxiety is already through the roof. How am I ever going to fall asleep with him in the bed with me?

“Mommy, can we go outside so I can play now?” Charlie whines, pulling me from my spiral.

“I guess we can join the rest of the party now.” I sigh. The people out there scare me to death. Am I really going to be welcomed when we go out there, or will they all take one look at me and judge me by my looks and instantly hate me?