Chapter 16 Zara
Bush’s hand swallows mine as we walk toward the clubhouse doors, and I try not to read too much into the way his fingers lace so naturally with mine. His callous palm is warm and solid. My hand fits perfectly in his.
It’s ridiculous that something so small makes my heart do this stupid little flutter, but it does. My fingers curl tighter around his as we climb the steps, like I need to memorize their shape. I feel as if I let go, I might lose something important.
The clubhouse door swings open before we even reach it, music and laughter spilling out into the night air—the scent of leather, beer, and something smoky wraps around us as we step inside.
And that’s when everything changes. Bush immediately drops my hand. There is no reluctance, just an emptiness.
One second, he has me anchored to his side, the next, he’s gone.
“Holy hell,” he mutters, already moving past me.
I turn just in time to see a beautiful blonde woman launch herself at him.
She’s stunning. Long, glossy hair that falls down her back in soft waves. Her brilliant smile splits her face. She has flawless skin, and she’s wearing a leather kutte like the one Bush is wearing—the same patches except for the bottom rocker. Hers reads "Las Vegas" instead of "Chicago".
Before I can process what I’m seeing, Bush scoops her up like she weighs nothing.
He laughs—a full, unrestrained sound I don’t think I’ve heard from him before—and swings her around in a circle.
She squeals, throwing her head back, her laughter bright and carefree. His hands are firm on her waist. The familiarity and intimacy twist something low in my stomach.
He sets her down but keeps his hands on her for a second too long. They’re both grinning at each other like they share a hundred private jokes.
Then another blonde steps forward.
This one is taller. Thin in that effortless, model way. Perfect posture. Perfect makeup. Perfect everything. She’s wearing a kutte too, same as the first woman. She moves with the kind of confidence that says she’s used to being watched.
Bush pulls her into a hug without hesitation.
She presses close. Very close. Too close.
I suddenly become hyperaware of myself. My simple blouse.
My practical boots. The way my hair probably looks like a rat’s nest after running my hands through it so often today.
I feel small and ordinary. I’m completely out of place in a room filled with leather-clad women who look like they stepped off a runway.
The music feels louder now, and the laughter sharper.
Bush is still talking to them. He’s animated and happy. His ease with them makes something ache in my chest. I don’t belong here. I’m just an outsider. He probably sees me as the young girl he once protected. I could never compete with them.
“Guess he missed them.”
The voice slides in beside me, sugary and sharp at the same time.
Crystal.
I recognize her instantly—the platinum hair, the glossy lips, the way she leans in like we’re conspirators instead of strangers. One of the Kutte Bunnies. She hooks her arm casually through mine before I can react.
“They’re from the Vegas chapter,” she continues, nodding toward the blondes. “Bush used to spend a lot of time out there with them.”
My stomach tightens.
“They seem… close,” I say, hating that my voice sounds small.
Crystal smiles, slow and knowing. “Oh, they are.”
The words land like a punch.
I watch as the first blonde playfully shoves Bush’s shoulder. He catches her wrist, but doesn’t let go right away.
“They’ve got history,” Crystal adds lightly. “Club history. Vegas parties get wild.”
I swallow. Of course they do. Of course, Bush has history. He’s not some untouched fantasy hero. He’s a biker in an outlaw club. He’s lived an exciting life and had experiences I can’t even imagine.
Still, it hurts more than it should.
“Don’t worry,” Crystal says, squeezing my arm. “Men like Bush? They always circle back to what they really want.”
Her eyes flick to me, assessing.
“And sometimes,” she adds with a faint smirk, “they just like having options.”
Options. The word echoes in my head as Bush finally glances around the room.
When his gaze finds mine, everything fades.
All the noise, the Vegas women, and Crystal all vanish until his expression shifts.
He looks like he just remembered I’m here.
That hurts more than seeing him greet the women. He forgot about me.
“Zara, come over here. I want you to meet some friends. They’ve come here to help you,” Bush says, rushing toward me and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He pulls me into the crowd until we’re standing directly in front of the first blonde.
She’s as beautiful as I thought. The name embroidered on her kutte is Chill.
I’m not sure how to act, but I hold out my hand to her.
She shakes it and gives me a brilliant smile.
“Zara, is it? I’m Chill. This is my guy Hunter.
” A stunning man with light hair and green eyes smiles at me as he places his arm around Chill’s shoulders.
He’s also wearing a kutte, but his is denim.
I know from the other guys in the clubhouse that this is the kutte prospects wear.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” I say. “I’m sorry you had to leave home and come here. Although I’m not sure how you’re going to help?”
Chill chuckles. “We’re going to be your bodyguards. Chrome thought women might blend in better than a bunch of musclebound bikers. Especially, my girl Viper. Viper, this is Zara.”
The second blonde woman comes over to greet me. She towers over me and is almost as tall as Bush and Hunter. “You look like a model,” I sputter out.
She laughs. “That’s why I’m here. I used to be a showgirl. You know, the big headdresses and skimpy outfits?” Viper holds her hands up to represent the towering headdresses that I’ve seen on ads about visiting Las Vegas.
“You were a showgirl?” I ask, dumfounded. “How did you wear those headdresses? They must have weighed a ton.”
“Close. They were heavy, but they built up your strength. Thanks to them, when I joined the Demon Dawgs, I was always tougher than I looked.”
“You’re patched member?” I ask in surprise. “I didn’t know women could join a motorcycle club.”
“We’re the only two, for now,” Chill says. “Puma, our President, is different. He doesn’t care about gender, only results.”
“I guess the other clubs are okay with it?” I ask, unsure of how much I can pry. The truth is, I’m curious. It’s like meeting an imaginary creature.
Chill shrugs. “Not all of them, but no one fucks with Puma.”
Bush laughs. “Don’t kid yourself, Chill, no one fucks with you or Viper, and not just because of Puma. Chill was a Marine. She’s tougher than most of us. Viper is not only tough; she earned her road name because she and her brother, Rattler, raise poisonous snakes.”
“I heard my name,” an attractive blonde man with green eyes, wearing a kutte joins us.
Following him is a man with brown hair and brown eyes, and another gorgeous woman who is almost as tall as Viper.
Her ebony skin glows, and she has the most brilliant gold eyes. She looks like a panther in human form.
The guy wearing the kutte holds out his hand. “I’m Rattler, this one’s twin brother.” He jerks his thumb at Viper. “This is my guy, Randy, and my girl, Bianca.”
“The three of you are together?” I ask.
“I’m a lucky girl,” Bianca says with a laugh as Tony joins us.
“My god, you’re a goddess,” Tony says in awe as he looks Bianca up and down. “Wouldn’t she be gorgeous in that hot pink number?”
I see Rattler and Randy stiffen when Tony first spoke, but they relax quickly. Tony notices and waves them off. “I’m not interested in your girl like that. I’d be more interested in either of you, but I see that’s a lost cause.”
Rattler and Randy grin at him.
“You’re a couple of weeks too late,” Viper chimes in, drawing Tony’s attention.
“And you! Look at that blonde hair and those eyes. She’d be glorious in that aqua blue number of yours. Are you our new models?”
“I am, if that helps us protect you both,” Viper says. “That’s why we’re here. Chrome wanted our double x’s to help us fit in. However, Bianca isn’t part of the detail.”
“No! She has to be. She’s exactly what my piece needs. Please?” Tony begs.
Bianca shrugs. “I can help out. I may not be able to fight, but I can shoot a gun.”
“Not happening,” Rattler says with a laugh, but he shares a look with Randy before returning his gaze to Bianca.
“However, if you want to help, we could use someone on the inside whose job it is to get Zara and Tony to safety if something happens. That would let Viper and Chill focus on the source of the attack.”
“I can do that,” Bianca says with a grin. “I want to help.”