4. Ash
4
ASH
T he clubhouse is too loud tonight. There’s too much laughter, too many voices bouncing off the walls, and too many people pretending everything’s fine. My fingers drum against the worn wood of the bar as I nurse a whiskey I didn’t want, but Liam had insisted and I hadn’t been able to refuse.
“Boss, you’re brooding again.” Ryder’s voice cuts through the noise as he slides onto the stool beside me, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Starting to think you don’t know how to relax.”
“Not in the mood, Ryder,” I mutter, swirling the amber liquid in my glass.
Ryder leans back, tipping his chair onto two legs as he gestures toward the room. “What’s the problem? The guys are letting off steam. It’s good for morale.”
“Morale doesn’t mean shit if we’re not prepared.”
“Alright, easy there,” Ryder says dropping his chair back onto four legs and raising his hands in mock surrender. “You want prepared? Then say the word, and I’ll?—”
“I want information,” I interrupt, turning to face him fully, “on Reynolds. On the Hellfire Riders. On whatever the hell is brewing under our noses.”
“You think they’re hiding something?”
“I think we’re blind, and that’s dangerous.” My voice is low but sharp, cutting through the din around us.
Dagger joins us, leaning against the bar with his usual calm. “Heard you two from across the room. What’s the plan now? Another late-night reconnaissance mission?”
Ryder snorts. “More like Ash snapping necks because someone didn’t say ‘please’.”
I glare at him, and he raises his hands again, this time with a laugh. “Kidding. Mostly.”
“The Hellfire Riders are being too quiet,” I say, ignoring Ryder’s jab. “And there’s that woman tied up in this mess. She knows something, and I need to figure out what before Reynolds makes his move.”
Ryder whistles low. “Ah, Laina. The damsel in distress. I was wondering when you’d bring her up.”
“She was at some café today,” Dagger says, his tone carefully neutral and measured. “Ran into her. Literally.”
My head snaps toward him. “And you didn’t think to mention this?”
“She’s... different,” Dagger continues, ignoring my tone. “Not as fragile as you’d think. But she’s carrying something heavy. You can see it in her eyes.”
Ryder chuckles, leaning forward with that infuriating grin still plastered on his face. “Dagger’s got a soft spot. Didn’t think I’d see the day.”
“Knock it off,” Dagger says, his voice low and warning.
“She say anything useful?” I ask, cutting through their bickering.
“Hell no. We were just trying to get her name.”
Before I can respond, Liam saunters over, drink in hand and a lazy grin on his face. “You guys look like you’re plotting a murder. What did I miss?”
“Reynolds,” I say flatly.
Liam’s grin fades, replaced by a serious expression I don’t see often. “Jesus Christ. Ash, you’ve become a broken record.”
I side-eye him for a moment.
“Liam, if I let myself drink and fuck as much as you did, nothing would get done around here and you’d all be dead or in prison.”
“That’s bleak.”
“Just being honest,” I say with a shrug. “Tell more about this little coffee encounter.”
“Not much to report. She’s still living in Eureka, close to downtown. Her name is Laina and she likes strong coffee.”
“Did you follow her home?”
“Not yet.”
“We’re working on it,” Ryder cuts in, “I understand how important all of this is to you.”
“I’m with Ryder,” Liam adds, “if she’s a lead, we can’t afford to lose her.”
“And if she’s a liability?” Dagger asks, his voice quieter but no less intense.
“She’s not. I’m sure of it,” I say firmly. “But if she becomes one, I’ll deal with it.”
The only certainty I have is that Reynolds is like a snake, slithering in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And Laina? She's either bait... or bait in the making. Either way, I know we're running out of time.
"I need you to keep an eye on her," I tell Dagger, my voice low so no one else can hear. "Unobtrusive, but close. If she gets a whiff of trouble, I want to know. Figure out where she lives, her route, her daily routine, who she sees…you know the usual.”
He nods his understanding, the ghost he was born to be. "You've got it."
"And Ryder," I turn to face him, and his grin drops for once. "I want every available man to find everything there is to know about the Hellfire Riders' recent activities. I don't care if you have to shake down their grandmothers, I want intel."
"You got it, boss," he says, his tone all business now, any hint of levity gone. This was what he lived for: the hunt.
Liam claps me on the back as he leaves. "If you need me to squeeze some information out of anyone, just say the word."
At that moment, the door to the clubhouse swings open, and the familiar click of heels echoes against the worn floorboards. Every head in the room turns, mine included, as Tessa strides in like she owns the place—which, in some ways, she used to.
Tessa’s always had that effect: commanding attention without even trying. Her long, jet-black hair cascades over her shoulders in loose waves, catching the dim light like polished obsidian. She’s wearing a leather jacket over a cropped black tank top, paired with high-waisted jeans that cling to her curves. Black stiletto heels click in perfect rhythm as she walks.
“Trouble just walked in,” Ryder mutters under his breath, grinning as he leans back in his chair.
“Shut it,” I growl, standing as Tessa locks eyes with me.
“Ash,” she purrs, her voice smooth and smoky. “Miss me?”
I don’t answer right away as I try to gauge her mood. The corners of her mouth lift in a faint red-painted smile as she crosses the room, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“What are you doing here, Tessa?”
“Not exactly the warm welcome I was expecting,” she replies, stopping just short of me. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. You always did have a way of making me feel... special .”
“Tessa now’s not the time.”
She arches a perfectly sculpted brow, her hands resting lightly on her hips. “It never is with you, Ash. I’m not here to cause any problems.”
“Good,” I reply, though the words feel hollow. I don’t really believe her.
“You’re wound tight, even for you,” she observes with narrowed eyes as she studies me. “What’s going on?”
“Club business,” I say shortly. “Doesn’t concern you.”
She snorts, a sound that’s both amused and dismissive. “Right. Because I’ve never been involved in club business before.” Her slender hands rest on my shoulders, squeezing slightly. “Come on. I’m sure you can afford to take a break.”
I hesitate, caught between my duty to the club and the long-buried feelings stirring within me. Tessa could always read me like an open book, and I hated that she was probably seeing through me right now.
"Fine," I say reluctantly. "Five minutes."
Tessa's lips curl into a victorious smile as she leads me outside, away from prying ears. The night air is cooler than I had expected, a welcome break from the stuffy atmosphere of the biker bar. We stop under a street lamp, its flickering light casting eerie shadows across her face.
She kisses me, lifting on her tiptoes to bring her mouth to mine.
The kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome. Her lips are as soft as I remember them, her touch electric and familiar. For a moment, just a brief moment, the tension between us dissolves, and it's like nothing has changed.
But I pull away, breaking the spell she's cast over me, and take a deep breath. "What do you want, Tessa?"
“Awe, come on, Ash. I’ve missed you. And it’s been a while.”
Her hand slithers down my abs to my belt where she loops her finger and tugs me back to her. She kisses me again, harder than before, burying her tongue into my mouth, letting me taste her. She wants me to remember.
I sigh, catching her wrist before her hand can wander any further, and lean back from her lips. "Tessa, stop. I can't do this right now."
She pouts, looking up at me through her dark lashes. "Why not? We used to have so much fun together."
"Things are different now," I say firmly, releasing her hand. "The club is dealing with some serious shit. I need to stay focused."
Tessa rolls her eyes. "The club, the club, the club. It's always about the fucking club with you. What about what you want, Ash? What about us?"
"There is no us," I snap, my patience wearing thin. "Not anymore. You made that perfectly clear when you left."
Hurt flashes across her face before she masks it with a scowl. "I left because you chose the club over me. Every single time."
"The club is my life, Tessa. You knew that from the start."
"Yeah, well, maybe I thought I could change that," she says with a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Guess I was just fooling myself."
Silence hangs between us, heavy with unspoken words and old wounds.
I exhale slowly, a pang of regret mixing with the frustration churning in my gut. "Look, Tessa, I never meant to hurt you. But I can't be what you need me to be. The club, the guys... this life... it's part of who I am."
Tessa's eyes glisten with unshed tears in the dim light, but her jaw sets stubbornly. "I get it, Ash. I always have. But that doesn't make it any easier to accept."
I tilt my head, studying her for a long while. Something wasn’t adding up. She had left me for some guy she met at the gym, so why was she here kissing me?
“What happened? I thought you found yourself a new man?”
Tessa looks away, her voice quieter now. "It didn't work out. He wasn't... he wasn't you."
“And let me guess, he kicked you out of his place and you need somewhere to crash.”
She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Jesus Christ, you don’t have to be an asshole about it.”
“Am I wrong?”
She doesn't answer right away, her gaze is locked on the cracked pavement beneath our feet. When Tessa finally looks up, her eyes are blazing with a mix of anger and hurt. "You know what, Ash? Screw you. I didn't come here for your pity or your judgment."
“Holy shit. What are you doing? I’m not playing any games with you. Not anymore.”
“I’m not playing games!”
My jaw tightens, frustration rising in my chest. "Then why did you come here, Tessa? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're running from your problems and expecting me to solve them for you."
"I'm not running from anything. And I sure as hell don't need you to solve my problems."
"Could've fooled me.”
Tessa takes a step closer, jabbing me painfully into my chest with her finger. "You think you've got it all figured out, don't you? The big bad biker, too tough to care about anyone but himself and his precious club."
I grab her wrist, my grip is firm but not painful. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" she retorts, her face inches from mine. "I know you better than anyone else.”
“Bull shit.” I pull her against myself, weighing the options. I haven’t had time for a good fuck in a while, and she might help relieve some tension. My eyes run over her curvy figure. She knew exactly what she was doing.
Tessa's body molds against mine as I pull her close, the heat between us rising despite the chill in the night air. Her breath catches and for a moment, the defiant fire in her eyes softens into something vulnerable and familiar.
"Ash..." she whispers, her voice barely audible over the distant rumble of engines from the clubhouse.
I can feel my resolve crumbling. The temptation to lose myself in her, even just for a night, grows stronger by the second. It would be so easy to fall back into old patterns. To let the rest of the world fade away and bury all my problems right between her thighs.
“You can stay for a few days. That’s it.”
Tessa's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of surprise and maybe even gratitude crossing over her face before she changes her expression into something more neutral. "A few days," she echoes, nodding slowly. "I can work with that."
I release her wrist and take a firm step back to put some much-needed space between us.
"Don't make me regret this," I warn her gruffly.
A faint smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Wouldn't dream of it."
"There are rules, Tessa. You don't interfere with club business. You don't start shit with the guys and when I say it's time for you to go, you go. No arguments."
"Yes, sir," she says, her tone just shy of mocking.
"I mean it," I press, my gaze boring into hers. "I don't have time for distractions right now."