Chapter 17 Bush
Having Chill and the others in Chicago relieves some of the tension I’ve been carrying.
Now that the Bushrangers know my location, I need to watch my back.
However, my priority is to protect Zara.
The walls were closing in, and I was getting desperate.
Chrome made the right call, requesting help from Puma.
Chill and Viper are exactly what we need.
Bianca is a nice surprise. Knowing that if all hell breaks loose, her focus will be on getting Zara to safety relieves some of my fear.
I stretch out in one of the scarred wooden chairs at the long table in the clubhouse, Zara tucked against my side, her thigh pressed to mine.
The remnants of dinner—empty burger baskets, grease-stained paper, a few abandoned fries—are shoved to the center.
Beer bottles sweat in our hands. The jukebox hums low in the background, something classic rock and familiar.
Across from us, Tony is in full-on spazz mode, gesturing with his bottle like he’s conducting an orchestra.
“We have so much to do tomorrow,” he says. “We need to get Viper and Bianca registered as models right away. Luckily, tomorrow is when we meet with all the models and get them fitted with the designs they’ll be wearing in the show.”
“How many designs will we be wearing?” Bianca asks. “I’ve never walked a runway before. Maybe we should practice?” She looks at Viper for her input.
“I’ve never walked a runway, either,” Viper says with a shrug. “But I’ve been on stage before. We should practice. I elect Tony as our instructor.”
Tony beams at her as he stands. “It will be my pleasure!” Tony stands and claps his hands like he’s running a damn boot camp. “Move, move—clear it out. I need a straight line. No, straighter than that. Hunter, you’re not furniture—shift.”
Grumbling bikers drag chairs and tables aside, boots scraping across concrete. Arson mutters something about this being the dumbest thing he’s ever seen, but he still helps. Within minutes, the common room’s got a makeshift runway cutting right through the middle.
I lean back in my chair, beer in hand, watching the circus.
Tony steps into the center, all sharp focus and city polish. “Posture first. Shoulders back. Core tight. You don’t stomp—you glide.”
The cloak of Viper’s previous life as a showgirl flows over her, transforming her from brutal ass-kicker to supermodel. The collective gasp of several bikers watching the show tells me that they see it, too. Bianca tries to mimic Viper, but she appears too stiff.
“Relax, Bianca,” Tony encourages her. “Don’t copy Viper. She’s not you. You are a different beast. You’re a panther stalking your prey.”
Bianca considers his words as she shakes her arms to loosen the tension. Then, she prowls. That’s the only way to describe it. With her chin up and a deadly expression, she glides to the end of the makeshift runway before retreating.
Tony claps his hands in glee. “Absolutely stunning. You’re both amazing. This is going to be the best fashion show ever.”
They continue to practice while the rest of us watch.
Chrome leans back in his chair at the head of the table, arms crossed over his chest, dark eyes sharp but amused. “What time do you need them there?”
“Eight,” Zara says. “The loft opens at seven-thirty for designers. We’ll be there most of the day. Fittings start at nine. Rehearsals are in the afternoon. Tony and I will basically live there until show night.” She doesn’t look overwhelmed. She looks lit up.
That’s what gets me.
The clubhouse isn’t exactly a gentle place. It’s loud, rough around the edges, filled with patched men and strong women who don’t tolerate weakness. But she fits here like she was built for both worlds—high fashion lofts and biker bars with concrete floors.
Chill taps the table. “So tomorrow, Hunter, Rattler, and I will accompany Bianca, Viper, Zara, and Tony? How many ways in and out of the loft? Do we have enough to cover them?”
“There is a freight elevator that’s the primary way in,” Arson says. “There is also a stairwell. I took a look around the place earlier, and those are the only two entrances I found.”
“Okay, we should be good, then. Hunter and Rattler can stand guard at the entrances. I’ll walk the space. Viper and Bianca can focus on their roles.”
Zara is splitting her attention between Chill and Tony.
She smiles at the progress of her two newest models, but she doesn’t ignore the seriousness of the situation.
When we first brought her here, I worried.
Worried she’d see too much. That the clubhouse would intimidate her.
That the weight of what’s coming with the Bushrangers would crack that confident exterior. But she’s solid.
She listens when Chrome and Chill discuss security. She asks smart questions. She doesn’t flinch when Randy mentions visiting CPD in the morning.
Randy wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I’ll swing by the Twelfth District first thing. You mentioned having a contact there, so I’ll check with him. You said he’s aware of the situation with the Bushrangers?”
Chrome nods once. “Detective Dyson Teller, he’s Torque’s brother.
He knows we suspect trouble from them, but he doesn’t know all the details.
I told him Bush rode with them back in Adelaide before moving here.
Knowing Dyson, he probably did some research and knows more by now.
However, he won’t file an official report unless we ask him to. ”
Tony falls back into his chair, as do Viper and Bianca. Rattler pulls Bianca close to kiss her temple and whisper in her ear. Her giggle speaks volumes.
“Tomorrow is going to be amazing,” Tony says, lifting his beer bottle and tipping it towards Viper and Bianca. “You both are going to add some spice to the show! You’re the perfect models for Zara and me. Our styles are different, but both need strong women to display them.”
“Our pleasure,” Viper says, tipping her beer in response. “I can’t wait to see what you two created.”
I slide my hand over Zara’s knee under the table, squeezing once. She glances at me, and for a second, the noise around us fades. There’s pride in her gaze—but there’s something else too. Gratitude.
Hunter leans forward. “What about show night?”
Tony grins. “Controlled chaos. Lights, music, packed house. Buyers, bloggers, influencers. If everything goes right, we celebrate. If it goes wrong…” He shrugs. “We pretend it didn’t.”
Zara bumps her shoulder against Tony’s. “It won’t go wrong.” The certainty in her voice makes my chest tighten. I like her confidence.
“Not the show,” Hunter says, shaking his head. “I don’t doubt that it will go off without a hitch. I was asking about security. Are we bringing in more men?”
Chrome nods. “Yeah, we’ll be there in force. I’ll assign men outside, too. They’ll stay out of the way, but I don’t want to take risks since there will be a crowd.”
As they drink, I watch her laugh, watch her thank them, watch her talk easily with Bianca about fabrics and with Viper about posture, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
She belongs here.
I grin as I watch her face glow with happiness.
She’s all grown up, and she grew up into a gorgeous woman.
Something shifts inside me as my mind catches up to my heart.
She’s no longer a fifteen-year-old child, but a stunning woman.
I hadn’t thought of her since the day I left Australia, but now that she’s here in Chicago, I can’t stop thinking about her.
Sitting in my clubhouse with her at my side feels right.
In fact, if I’m honest with myself, I’ve struggled since moving to the States.
I always felt like a visitor, but tonight, I feel like I’m home.
Since my eyes are on Zara, I see the yawn she tries to hide. Leaning over, I whisper into her ear.
“You’re exhausted. Ready for bed?”
I can tell she wants to argue, but she can’t deny that she’s exhausted. It’s been a long, stressful, and chaotic day. It’s finally caught up to her.
“I am tired,” she admits.
I stand and help her up, but Chrome gets our attention.
“We didn’t have enough rooms, so we had to do some shuffling,” he says. “Tony’s in Zara’s room.”
I freeze and glance at Tony, who seems okay with the arrangement. Glancing at Zara, she shrugs. “That’s fine. We’ve shared before.”
I know Tony isn’t romantically interested in Zara, but the thought of her sleeping with him has me clutching my hands into fists.
I follow Zara up the stairs to the top floor. When we reach my room, I stop her by putting my hand on her arm. She turns to me with a questioning look.
“Are you okay sleeping with Tony?”
She shrugs. “He’s not interested in me that way, so it’s fine. I get that you have a full house.”
I glance at my door and then back at her. “You could sleep in my room,” I suggest.
She studies my face without answering.
“If you want,” I continue. “Not that I’m pushing, but…” Jeez, I sound like an idiot. Shaking my head, grin at her. “Never mind, I don’t know why…”
She stops my apology with a kiss. Rising to her toes, she presses her soft lips against mine.
When her tiny hands land on my chest, I wrap one arm around her waist while I cup the back of her head with my other hand.
My tongue teases the crease until she opens for me.
I angle my head to deepen the kiss. She’s fucking delicious.
When we break apart, we’re both panting.
“Is that a yes?” I growl.
“No, that’s an about time!” she laughs as she fists my shirt. “I’ve wanted to do that since forever.”
I grin at her. “There’s something else I’d like to do. Maybe we should discuss it inside.”
She matches my smile. “I think that’s a very good idea.”