Chapter Five
LYRIC
The gun taps twice on my window, my breath inhaling sharply as I stare down the barrel. “Uhh… Chase?” I whisper, fear rising through me that if I speak too loudly, I might startle this bulging biker before me.
He chuckles, rolling down his window, sticking his head out. “Hey, sorry to approach unannounced. I’m Chase, a friend of Rip’s. He knows we’re coming.”
The older guy, who somehow makes that salt-and-pepper look he is sporting look good for a rebel, slings the rifle back on his shoulder, but says nothing to us. Simply steps aside and speaks into the radio on his shoulder.
I spin facing Chase and widen my eyes. “You said nothing about a freaking biker club,” I whisper, but forcefully.
He shrugs with a mischievous grin. “Would you have come with me if I did?”
Shaking my head adamantly, I flare my nostrils at him. “No. Absolutely no—”
“You can head on in. Rip vouched for you,” the older guy states, glancing down through the window at me with a devilish grin.
“Thanks, man,” Chase simply says as the gates open and he pulls into the massive parking lot.
My eyes widen, taking in the sight of this enormous place.
My palms are sweating as we drive into what can only be described as a fortress.
The insignia of the LA Defiance MC clubhouse looms ahead of us, and everything about it screams dangerous territory.
Chain-link fencing topped with razor wire surrounds the compound, security cameras are positioned at strategic intervals, and the building itself looks like it could withstand a damn military assault.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
I feel completely out of place, my eyes wide as I take in the clubhouse, those big, burly bikers walking toward us in those intimidating club cuts.
I clutch onto Chase’s arm, feeling entirely out of my depth in a place like this.
“This is… wow,” I murmur, staring at the massive Defiance logo painted on the side of the building.
A pair of skulls morphing into engines with wings sends a chill down my spine.
“I had no idea places like this actually existed. I thought it was all show for movies and television shows, but this is… wow,” I repeat, unable to find a better word.
Chase chuckles beside me, clearly amused by my reaction. “Different world, isn’t it?”
Different world is a damn understatement.
My eyes dart everywhere, taking in the rows of motorcycles parked in perfect formation, the men in leather cuts watching our arrival with calculating expressions.
These aren’t the kind of people you see at the farmer’s market or grabbing coffee on Main Street.
These are real, legitimate bikers who look like they could snap me in half without breaking a sweat.
We step out of the truck, and I jump around, looping my arm with Chase, more to comfort my nerves. I clutch Chase’s arm tighter, suddenly grateful he is here with me. Whatever his connection to these people, at least I’m not walking into this alone.
Suddenly, a guy with sun-bleached hair comes flying past the other men, running toward us with unbridled excitement. When he reaches Chase, he slams into him with the kind of full-body hug you’d expect from long-lost brothers.
“Guys, come meet Chase and Lyric. Dude, it is so freaking gnarly to see you again, man,” the blonde guy says, continuing to slap Chase on the back.
Gnarly? This is Rip? He is not what I expected from Chase’s descriptions, but there’s something immediately likable about his easy-going energy.
Two other men approach us. One who clearly commands respect just by the way he carries himself, and another whose protective instincts are written all over his face. They’re both studying Chase and me like we’re potential threats.
The commanding one extends his hand. “Chase.”
“Heard a lot about you, Alpha,” Chase replies, gripping his hand firmly. “Rip’s told me some stories.”
His name is Alpha. Got it!
Alpha raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between Chase and Rip. “How do you know Rip?”
I watch as Chase glances at me, then at Rip, and something unspoken passes between them.
There’s definitely more to their relationship than surfing buddies, but Rip jumps in with an explanation, “We used to be surfing bros back in the day. Chasing gnarly waves and the babes, am I right?” Rip waggles his eyebrows with a chuckle.
Chase fights back a grin. “Ahh… something like that,” he says, glancing at me with what I can only describe as mild panic.
I can’t help but tease him. “Hey, I’ve only known you for a hot minute, Chase. So please don’t hold back your manwhoring ways because of me.”
Rip pulls Chase to him, chuckling loudly. “Oh no, Betty. You got my man all wrong. Chase ain’t like that now. He’s all cool and calm like a soft breeze. He’s not about the babes now. Right, bro?”
Chase exhales, shaking his head with a smile. “I’m not sure you’re helping, Rip. But thanks for trying.”
Betty? I file away that interesting nickname choice.
“Yeah, bro, I’m down to help anytime! Anyway, you said you wanted to bring me something on the phone?” Rip continues.
Chase tilts his head, moving toward the rear of my truck. “Ahh, yeah. I think you guys have been missing something?”
When he drops the tailgate, revealing the chaos of chewed grass and apples and one very content goat munching on what’s left of his carrots, I can’t help but smile despite my nerves.
At least Doughnut looks happy.
“Baaa.”
“Holy shit!” Rip shouts, rushing toward the truck. “Doughnut!”
The relief and joy on his face are so genuine that some of my anxiety melts away. These men might look intimidating, but their love for this silly goat is undeniable.
“Where the fuck did you find him?” Alpha asks.
I step forward, still feeling overwhelmed but eager to explain. “He just… showed up at my flower shop two days ago. Scared the hell out of me when I opened the rear of my truck and found a goat eating my inventory.”
“Two days ago? You didn’t see anyone with him?” Alpha presses.
I shake my head. “I was at my usual supplier for a pickup, and from what I can tell, he hopped into the back of my truck there to get a good feed. How he got to the supplier, I’m not sure…” I pause for a moment. “Sorry, I’m not much help.”
Rip shakes his head, looking between Chase and Doughnut with obvious affection. “Poor little grommet must have been out on his own for an entire day. He’s been missing for three! How the hell did you get involved, bro?” he asks Chase.
“I was buying flowers for my mother from Lyric’s shop, and I saw her with the goat. With all the pictures you send me of Doughnut, and that one time you brought him to our catch-up lunch, I was sure he was Doughnut. Then Lyric confirmed as much.”
Wait! He gets pictures of Doughnut?
And they’ve had lunch together?
These two have definitely stayed in closer contact than the casual ‘old surfing buddies’ story suggests.
Rip beams with excitement as he climbs into the truck bed to check on Doughnut. “Dude, we were totally worried about you. How the hell did you get so far away?” The goat bleats in response, and Rip laughs. “Yeah, I missed you, too, buddy.”
The pure joy on Rip’s face makes my heart warm. This isn’t just about a missing animal—this goat clearly means the world to him.
“So, you two drove all the way here just to return our goat?” the other protective biker asks, though his tone has softened considerably.
I nod enthusiastically. “We had to bring him back personally. It was the right thing to do.”
“Plus,” Chase adds, his expression growing serious in a way that makes my stomach flutter with unease, “I figured I owe Rip more than just a phone call. And when he mentioned you guys thought he was taken, well, I definitely wanted to get him back to you. I didn’t want him to think I was holding him against his will…
” he pauses, his eyes narrowing as he looks directly at Alpha, and his voice takes on a tone I’ve never heard from him before—pointed, meaningful, “… like he was in prison or anything.”
The tension that suddenly crackles through the air is so thick I could cut it with a knife. Alpha and the protective man exchange a look that speaks volumes, and I can sense undercurrents of communication I’m not privy to.
But the whole thing strikes me as absurd, and I can’t help but burst out laughing, slapping Chase’s arm. “We spoiled that goat rotten, Chase. Why would he think he was in prison?” I say, completely baffled by the sudden serious turn in the conversation.
He’s just a goat, for crying out loud.
And we did spoil him.
We gave him carrots, apples, and even some of my Red Vines.
Doughnut lived like a king during his adventure with us.
The tension that suddenly fills the air goes right over my head, but Alpha seems to get whatever message he was trying to send.
He then clears his throat and waves his hand toward the clubhouse doors.
“Where are my manners. You both had a long drive. Why don’t you come inside, have a drink, something to eat, and rest for a while before you head back? ”
I start to wave it off, we’ve done our good deed, and I’m ready to get back to familiar territory, but Chase cuts in. “I’d love to check out where Rip’s living…” He turns to me. “If you don’t mind, Lyric?”
I hesitate, looking around at the compound with its intimidating atmosphere.
But Chase looks so hopeful, and these people have been surprisingly welcoming despite their rough exterior.
“Sure… spending time at a biker’s clubhouse.
What could go wrong?” I say quietly, though my voice probably betrays my nervousness.
A woman with kind eyes steps forward, taking my arm gently. “Hey, I’m Sadie, and you have nothing to be scared of here. I promise you. Come with me, we’ll head to the kitchen and grab some food.”
There’s something genuinely warm about her that makes me feel safer immediately.