Chapter 9
The gate clicked shut behind me, the sound swallowed instantly by thick, drumming rain. I stood planted firm on the wet pavement, scanning the dark line of trees stretching down the lane.
My hands stayed jammed deep in my hoodie pockets.
I’d circled the perimeter twice already: checked every lock, tested the back door, peered into every shadowed corner beneath her porch.
She was safe inside now, the soft warm glow of her kitchen light seeping through velvet curtains like a little promise.
But my chest still felt tight. That beast inside me was roaring low and vicious, a growl that hadn’t settled since I’d walked into that coffee shop at twelve o’clock and seen the fear drain the colour clean out of her face.
Holding that monster chained up so I wouldn’t scare her had been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
Usually, I let it loose on anyone stupid enough to mess with our women.
Walking back to my bike, I’d turned and done one last sweep anyway – keeping watch even when she couldn’t see me.
Danika Sterling. I rolled that name slow around my head, jaw clenched so tight my teeth ground together.
She’d told me who she really was tonight.
Laid herself bare right across that wooden counter – bright green eyes wide and raw, telling me about some old money from London who thought he could own her.
A gilded cage she’d climbed out, out a window in the dead of night to escape.
Every protective, feral instinct I own slammed straight into overdrive.
I’d spent weeks watching her from that corner table, picking up on the sharp wary way she moved, the quiet caution in every smile.
Now I knew why some rich prick tried to smooth down that fire she carried.
Tonight, I wanted nothing more than to ride south, tear that empire apart brick by brick, and make sure he never laid a hand on anyone ever again.
I turned away from her cottage, swung my leg over my chopper, and fired the engine up. That deep thunderous rumble between my thighs was steady, familiar, grounding. I gunned it and headed straight back to the clubhouse.
The second I rolled through the gates they slammed shut behind me. I killed the motor, but before my boots even hit the gravel, the main doors flew open.
A flash of blonde cut through the floodlights.
It was Thorn. She was practically running down the steps, face pale, breath coming fast. Pres was right there behind her, one hand resting light and steady at her waist – equal parts fierce protectiveness and bone-deep exhaustion.
“Rage!” she called out, voice cracking with raw emotion that caught me right off guard.
Before I could even speak, she was right up in my face.
two months pregnant now, barely showing more than a soft swell beneath her oversized hoodie, but those raging hormones had turned her usual gentle sweetness into something sharp and fierce.
Her blue eyes were bright with unshed tears, lip trembling as she curled both hands tight into the front of my cut.
“Is she okay? Tell me she’s okay!” Thorn demanded, a tear finally spilling over and tracking down her cheek. “Leo told me what happened. The men from London… God, if they hurt her – if they even touched her – I swear I’ll—”
“Easy, Little Bird. Breathe,” I rumbled, keeping my tone steady and low, and gently covered both her small hands with mine. I glanced up at Pres, who just nodded slow, like he knew exactly what I was about to say. “Good news, she’s safe. They didn’t get near her. We all made sure.”
“Safe?” Thorn let out a shaky breath, shoulders sagging as she leaned her forehead against my chest for a heartbeat.
The relief was so strong it was almost visible, before her mood swung right back around to that fierce protective fire.
“Because if those bastards think they can just turn up here and hunt her like she’s some kind of animal…
she’s family now, isn’t she? You’re supposed to look after her. You promised me you would!”
Something tight and sharp twisted right through my ribs. I looked at Thorn, then let my gaze drift back out toward the dark lane leading to her place.
“I don’t need no order to protect her, Thorn,” I murmured, quiet enough that Pres paused where he stood. “I would stand between her and a firing squad whether the club told me to or not.”
Thorn’s eyes went wide, the anger melting fast into something soft and knowing. She knew that tone. She’d heard it from Pres enough times. She glanced back at Leo, who just gave her that slow, knowing smirk, then turned those bright blue eyes right back to me.
“You care about her,” she whispered, fresh tears welling up again. “Oh Rage… you see her.”
“I see her,” I rumbled, feeling heat creep up the back of my neck. I’d never said that out loud to anyone but Thorn, Pres and Bones – the ones who knew me better than I knew myself. “Just… don’t go making it all flowery on me now.”
“Get inside,” I said gruffer than I meant, stepping back and nodding her toward the door. “Before Pres loses his mind and yells at you for standing out in the rain. Baby needs to sleep.”
Pres stepped forward then, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, then met my gaze dead-on over her shoulder. “Thanks, brother. Go get yourself a drink. We’ll sort this out properly tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” I grunted, turning toward the doors.
When I pushed through into the common room, stale beer and cigarette smoke hit me, but my mind stayed right down that lane, locked on that quiet little cottage. I walked over to the bar, poured myself a double whiskey, and knocked it back in one burning swallow.
Thorn was right. I cared. More than I ever thought I could about anyone.
Danika Sterling carried a whole storm inside her, and I was done being just the Enforcer.
Tomorrow we’d plan how to hit London back ten times harder.
But tonight. I closed my eyes and pictured that shy little smile she’d given me.
And I knew one thing for certain: nothing on this earth was ever going to hurt her again.
From the second I first spotted her through that coffee shop glass; she was mine to keep safe.