Chapter 20
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Payden
Having Declan here helps, even though I’m still mad at him for not coming clean. When I gave my statement to Willow this morning, we hugged it out. She said Max will keep an eye on me, as well as Dec and Logan, who all of a sudden went into alpha mode.
The second we step in the doors, Logan replaces my brother’s arm over my shoulders, Dozer looks up, his penguin in his mouth. Logan smiles down at him.
“Act like you like it,” Logan mutters.
I smile up at him sweetly. “I wouldn’t have to act if you just played nice.”
“Oh, sugar, this is me bein’ nice. But you did call me Loges twice, and you know how I feel about cute nicknames.”
“Well, it’s better than what Nova calls you, Loganberry.”
“Nova has been a pain in my ass since she was old enough to talk,” he grumbles. “Don’t need you learnin’ her bad habits.”
I snort. “I’m older than her. If anything, I’m the one giving her bad habits.”
“You’re a lawyer,” he reminds me as if I’ve already forgotten. “And Nova says you’re easy to live with because you’re never there.”
“Nice to hear what she says about me behind my back,” I mutter.
He chuckles and I try not to lean into his chest to get a better sniff of that damn cologne that’s hitting me right between the legs. It’s musky, spicy, and laced with something I can’t put my finger on, like dark chocolate.
“You know she didn’t mean it like that. Just that you’re a workaholic, and she wishes she had that type of dedication. Funny I didn’t mention it to my brothers.”
Nova recently got promoted now that Erica is on maternity leave, so I’m certain Logan’s brothers wouldn’t appreciate hearing that.
Still, I smile to myself. Nova has come an incredibly long way in the last few years, and she’s insanely happy with Sawyer. She deserves all the good things in the world.
All of the girls have been super supportive, and I’m officially in the group chat now: Queens of the MC.
So they’ve all been frantically messaging to make sure I’m okay, and then eyebrows were wagging at the fact Logan was taking me to Mississippi and the whole faking my death thing.
Everyone is sworn to secrecy, and I have no idea how the heck they’re going to pull this off.
Thinking about my own fake funeral is creepy and morbid.
As much as I tried with the ‘Cash’s orders,’ nobody was believing it, so I ended up fessing up about me and Logan hooking up, reminding everyone it was nothing serious.
“I’m sure that would go down a real treat,” I agree. “Nova is a wildcard, but that’s why I love her so much.”
“She’s a good kid,” Logan agrees. Of course, he’s almost fifteen years older than her, so she’s a lot like a little sister, and he treats her as such.
I will say, Logan was a lot more supportive of Nova being with Sawyer than Brew and Haze were. They just worry, and though I love that about all the Dawson brothers, at some point, she had to stand on her own two feet. And she did.
“Church is this way,” Declan says, referring to the meeting room.
Unlike the Rebels, the Hellions’ meeting room is at the very back of the clubhouse.
It’s dark inside, the walls adorned with motorcycle memorabilia and photoframes of Harley Davidsons.
It has deep, rich mahogany floors, a long bar, pool tables, couches, tables and chairs as well as booth seats like a diner.
Off to one side of the room there’s a spiral staircase that must lead upstairs to the bedrooms above.
I wonder if we’ll be staying up there. I mean, I did suggest an Airbnb but Logan just gave me an exasperated look.
It’s surprisingly clean inside, and though there is the unmistakable smell of bourbon in the air, it isn’t half bad, considering—not that I’ve been in any other club houses other than the Rebels’.
Mid-afternoon is clearly quiet time, because there’s nobody to be seen, but then Dec stops at the double doors at the end of a long hallway and turns to us.
“You ready?”
I roll my eyes. “What, are we walking the plank?”
Logan scoffs, leans to my ear and whispers. “Behave.”
I glare up at him. “Already taking your old man privileges a little far?”
“You know you say that like I’m an actual old man, not an ol’ man in the way you’re an ol’ lady.”
“There is literally no difference,” I huff.
“There is. One is a man hobbled over with a walking stick ready to take his teeth out, the other is a man who’s mid-forties, runs a bar, trying to keep his fake girlfriend safe.” He bends down to pick up Dozer.
“I’m glad you said ‘fake,’ because that’s exactly what I am.”
“Will you two quit it?” Declan asks. “Jesus, just bang already.”
“Dec!” I chastise, my cheeks flushing.
Clearly, he has no clue we’ve already done just that.
“Let’s get this over with,” Logan sighs, ignoring us both.
A muffled sound comes from behind the doors and Declan turns back to push them open.
My eyes widen when I see a long, wooden table with the same dark wood as the floors, and a low hanging candelabra with candle-like lights. It’s gothic, almost ethereal, and exactly what I would expect from Bane Adler who’s pretty blue eyes assess me as we stand before him.
Okay. He’s easy on the eyes. When I first went to the clubhouse I didn’t believe it when Luna said all the guys were hot.
In all of the years I’d pictured bikers, I’d fantasized about the guys from Sons of Anarchy, or Myans MC, but I didn’t think they’d be hot.
That’s just a TV show, after all. But there’s no sign of any beer-bellied, un-fit men walking around anywhere.
Nope, not around these parts, or New Orleans. Goddamn.
Another man sits to his left, and three others. Not all the members, but the main ones, I’m guessing.
He shifts his eyes to Logan, then stands. “Brother.” They clasp and shake hands as Declan high tails it before I get the chance to drag him back. Declan isn’t a committee member, so he isn’t allowed to be in this room.
I feel a little anxiety wash over me. It’s not that I don’t trust Logan, but having Declan here is comforting because we’re kindred spirits. Yes, he may have gone a little off the rails, and pulling a stunt like this is just like him, but I love him to bits.
“And you must be Payden,” Bane says, a smirk playing on his lips. “The club’s pretty lawyer?”
Of course, he had to add the ‘pretty’ in there.
I feel Logan instantly bristle, earning him a once over from Bane.
I clear my throat, sticking my arm out to shake his hand as a couple of guys seated at the table muffle their laughter. “Nice to finally meet you, Bane, though, your reputation precedes you.”
“For all the wrong reasons, I hope.” His hand is big, warm, and adorned with rings. It envelopes mine, and I know he’s grinning for all the wrong reasons.
He is most definitely easy on the eyes. There’s no doubt about it.
He’s tall. Dark. Handsome. But there’s something about him that has a danger lurking under those pretty eyes.
A dark cloud almost. Call it instinct, something I’m good with and rely on for my job, but Bane Adler isn’t a man to be fucked with.
As accommodating as he’s being right now, it’s only because he knows Cash.
I’m not expecting a welcoming committee, nor do I expect anyone to bend over backwards to accommodate me.
Then I remember my manners. No matter the circumstances, Mom always made sure we minded our Ps and Qs, even if it feels off thanking him for something that I know Cash will owe him for now.
Or maybe even me. “Thank you for accommodating us at such short notice.” It feels like the right thing to do, even though I had no choice in the matter.
There are people out there trying to kill me, after all.
His eyebrows shoot up ever so slightly. “Cash didn’t mention I’d have to put a damn call out to keep all the single guys away from you, sweetheart.” Oh, he’s smooth, too. “Makin’ my life a livin’ hell and you’ve only just stepped foot in my clubhouse.”
Logan almost sounds menacing when he butts in. “Did he mention she’s taken?”
Bane’s eyes flick to Logan’s, a smile playing on his lips. He’s still holding my fucking hand. “Funny, he didn’t mention that part.”
“Well, now you know, and if you don’t remove your hands from her, we’re gonna have a problem.
” Logan tightens his arm around my shoulders and I look up at him.
His jaw is tense, like he’s ready to spring into action if he needs to.
Damn those ovaries. I mean, I don’t mind these two men fighting it out over me, but Logan is more my type.
I also love how he doesn’t give a literal fuck that this is another man’s clubhouse, and there are no other Rebels here to back him up. His tone, in no uncertain terms, tells Bane Adler to fuck the hell off. These men are friends, I remind myself. Allies. Not enemies.
The men behind him don’t move a muscle. None of them seem threatened, but Bane grins even wider.
Bane lets go of my hand, then raises his palms. “No harm, no foul. Can’t blame a man for tryin’.”
Logan gives him a chin lift. “You didn’t have to line up the welcomin’ committee.”
Bane turns to look over his shoulder, then moves back toward the head of the table where he gestures to the men sitting.
“This is Shadow, my VP, Viking, Hornet, Savage, and Archer,” Bane says. Each of the men nod in return.
Savage? I remember Star talking about him when she and Nevada came over here to find her missing little sister, Tilly, and the Hellions helped them out.
Star collapsed when she thought Tilly was dead, and this Savage guy took care of her until Nevada came back.
He’s got shoulder-length shaggy hair, and deep blue eyes that are almost eerie as he stares at me.
You’d think they’d never seen a woman before, but I can bet your bottom dollar they’ve seen more than their fair share.
I’ve heard about Shadow, the Vice Prez, too. He’s solid, like the others, and has a ‘don’t fuck with me’ look about him. He’s more distinguished than the others because of his short hair, shaved at the sides, with tattoos on either side of his head.
Okay, so all these guys are fucking hot, go figure. The girls are gonna go wild when I tell them.
The guy called Viking stands and my eyes widen. Okay, well he’s fucking huge. He has to be almost seven feet tall, and has long, wheat-blonde hair and a beard. I would say without a doubt he’s the largest man I’ve ever seen, and there’s some big men in the Rebels line up.
“Where are our manners?” he says, his voice deep and commanding, yet somehow he almost sounds amused. I reach for Logan’s hand, and I feel his eyes on me. “Please take a seat.”
Logan clears his throat and Viking’s eyes crinkle as he tries to hold back a smile. “Both of you.”
“Cute dog,” Hornet says. Dozer is being so quiet, I almost forgot he was here.
“Thanks, he’s a rescue. I’m only fosterin’ him for now,” Logan says, pulling my chair out as I take a seat at the table. He takes a seat, too, Dozer snuggling on his lap.
Every time he says that, I think he gets further and further away from that reality.
Viking sits again, then aims another question at me. “Heard you survived an annihilation, nice goin’.”
“You could say that,” I reply. “It was… a lot. Let’s just say a day I never want to be repeated. I lost most of my work colleagues, my boss?—”
“Was he a shitty boss?” He manages to say it with a straight face.
I blink. “Actually, he wasn’t the best, but I still didn’t want him dead.”
Viking snorts.
“That reminds me—Ryan,” Logan mutters. “Need to chat with him.”
I nod. “Later.”
“Wait, aren’t most lawyers nasty pieces of work?” Hornet asks, eyeing me. “All the lawyers I’ve ever seen are stuffy, middle-aged losers.You’re pretty hot.”
“Watch it,” Logan points at him.
Hornet smirks. “In our clubhouse now. Our rules, friend.”
The way he says ‘friend’ is kinda like how you’d poke a hornet’s nest and laugh about it. Maybe that’s how he got his nickname?
“Keep your eyes off my ol’ lady, and if anyone even thinks about touchin’ her, I’ll not only cut your hands off, I’ll feed you your eyeballs through that new hole when I rip you a new one.”
And then there’s that.
“Ooh, kinky.” Hornet waggles his eyebrows. “Unfortunately for you, I’m only into chicks, but Archer over here?—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Archer says, shaking his head. “You wanna rumble, asshole?”
Hornet shrugs. “Only speakin’ the truth.”
“It’s always the quiet ones,” Viking agrees. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a little crusty around the edges, he’ll grow on you.”
Archer is clean-shaven, unlike the rest of them, and doesn’t smile. He ignores them and me, looking bored.
Bane thumbs down the table. “Most of the guys are out, but you’ll get to meet everyone later. The women are pleased to hear about your arrival.”
My eyes widen. “The women?”
There’s a sudden clatter at the door. It sounds like a knock, but the intruder doesn’t wait to be let in.
“Thanks for the fucking heads up, assholes,” a woman says, rolling her eyes, holding a tray of what looks like fresh cinnamon rolls. They smell delicious. “You had one job to do.”
“By all means, come on in,” Bane drawls, amusement crossing his face.
She has an apron on, her bottle-blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail, and she’s wearing denim cut-off shorts and a surly attitude.
I didn’t think women, or anyone, were allowed in here without…
“This is Ivy, my little sister,” Bane says. “Who is supposed to knock before entering. We have guests, let’s remember our manners.” He glares at her, but she ignores him, tilting the tray when Shadow tries to nab a roll off so he can’t reach.
Shadow mutters a profanity but she ignores him, standing at the side of my chair as she smiles broadly. “Hi. I’m Ivy. Cinnamon roll?”