Chapter 8 #2
Again, I didn’t bother to deny it. Nor did I have to ask if he was gonna go blabbing to Jax. I knew he’d keep this shit to himself unless it was necessary. When it came to a brother’s woman, every one of us knew to stand far away from the blast area.
I looked back at the monitors. The screen showed nothing but still hallways and the steady tick of the time stamp.
Edge stood and stretched before giving me a knowing look. “When a Redline King gets attached, it’s not casual. It’s fucking permanent. Might as well stop pretending otherwise.”
Then he left, the door closing behind him with a soft snick.
Edge was right.
But knowing that didn’t spur any action.
Over the next couple of nights, I watched her.
From my office. From my laptop. From my phone. Everywhere.
On the club’s cameras…and the damn cameras I’d installed myself.
I told myself it was for her protection. That if anything happened, I’d see it coming first. But that wasn’t the whole truth. I just needed to know she was safe. Needed proof that the danger wasn’t close enough to touch her.
And maybe I just needed to see her.
Sometimes she had to go to campus, and she’d come home late, hair twisted up, eyes tired. She’d drop her bag on the couch, make tea, and curl up with her laptop until she fell asleep in the glow of the screen. Every time she moved, my pulse followed like it had its own leash.
By the third night, the tension in my gut hadn’t eased. It had sharpened.
That was when I drifted across yet another line.
She was at the library until almost ten. I knew because I’d watched through the live feed as her car pulled in and parked, then as she walked up to her apartment. I waited until she’d gone to bed before I headed to her place.
Her lock was good. But not good enough. And I almost stormed into her bedroom and blistered her pretty little ass when I realized she hadn’t set the alarm. Even if it served my purposes for the night.
Inside, it was warm and faintly sweet—her delicious scent made my mouth water.
Her phone sat on the kitchen counter, plugged in, the case worn smooth at the edges.
I was a little disappointed that she didn’t keep it in her bedroom, giving me an excuse to go in there…
but it was probably for the best. I wasn’t convinced I would have been able to leave.
It took two minutes to clone her cell. I’d done the same for club security plenty of times, and this was no different. That was what I told myself as I set the alarm, then walked out and locked the door behind me.
The next day, the first message from Ethan came in.
He asked about the project, and even though it was through text, I could hear his snippy tone.
When she didn’t reply, he sent another message telling her not to ignore him.
Again, no response, so his next comment was a threat about getting her kicked out of school.
I read it once more, jaw tight.
Then I decided to scroll back a couple of weeks and take a look at their conversation history.
Ethan
You can’t just hang up on me when I’m trying to help you.
Then another.
Ethan
I didn’t mean to sound harsh last night. You just push me sometimes. You know how that makes me.
You push me sometimes.
The words scraped under my skin like barbed wire.
As I scrolled forward again, my pulse climbed higher with each message. The tone shifted, becoming pushy and controlling. More threats about their project. Constant demands that they meet in person.
Something went cold inside me when I reached the bevy of texts from today. The first one was about an hour ago.
Ethan
We need to meet up.
Ethan
I didn’t like seeing you with that biker the other day.
Ethan
He’s dangerous. Those guys are killers.
Ethan
You deserve better. Let me bring you dinner tonight.
Ethan
Stop ignoring me, Alanna.
There was a five-minute pause, then another message.
Ethan
Is he really that good of a fuck?
What the hell?!
Ethan
If that’s what you want, I can be rough.
Ethan
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten angry and said that. It’s just…you don’t need anyone but me. We’re good together.
The cold inside me ignited as I kept reading.
Ethan
I’ve seen him around your place. I don’t like it.
Ethan
Do you wear those slutty outfits for him?
The next one snapped the last bit of restraint I had left.
Ethan
I’m coming over.
My blood pounded in my ears as fury exploded in my chest.
I sat back hard in my chair, fingers flexing into fists until the knuckles popped. He’d been talking to her like they were a couple—giving orders and keeping tabs. The thought of his hands anywhere near her made my vision go dark at the edges.
That was it.
No more waiting. No more pretending this was something I could handle alone.
I opened my contacts and scrolled to Jax’s name. My thumb hovered over the Call button.
If I made that call, it wouldn’t just pull him off his honeymoon. I’d have to explain how I knew about Alanna’s stalker. Other stalker.
It would expose everything—how deep I was already in, how far past the line I’d gone.
I could already hear his voice, sharp and jagged.
“You swore you’d keep her safe! Not fucking date her!”
The phone buzzed before I could talk myself into making the call.
Motion alert.
The feed popped up on my screen—grainy black and white, timestamped 8:08 p.m.
It was one of the cameras outside Alanna’s building.
I watched a familiar sedan pull in slowly, the headlights cutting across the quiet lot.
Ethan’s car.
My chair screeched along the floor as I shot to my feet.
I grabbed my keys and wallet on the move.
By the time I hit the garage, the night air was thick and still, salt from the coast riding the wind.
I swung my leg over my Harley, the seat still warm from the afternoon sun.
The engine roared to life, the noise soothing my temper just enough to put me back in control of myself.
Before stowing my phone in the inner pocket of my cut, I glanced at the screen.
Son of a bitch!
Ethan was stalking up to her front door.
I twisted the throttle hard enough to make the pipes snarl, then took off, leaving behind a cloud of dust.