Chapter Three
Shadow
She’s a natural. Of course, she is. The way Remi works the bar, and the bikers, tells me she’s spent many years blagging her way through life. It’s all an act. She pretends to be confident and loud, but deep down, she’s suffered. And that bothers me more than it should.
“You should take a picture, I hear it lasts longer,” says Grizz with a grin.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you show any interest in another woman.”
I scowl. “I had Sasha sucking my cock right by that bar just last night.”
“I said interested,” he repeats. “You don’t wanna fuck Remi. You wanna wife her up.” He laughs as he heads into church.
I roll my eyes and follow. Stupid arse doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I huff to myself. I ain’t ever wife-ing anyone up. Least of all, Remi.
Axel is already at his place, head of the table. He waits for us all to sit before slamming the gavel on the table the same way his old man used to. “It’s been a long time coming,” he begins. “But as you all know, tonight is about us making connections.”
“Pres, this ain’t Love Island,” Fletch jokes, causing a few brothers to snigger.
Axel fixes him with a glare, and he mutters an apology. “I knew Ragnor from inside,” he says, his eyes glancing to Grizz, who smiles.
“Shit, you never said he was out.”
“Yeah, well, he’s been fighting demons. Anyway, he and his blood brother, Hex, have started their own MC. It’s not far from here, and before you get all unsettled, he asked permission.”
“It’s unusual,” says Duke. “I don’t know of any other MC that sets up, side by side, with another.”
“You know I like to do shit differently these days, old man.” Duke laughs, shaking his head.
“Are they running any businesses?” asks Atlas.
“Yeah, they’re taking over a cleaning company, a bar, and they’ll take over the drugs from us.”
The men shift uncomfortably, but Axel cuts in.
“We never wanted to run that shit, but we had no choice. Every time some scumbags come in and run it, crime is up and all eyes are on us. Ragnor is gonna continue running it the way we have—clean and with our suppliers. We still have some control, but we’re not getting our hands dirty. ”
“And we’re making profit?” asks Cash.
“It’ll be a tidy sum without the outlay,” Axel reasons.
“And you’re sure you trust this guy?” I ask. “He won’t screw us over down the line?”
Axel looks me in the eye. “I trust him, brother. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here telling you this.” I nod. It’s good enough for me.
“Let’s vote,” says Grizz.
Axel goes around the table, and everyone says, “Aye.” With one hundred percent yes, he slams the gavel to signify the end of church and a new partnership with the Hell’s Avengers.
Remi
I glance at the door that all the bikers disappeared through, leaving me alone with the two prospects, Smoke and Shooter. When it finally opens, I relax. Even though Shadow weirds me out with his eyes constantly on me, I find it mildly comforting.
The second he steps out, he looks for me. I watch as he scans the room, and when his gaze finally lands on me, his shoulders relax. But he doesn’t smile or even acknowledge me. He just stares . . . again. I laugh to myself and grab a few empty glasses, taking them back behind the bar.
Minutes later, the door opens and more bikers pour in. These men aren’t in the same leathers as the Chaos Demons. Theirs have a different logo on the back, with the words ‘Hell’s Avengers’ sewn on the patch.
Axel greets the first guy like an old friend, calling him Ragnor. Ragnor proceeds to introduce his friends, then Axel does the same. I watch with interest, which captures Ragnor’s attention. He grins, showing dimples and a cheeky glint.
“When you’ve finished drooling, I’ll take a water.”
I startle at Shadow’s gravelly voice, instantly dragging my eyes from Ragnor. I force a smile and grab a bottle of water from the fridge, placing it on the bar. “I wasn’t drooling.”
“You’re just the barmaid, so don’t get any ideas.”
I frown slightly. He’s always so dismissive. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“You’re not here as entertainment. We have women for that.”
“What is your problem?” I snap, and he almost grins as he takes a sip of water without breaking eye contact. “I sat on your bike. It’s hardly a crime.”
“If he doesn’t want you to sit on his bike, I sure would like to see you on mine.” I glance up as Ragnor leans against the bar with a smirk. “Ragnor,” he introduces, holding out a hand.
“Remi,” I reply, placing my hand in his. He gently raises it to his mouth and presses a kiss there, smirking. A low growl can be heard coming from Shadow’s direction.
It gets Ragnor’s attention, and he holds out a hand to him next. “Shadow, right?”
“Enforcer,” Shadow tells him, making no move to shake his hand.
Ragnor laughs, retracting it. “Good to meet you, brother. I’m the President.”
“I know.”
“My Enforcer, is just like you.”
“An asshole?” I cut in, getting another laugh from Ragnor.
“I was gonna say cautious,” he replies.
Shadow fixes me with a glare. “Don’t you have work to do, barmaid?”
I salute, making sure to give him a wide smile as I saunter off to collect more empties. Dick.
Shadow
I like him, even though I don’t want to.
Ragnor is decent. He talks about his club like they’re his life, just like Axel, and I see how passionate he is about making change from the way he talks about his plans.
And Ruckus seems good too. Quiet, like me, assessing everyone to check we’re not out to harm his club. I get it.
And then I drag my eyes back to Remi, who is making them all feel right at home as she serves drinks and laughs at just about everything they say. I shake my head in annoyance. I knew she’d be trouble.
“I have a bed with your name on it.” I turn to Sasha as she places a hand on my shoulder, practically thrusting her tits in my face. I’m not complaining—she’s got a good rack.
“Oh yeah? Usually, you’re not fussy about a bed.”
She grins, her fingers instantly reaching for my belt.
And then Remi glances over, and I find myself reaching for Sasha’s hand .
. . and stopping it from going farther. She glances up, her brows knitted together in confusion, but fuck if I have a clue why, I just know I can’t, not with her here. It feels wrong.
“Maybe later,” I say, releasing her and walking away.
Fuck. Now, she’s really in my head.
I’m leaning against the wall by the pool table, nursing a beer I’m not really drinking, when I hear her laugh.
Not just any laugh, but that kind that bubbles out of her without thought, light and warm enough to slide right under my skin. I shudder then tilt my head slightly, and sure enough, I see her at the bar with Ragnor. He’s leaning in just a little too close for my liking.
“. . . so then I told him he could take his pint and—”
Ragnor grins. “And shove it where the sun don’t shine.” Fuck, now, he’s finishing her sentences. “Yeah, I can believe that from you.”
She laughs again, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
I don’t like the way he’s looking at her. I don’t like the way she’s letting him.
“Anyway, I have to go.” She glances at her watch. “My shift has ended.”
“You need a ride?” Ragnor asks, his voice all smooth charm.
“Actually, yeah––”
“She’s got one,” I cut in, walking up before she can finish. My tone’s flat, but it’s enough to make them both turn.
Ragnor raises a brow. “I’m sure she can answer for herself, brother.”
“She can,” I say, locking eyes with Remi, “and she’s telling you she’s riding with me.”
Her mouth drops open. “I’m sorry, did I say that?”
“No,” I reply. “I just did. Let’s go.”
She mutters something under her breath but grabs her jacket and follows me out.
The ride’s quiet. Too quiet.
She’s behind me on the bike but sitting stiff, not leaning in, like she’s making a point. She didn’t even hold on to me this time. Seems she’s worked out what the sissy bar is for.
When I pull up outside Roxy’s place, it’s pitch black.
“No lights,” I say.
“She’s probably still working.” Remi shrugs, sliding off the bike. “It’s fine. You can go.”
I don’t move. “You got a key?”
“Nope.”
“Then it’s not fine.”
“I’ll wait. Roxy won’t be long.”
“She’s a dancer at the club. She could be hours.”
She crosses her arms. “Shadow, I’m not your problem.”
I swing a leg off the bike and step closer. “Maybe not, but I’m not leaving you out here in the dark so you can get chatted up by the next guy who walks past.”
Her eyes narrow. “Oh, so now I’m not allowed to talk to anyone?”
“You can talk to whoever the hell you want. But don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing with Ragnor.”
“What I’m doing? I was making conversation. I’m a barmaid. That’s literally my job.”
I huff out a laugh that’s got no humour in it. “Your job isn’t to get yourself wrapped around a club president’s handlebars.”
“Maybe I want to.”
The heat spikes in my chest. “Then you’re dumber than I thought.”
Her jaw clenches. “You know what? Forget it.” She turns on her heel, heading down the street.
“Remi,” I call, already following. She ignores me, so I lengthen my stride. “Where the hell are you going?”
“Somewhere that’s not here.”
“Yeah, no. You’re coming back to the clubhouse.”
“I told you, I’ll wait––”
“You want me to make you? Cos I will.” My voice is sharper now, enough to make her falter. “You’re coming back with me.”
She glares, but when I nod towards the bike, she lets out a huff and stomps back with all the grace of a toddler having a tantrum.
When we roll into the clubhouse, it’s quieter. Ragnor watches us with interest, but before she can say a word, I drag her past and upstairs. We get to my landing, and she glances around.
“Which room’s mine?”
“There’s none spare,” I lie without blinking.
Her brow furrows. “Seriously? There’s like twenty doors.”
“Full. You can have my bed.”
“I’m not––”
“It wasn’t a polite request.”
She stares at me for a beat, probably trying to figure out if I’m serious. There’s no way I’m letting her wander the hall at night, not when Ragnor is still here.
She steps into my room like it’s enemy territory, cautious, arms crossed, chin high.
Her eyes flick around the space, taking in the unmade bed, the worn leather jacket hanging on the back of the chair, and the faint scent of smoke and motor oil that’s soaked into the walls after years.
“This is it?” she asks, one brow raised.
“This is it,” I say, closing the door behind us.
“Charming.”
She drops her bag onto the bed and looks at me. “Where are you sleeping?” My eyes fall to the bed, and a smirk pulls at my lips. She gives a sharp laugh. “You think I’m sharing with you?”
I step in closer, slow, not touching her but close enough she can feel my shadow over hers. “I think you’re under my roof and I’m not letting you out of my sight. That’s what I think.”
Her eyes flash with defiance. “You’re unbelievable.” She shakes her head, brushing past me towards the wardrobe, like she’s trying to put space between us. I catch the faint trace of her perfume, something light, fresh, and it’s enough to make my pulse jump.
“You know,” she says, turning back to face me, “you don’t get to tell me who I can talk to, ride with, or—”
“Ragnor isn’t just some guy in a bar, Remi. He’s a club president. Everything you say, everything you do, gets his interest, puts you on his radar. And if he decides he wants you . . .”
She smirks. “Then you can’t have me.”
My jaw tightens. I take another step towards her, but she holds her ground, eyes fixed on mine. “Get some sleep,” I say finally, my voice low. “Door stays locked. If you need anything, you call me.”
“I don’t have your number,” she states, arching a brow.
“You do. It’s in your phone.”
Her eyes narrow, but I don’t elaborate further or explain how I took her mobile earlier when she was distracted and added my number as her emergency contact. I can’t even make sense of it in my own head.
For a second, neither of us moves. The air’s thick with tension, but if I lean in, she’ll either slap me or kiss me. I don’t risk finding out which. I turn, forcing myself towards the door before I do something stupid.
I catch her reflection in the mirror as I leave, and she’s still watching me with a hint of a smile pulling at her lips.