Chapter 4
KEVLAR
The guy smiled as he scooted out of the booth, a little too easily. Too damn smooth.
“Good. I feel much better leaving her here knowing that.” He gave me a casual wave like we were old buddies, as though I hadn’t just watched him sniff around what was mine.
Then he turned and ambled toward the exit with that same unhurried ease that had probably disarmed a hundred people before tonight.
I didn’t smile back. Or nod. I watched him go, my jaw tight, tracking every step he took until the bell over the door jingled, the sound too cheerful for the red heat building in my chest.
It took everything I had not to follow.
Maren’s eyes were on me, filled with curiosity. Her lips were parted, and I knew whatever question was on the tip of her tongue would be one I didn’t want to answer yet. So I didn’t give her the chance.
“Don’t worry about it. Go back to work, baby.”
Her gaze lingered for a beat, then she gave me a small nod and turned away. She didn’t understand what was happening. Didn’t see the storm rolling in around her. But I did. And I was going to make damn sure she never felt the full weight of it.
I slid back into the booth, angling my body to give me a full view of the front door, register, and every customer still lingering in the diner.
I leaned back, casually sipping my coffee like I wasn’t a half-second from snapping.
The only thing stopping me was the tight control that had been trained into me long before I wore the Hounds patch even though it was hanging by a thread.
Through the front windows, I watched the guy walk to a parked vehicle down the block.
The make, model, and license plate raised another red flag.
The same black SUV with tinted windows had been showing up at odd intervals around Maren’s life.
Near the diner, across from her home, once outside the damn grocery store.
It wasn’t always the same driver. But it was always the same vehicle.
Wizard had been trying to pull the details apart for two days, but they were buried under a dummy corp so layered it may as well have been built from smoke.
I’d seen a lot of clean ops in my life, but this was surgical.
Precise. And now it had a calm, forgettable face that made small talk and asked harmless questions while he marked his target.
My jaw locked. My spine hadn’t uncoiled since the guy smiled at me and slid out of the booth. That grin hadn’t been fake—but it had been wrong.
He was good. Too good. That kind of laid-back ease wasn’t casual. It was curated. The warm smile, the way he leaned into the booth, the natural rhythm of his questions—he was a pro. Not a hitter. Or muscle. Something worse.
He was an asset scout. Retrieval prep.
Fuck.
He was checking her threat awareness. Reading the crowd patterns. Calculating proximity and response times. That comment about whether she was going home alone wasn’t curiosity. It was an assessment of her vulnerability.
Every word he’d said had been calculated to draw information without alerting her.
He’d already known, though. He was simply confirming what he suspected.
I clenched my jaw hard enough that my molars ached.
Five days I’d been coming in here. Watching.
Waiting. Observing Maren as she moved through her night shifts, as if she didn’t have a clue her world was about to tilt.
She smiled at every customer. Topped off coffee.
Chatted about pie and sides like she didn’t feel the shadows crawling closer.
But I did.
Every fucking minute of it.
I even watched over her from a distance when I couldn’t be with her. Wizard had tapped the diner's security feed and local traffic cams. Fed them through a learning script to flag her location anytime she crossed the frame.
I’d thought about bringing this to King, but it wasn’t club business yet. Even though I’d been monitoring the weapons pipeline, this—Maren—was just mine.
My obsession. My fucking failure if something happened to her.
I dragged a hand down my face and checked the time.
Her shift would end in just under an hour.
Every other night, I’d leave ten minutes early, wait in the lot, and follow her home.
She never noticed, which only reinforced what I already knew—she needed someone to fucking protect her.
Someone who knew how predators moved and would see this shit before it could get close.
Like me.
Following her home might not be an option anymore.
The next time she ducked into the back for something, I stood and strolled to the counter under the pretense of needing a coffee refill. Susan was nowhere in sight. And Mark was behind the pass window, focused on a ticket. No one was paying me any attention.
I casually leaned over the counter and flipped through the stack of credit card receipts. It didn’t take long. The third one down had the name I needed. The amount and timing matched. Maren’s handwriting was neat and precise.
I slipped it back into the pile, made sure everything looked untouched, and walked calmly back to my booth.
Then I pulled out my phone and fired off a message.
Me
Run this name. Fast. Probably an alias.
Wizard
On it.
I winced for half a second when I remembered that he had a one-month-old baby at home and quickly sent a follow-up.
Me
Tell Thea I’m sorry.
Wizard
This is about Maren?
Me
What do you think?
Wizard
Then she understands.
I set the phone down and watched Maren walk past again, that soft sway in her hips making it damn near impossible to keep my thoughts straight. A few minutes later, she brought my refill with a smile, completely unaware of the storm brewing in my gut.
As she turned to move to another table, I resisted the urge to pull her onto my lap and tell her she wasn’t going home alone tonight. Or any night after this.
I blinked and lectured myself for my lack of self-control. I was supposed to stay alert. Focused. But dammit, every time I looked at her, my brain short-circuited.
And fuck me, the things I’d imagined doing to her.
I wanted her on her knees, those pink lips wrapped around my cock, eyes locked on mine while I fisted her hair and fucked her mouth. I could practically see those sweet freckles dusting her flushed cheeks, her blue eyes filled with fire.
I wanted her wrists above her head, tied to my bed, her body naked and open. Her breath caught with every slow stroke of my fingers between her thighs, teasing her clit until she was writhing and begging me to fill her.
I wanted to watch her squirm while I held her wide open and pressed deeper, inch by inch, until she broke. My cock throbbed at the thought of the sounds she’d make when I claimed her so deep she couldn’t think straight.
She didn’t even know what she was doing to me. Sashaying around, smiling, brushing her hair back like she wasn’t built for worship.
I shifted in my seat, my jaw clenched tight, the strain in my jeans uncomfortable. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself—again—that I needed to focus on the threat. Not the fantasy.
Besides, I’d decided I wasn’t gonna touch her. Not yet. Not until she was safe.
But once that happened, I was going to take my time ruining her for anyone else. One slow, filthy inch at a time.
My phone buzzed, and I snatched it up fast.
Wizard
You were right. Fake name. But I got a hit with my facial recognition program.
I started to type, but saw the dots jump on the screen and waited to see what he said next.
Wizard
The guy’s linked to Russell Dunbar.
My entire body went cold.
Me
You’re sure?
Wizard’s reply was a middle finger emoji.
Normally, I would have rolled my eyes and shot off a smart-ass comment, but I’d already moved on from our exchange.
Russell Dunbar.
Fucking hell.
That name hadn’t crossed my radar in years. But I hadn’t forgotten. Couldn’t. He’d been a contractor-turned-criminal back when I was still running ops with a few of my brothers before the club. He helped move black market weapons through a quiet little pipeline on base.
Russell wasn’t involved with selling weapons retail or street-level deals, but he was the infrastructure that allowed the weapons pipeline to exist without exposure.
He coordinated logistics and arranged storage locations where the weapons were temporarily cached before redistribution.
He vetted couriers and safe nodes, ensuring deniability at every step so that no single link could identify the whole chain.
Basically, he made sure weapons were moved without leaving fingerprints.
Nobody was infallible, though, and he almost got my SEAL team lit up in a bad deal. But he was a slippery bastard. Fucking disappeared before we could close the file.
Seeing his name now felt like unfinished business clawing its way back from the dead.
And the chatter about the pipeline probing our area suddenly made sense. Dunbar wanted to use the Hounds of Hellfire as cover for his shit. He figured our reputation would keep people from looking within our territory. Hiding in plain fucking sight.
Now, Maren was a potential threat to his business.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and breathed through the fire building in my chest.
Dunbar was planning to touch what was mine. He’d sent a man to map her rhythms. Gauge her value. Prep a fucking grab.
That guy tonight was Dunbar’s confirmation. This wasn’t surveillance anymore—it was a quiet check-in before they made their move. They were about to take the next step.
Not happening. Ever.
I leaned forward, bracing my forearms on the table, and locked my gaze on Maren as she moved between tables.
Her ponytail swayed, and her apron strings brushed the back of her thighs with every step.
My cock throbbed again, but this time, it wasn’t just desire.
It was the possessive, territorial burn of a man pushed to the edge.
My eyes stayed still glued to Maren as she worked—smiling, soft, and completely oblivious that she was fucking marked. Not just as Dunbar’s target…she was also branded by me.
She didn’t know she was mine yet.
But she would.
I couldn’t wait any longer. It was time to act.
Linking Dunbar and the pipeline to Maren made her situation club business, which meant it was time to loop in King.
I texted Wizard again.
Me
This isn’t recon anymore.
Wizard
It’s club business now.
Me
No shit.
Wizard
When are you gonna tell the prez?
I glanced at my watch. It was almost two in the morning. As long as Maren was safe, it could wait a few more hours.
Me
After I get Maren settled at the clubhouse. No reason to wake anyone right now.
Wizard
Put a sock on the door.
Me
Fuck you.
Wizard
I have an old lady for that, brother.
I pocketed my phone without responding and glanced back toward the counter just as Maren bent over to grab something under the register. Her shirt rode up enough to flash a hint of bare skin. I clenched my fists at my sides, the mix of lust and fury simmering hotter than ever.
I stood slowly, feeling the burn in my spine as my pulse thundered in my ears.
Maren didn’t know it yet, but her world was about to change.
She belonged to me now.
And anyone who tried to take her was already fucking dead.