Chapter 3
three
ISABELLE
I watched Rosie’s son talking to Cole. When he’d approached me, I’d felt like my heart was going to pound out of my chest. He looked just like his picture.
A sweet, young boy, trying his best to swagger and look like a grown-up.
I resisted the urge to tell him his mother was worried about him and try to send him home.
Clearly, Rosie had a reason to be worried, I realized, watching Finn talking to the boss.
He had Cole’s ear, somehow. He had to have all kinds of info on the MC and its illegal goings-on, but unfortunately, Rosie had already told me how she’d tried to get information from him.
He wasn’t spilling any MC secrets. To his mother, anyway.
Maybe I could get him to spill something to a stranger he was trying to impress.
I played around with my handbag, checking that the sleek little listening device, disguised as a stylus, was in there. It was voice activated and had amazing battery life. Should I try to record my conversation with Finn?
Before I could do anything with the pen, Finn headed back toward me after speaking to the boss and his boys. That’s what I’d decided to call the others, until I knew their names, at least. I dropped my bag onto the floor at my feet and turned my smile to him.
“Sorry for the interruption, I’m Finn. Finn Collins,” the boy said, and stuck out his hand for me to shake.
“Nice to meet you,” I returned his smile. Pretending to be interested in a kid hitting on me wouldn’t be a good look, but I could be kind and polite, and hopefully he’d overshare.
“So, you’re the youngest member of the Hounds, right?” I prodded, resuming our previous conversation.
Finn laughed. “Sure am.”
“No, he’s not,” Ronnie said at the same time. She was leaning against the bar behind us, looking bemused by the conversation.
He shot her a scowl and straightened his shoulders, trying to puff himself up. “Well, I will be soon.” He smoothed his hand over his leather vest. Now that I looked at it closer, I noticed it wasn’t the same one that the older guys around us were wearing.
“Don’t tell me you bought yourself an imitation cut?” Ronnie teased Finn. “Are you going to draw on a patch with a sharpie?”
“I have my dad’s, thanks. This is just to get used to wearing one,” Finn protested.
“Keep dreaming, Finn,” she teased with a grin, then went down the bar to serve someone else. He turned to watch her, his face set and determined, and his ears glowing pink. Something white dangling from the bottom of Finn’s leather vest caught my attention.
A tag. My heart swelled. There was something so painfully earnest about him, and his newly bought imitation cut. I reached out and snapped the tag off before he could notice. I hated the thought of him being embarrassed.
Finn sighed and turned back just as I managed to stuff the clothing tag into my handbag.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing. Like I said, I’m on the road to becoming a Hound, it’s just not easy. It has real consequences; once you’re a Hound, you’re a Hound for life and all that,” he sighed. “Cole’s words, not mine.”
“Cole doesn’t want you to be a Hound?” Just saying Cole’s name made me feel self-conscious, like there was a flashing sign over my head, calling me a faker.
“Nope. He’s got some fucking honor-bound duty to make sure I have a good life, whatever that is,” Finn muttered, and then looked pointedly around the bar. “Like this isn’t the best life there is?”
I nodded, unsure what to say. Cole Bailey being noble wasn’t an idea I had prepared myself to consider. Did Rosie know Cole was actively trying to keep Finn out of the MC?
“Maybe he thinks it’s too dangerous. I mean, you guys get into some risky business, don’t you?” I asked carefully. Geez, it sounded like my prep for infiltrating a biker gang was some 1940s gangster movie. Note to self, don’t be such a dork.
My heart started to pound in my chest as Finn nodded.
“Yeah, I mean, of course we do. But I’m not dumb. I know how to keep myself safe.”
‘Yeah, but safe from what kind of thing?” I murmured, not wanting to push too hard, but also seeing an opening.
“What the fuck is going on here?” A cool, hard voice joined the conversation, making me jump. I caught Ronnie’s eyes behind the bar, and she pulled a wary face. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. I could feel it in the way that the people around us straightened up.
“Cole!” Finn lit up and swung around. “I was just talking to—”
“I don’t care, Finn. Get back into the shop, we need to talk,” he growled at the younger guy.
“But I’m having a drink,” Finn protested, and Cole grabbed the glass on the bar and brought it to his nose.
“This better be soda, because I know you’re not risking my liquor license by making my bartenders serve an underage teen, are you?”
“It’s a soft drink,” Ronnie quickly assured her boss.
“Cole!” Finn pushed to his feet. His face was turning red, embarrassed by the scene, and his eyes glittered brightly. He looked like he was about to cry. My heart went out to him again.
“Get into the shop, now. We’ll talk in a minute.” Cole’s voice held no space for refusal.
Finn pushed away from the counter and stormed off without a backward glance. I watched him go and then turned back to find Cole Bailey staring at me, less than three feet away.
My skin prickled everywhere his eyes touched.
Up close, he was even more intense and savagely beautiful.
He was clearly Marcus’ brother, with the same full lips and strong, slashed eyebrows above astute eyes, but that’s where the resemblance ended.
Cole was all hard planes, and tension. He had a scar through his eyebrow, and another near his lip.
There was no softness to that face. Tattoos licked up his neck, framing his strong, hard jaw.
“Got something to say?” he asked in a deep, growling tone, and I jumped. I realized that my mouth was pinched, and I was frowning, every single thought I had written on my face. I needed to say something. Anything.
“Surely there had to be a better way to handle his boyish enthusiasm than shouting at him in front of everyone? People have pride, you know,” I managed to get out.
Whatever possessed me to say what I was actually thinking, I had no idea, but my brain had short-circuited.
The reason for that was standing too damn close.
He was dangerous… I knew that much after all my research, but for some reason, I felt like stepping closer rather than away.
“You come here, into my establishment, to tell me how to talk to my family like you know anything about them after a five-minute conversation?” Cole said slowly. His tone was hewn from stone.
My family? Clearly there was a lot more to Finn and Cole’s relationship than Rosie knew.
“Well, some things are obvious,” I pointed out. My damn cheeks were so hot, they felt like they were on fire.
“Are they?” Cole studied me a little harder. “Do you know what isn’t obvious to me?”
I could have sworn he stepped closer. I gripped the arms of my barstool and tried to look unaffected.
“What?”
“You,” he supplied. “You don’t belong here. Who did you come with?”
“Do I need to come with someone? It’s a free country.”
“Whoever sold you on that lie isn’t my problem. This is a members-only club. Who did you come with?” He leaned one hand on the bar, and I focused on the many tattoos scrolling down his arms.
“It’s members only? There’s no sign on the door.”
“There doesn’t need to be one. If you’re from Hade Harbor, you know The Clutch is the Harbor Hounds clubhouse. That means I need to approve your presence,” he growled and then frowned. “Where the fuck have we met before?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. At HHU? I go to hockey games sometimes. I know Marcus.”
He studied me a little longer. If felt like a safe answer to give, as I knew Cole sometimes went to games to watch his brother play.
He nodded, seemingly satisfied, then picked my bag up from the barstool and handed it to me.
“Here, don’t forget this when you go.” He tugged me to standing.
“What? I’m not ready to go.”
“Too bad. You’re done,” Cole said firmly.
“But why? I haven’t done anything wrong!” I argued with him as he tugged me unceremoniously toward the door. Great, good job, Isabelle. I was really buttering him up and getting information out of him.
“At worst, you’re poking your nose where it doesn’t belong for reasons I don’t even want to think about. At best, you’re chatting up an impressionable seventeen-year-old like a goddamn predator, and I won’t allow it.”
“A what?!” My squeak was so high, it hit the ceiling and bounced. “A predator! He’s the one who keeps coming over to me! I’d never–that’s ridiculous!”
He dragged me across the floor and eyes followed. We’d started to attract some attention.
“He’s not the one I’m interested in!” I managed to get out and found myself jolted to a stop.
My chest pressed into Cole’s. I had to tip my head right back to keep him in my sight.
The man was big and broad and smelled ridiculously good, like pine and woodsmoke, with a hint of grease and leather.
It was overwhelmingly masculine in a way I’d never encountered before.
I wanted to stick my nose into his leather jacket and inhale for an hour.
“Oh, he isn’t, is he?” Cole stared down at me. His eyes were so insanely blue, I was drowning in them.
“Who is it then? Who are you here for?” he added, a touch softer and less intimidating, but still commanding.
I opened my mouth to reply, and drew a blank. What the fuck was I supposed to say?
Luckily, I didn’t have to think about it too hard, since the front doors slammed open and some guys walked in.
Cole stiffened beside me, his attention immediately diverted. Cool wind blew in behind them and seemed to wash over the place. Everyone stilled.
“Bailey–you think you can steal my suppliers?” one of them demanded and pointed something at Cole and me.