Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
AVA
My phone buzzes insistently as Steve’s name flashes across the screen, but I ignore it, shoving the device deep into my jean pocket. I’ve got bigger things to worry about right now than his latest tantrum.
Like the fact that I’m about to be judged by the president of a freaking motorcycle club.
When I was a teenager, I liked to brag to my friends about Archer being in a biker club. I didn’t even mind going with him to the club he works at.
But walking into a motorcycle club bar and telling the president I know something I shouldn’t? I’m not very eager for that.
Archer catches my eye as we live the building. “You sure you’re good to ride?”
I shrug. “There’s no other option, is there? Steve took the car. And apparently, I must see your president.”
Archer drapes an arm over my shoulders, but he twists his lips apologetically. “We have strict rules in the club. Many of my brothers don’t have a family like I do, so they need the club to back them up. That’s what happens with Dante.”
I nod. “I get it. And I hate it that he has to hide who he is.”
Archer gives me a long glance, then squeezes my shoulder. “King is level-headed. All you have to do is promise you’ll keep it a secret, and he won’t do anything.” He lets me go, then walks to his bike.
Dante leans against his Harley, arms crossed over his broad chest. He’s wearing his cut, the black leather stark against the white t-shirt stretched over his muscular frame. My gaze lingers on his chiseled jawline, the short dark hair, those piercing green eyes.
Damn, he’s handsome.
And dangerous. Very dangerous, as I witnessed firsthand. Luckily, I don’t remember much, but I do remember screams of pain.
I tear my eyes away as we approach. Archer slings a leg over his ride while Dante remains still as a statue. I glance between them uncertainly.
Archer opens another apologetic smile.
“Uh, where do I...?” My question trails off as I realize there’s only room for Archer on his bike. He grins and jerks his head toward Dante.
“Do you mind riding with Dante? He’ll take good care of you, won’t you, brother?”
Warmth floods my face. “Why can’t you ride his bike?”
The two make a shocked face as if I had suggested something sacrilegious. I immediately raise my hands.
“Okay. Okay, I get it.” Not really, but I don’t mind riding behind Dante.
Reluctantly, I approach his bike. He looks away, almost avoiding me. I awkwardly swing my leg over the seat behind him. The worn leather is warm against my thighs as I settle in place.
He’s so big, his shoulders blocking my view, his body radiating heat like a furnace. I hesitate, unsure where to put my hands. On his waist? His hips? God, this is weird. We barely know each other and now I’m basically forced to spoon him.
“Hold on,” he orders gruffly. I can’t see his face but I swear I feel him tense as I gingerly wrap my arms around his middle. His abs are rock hard under my linked hands. I gulp, praying he can’t feel my racing pulse where my wrist rests against his stomach.
The engine roars to life, vibrating between my legs in a way that makes me squeeze my thighs reflexively. Dante sucks in a sharp breath. Or maybe I’ve imagined it.
Shit.
I force myself to relax, but it’s almost impossible with my front molded to his muscular back, my breasts cushioned against him.
Is it just me or is there some kind of electric current buzzing in the tiny spaces between our bodies? I can’t be the only one feeling this...this awareness. This tension. Can I?
Archer’s bike roars off. Dante kicks off his stand and we follow. The wind whips my hair back as we fly down the road, following Archer’s lead. I duck my head behind Dante’s shoulder to avoid the stinging in my eyes.
The smell of his leather jacket is intoxicating. There’s a spiciness beneath it, something like amber. Why did he have to smell good on top of all the rest?
Soon the city fades away, replaced by a blur of thick pines as we veer onto a barely paved back road. The bike kicks up gravel and I press closer instinctively, my grip tightening. Dante doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, I swear he leans into the contact.
We pull into the dirt lot of a run-down bar on the outskirts of town. A forest looms behind it. Archer is already cutting the engine and climbing off as Dante coasts him to a stop. I start to slide back, eager to put some distance between us.
Dante offers a hand. “Careful. Your legs might feel weird at first.”
I put my hand in his, electricity zinging up my arm as his fingers close around mine. He tugs me down then holds me steady. My legs do buzz a little. For a breathless moment I’m locked in his hand and in his eyes.
I feel branded everywhere we touched, hyperaware of the hard lines of him, the sheer size and strength. He could snap me like a twig, yet there’s a surprising gentleness in his touch.
Archer’s steps are loud as he kicks the gravel. “Ava,” my brother calls. “You ready?”
Dante releases me and dismounts. I nod, not trusting my voice not to waver, and fall into step between the two men. I glance up at the faded neon sign.
The Grim Reaper
Dante enters first and holds the door open. The pungent mix of stale beer, cigarette smoke, and old leather makes my nose twitch. Raucous laughter and the crack of pool balls vie for dominance over the throbbing bass of classic rock from an ancient jukebox in the corner.
It’s a dive bar through and through.
Archer slings an arm around my shoulders, tugging me close as we weave through the crowd. “Relax, Avs. I got you,” he murmurs with a reassuring squeeze.
A hush ripples through the bar. Conversation dies and every head swivels toward the back corner. I follow their stares to see a towering figure rise from a table in the very back, his presence commanding instant respect.
Holy mother of muscles. The guy’s a freaking mountain, easily six and a half feet of bulging biceps and coiled power straining against his black t-shirt. Intricate tattoos snake down his arms, and a thick beard frames a face that’s as ruggedly handsome as it is terrifying.
Archer leans down to murmur in my ear, though his voice is still too loud. “That’s King. Club president.”
King doesn’t move toward us. He waits for us to approach, the crowd parting. A dozen of rugged bikers stare at us, definitely smelling blood in the water.
King’s sharp gaze rakes over me, assessing, before flicking to Archer and Dante. He grins. “It’s always the two of you, isn’t it?”
Archer grunts, rolling his eyes. Other men chuckle and mock. I say nothing. This is already better than what I expected.
“Come on,” King says, motioning to the table in the back. “Sit down. Tell me what she knows.”
The three of us sit with King. I feel so tiny sharing a table with these three massive men.
Archer clears his throat. “Prez, this is my sister, Ava. She’s investigating a politician, and he’s been threatening her. He sent some fuckers after her. Dante stepped in to keep her safe.”
King arches a brow, staring at Dante. “And?”
“I shifted,” says Dante. “She saw it.”
There’s a moment of pregnant silence. King stares at Dante. The biker club must have a rule about keeping shifter secrets. That must be why Dante is part of it.
“How many men attacked her?” King asks.
“Three,” Dante replies without missing a beat.
King nods slowly. “And where are they?”
Dante and Archer exchange a glance, then they look at me.
I don’t like this.
Archer reaches under the table and grabs my hand. Dante clears his throat.
“I killed two,” says Dante. “We got rid of the bodies. The third way escaped while I got Ava to safety.”
My stomach plummets. My eyes go wide. I snap my gaze at Archer.
He squeezes my fingers with a silent promise— Later .
Holy shit. Dante killed men to keep me safe. My heart races in my chest as I turn to look at him, but he doesn’t look back.
I look at King. “His secret is safe with me,” I blurt out. “Dante saved my life. There’s no way I’d betray him.”
King hums, stroking his beard. “And why should I believe that?”
Indignation flares in my chest. “Because I’m in this whole problem because I’m fighting for what’s right. I’ve been investigating Congressman Thorne for his shady anti-shifter agenda. I think he’s up to something wrong, and these threats just come to prove it.” I take a beat to catch my breath. “Shifters deserve the same rights as anyone else. I’d never do anything to jeopardize that. It’s against what I’m fighting for.”
Archer clenches his jaw. I half-expect him to bark at me for talking out of turn.
To my shock, King throws his head back and laughs, the sound booming through the bar. “Well, shit. Kitty’s got claws.” He looks at Archer, still chuckling. “I like her. She’s got balls, I’ll give her that.”
Relief crashes through me. Holy hell, I can’t believe that worked.
King sobers, pinning me with a stern look. “Alright, Ava. You’ve got a temporary pass. But if you’re going to be sniffing around this Thorne bastard, you stick close to the club, understand? Archer and Dante will keep you safe.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You’re going to help me? Why?”
King jerks his chin toward Archer. “Archer’s a founding member and you’re his sister. He’s annoying, but he’s a brother.”
Archer laughs. “Asshole.” He jumps a moment later. “Ow! You fucking kicked me!”
King smirks. “Respect your president.” He turns back to me. “And you, only one way to make sure you’ll both stay safe and keep Dante’s secret. Dante.” He meets Dante’s eyes. “You’re on babysitting duty. She can’t leave without one of you. Make sure she keeps your shifter nature behind her teeth.”
My jaw drops. I can’t even look away from King.
Dante as a bodyguard? This is either going to be the most thrilling week of my life or the death of me.