4. Hunter
Chapter Four
HUNTER
I wake at dawn, my body stiff from a night on the too-small couch. Risky is nowhere to be seen, which means he's still upstairs with Trinity. Smart boy.
Trinity.
Her name sends a jolt through my system. I shouldn't have brought her here. I definitely shouldn't have pretended to be Holloway. But when she stepped off that bus, something in me snapped. I couldn't let her walk into Holloway's trap, but I'd set one of my own instead.
I'm not sure which of us is the bigger asshole.
Coffee first, then a plan. I move quietly around the kitchen, hoping not to wake her. But as I reach for mugs, I hear the soft creak of floorboards. Trinity appears at the top of the stairs, in a T-shirt and jeans, hair damp from the shower. Risky trots happily behind her.
“Morning.” I’m trying to sound casual, like I didn't spend half the night lying awake thinking about her upstairs in my guest room.
“Morning.” Her voice is guarded, but she comes down the stairs, Risky at her heels. “I should get back to town today.”
I pour coffee into two mugs. “After breakfast. You need to eat.”
She looks like she wants to argue but takes the coffee I offer. Our fingers brush, and that electric current zings through me again. I wonder if she feels it too. From the way she quickly pulls her hand back, I'd say yes.
“I heard from Marcus this morning. He found out some stuff about Holloway.” I say, turning back to the stove where I'm frying bacon.
“And?” She leans against the counter, keeping a careful distance between us.
“He's got a record. Domestic battery charges that got dropped when witnesses suddenly refused to testify. Two different counties.”
Trinity's face pales slightly, but she lifts her chin. “I appreciate the warning, but I can handle myself.”
“Never said you couldn't, sweetheart.” I flip the bacon, trying not to stare at the way her jeans hug her curves. “But everyone needs backup…”
She sips her coffee. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you've got options beyond Holloway. The Ridge Renegades have connections. We can get you set up somewhere else if you want. Job, place to stay. No strings attached.”
“Why would you do that for a stranger?”
I meet her eyes. “Because it's the right thing to do.”
She studies me for a long moment. “There's always a price.”
Those words tell me more about her past than any explanation could. Someone taught her that help always comes with strings attached. My hands tighten around the spatula.
“Not this time.”
We eat breakfast in relative silence. My gaze keeps drifting to her; the careful way she cuts her food, how she keeps checking the window. It makes me want to find whoever put that wariness in her eyes and introduce them to my fists.
“How old are you?” she asks suddenly.
“Thirty-two. Why?”
She shrugs. “Just curious, I guess.”
Twelve years between us. Not that it matters, since nothing's going to happen. Still, the knowledge sits uncomfortably in my gut. She's so damn young, barely into adulthood, while I've been around the block enough times to wear a path.
My phone chimes. It's Viper, the club's sergeant-at-arms:
Viper: Meeting at 1. Mandatory.
Shit.
“I have to go to a club meeting this afternoon. I want you to stay here until I get back.”
She hesitates, then nods.
Relief washes through me. I’m not ready to let her go. I don’t know if I can,
After breakfast, I show her around the property.
The morning is crisp, sunlight filtering through the pines.
Trinity revels in being outside, her shoulders losing some tension as she breathes in the mountain air.
We walk along the edge of the forest, Risky bounding ahead of us to investigate interesting smells.
“It's so gorgeous out here,” she smiles up at me and my chest tightens.
“Best place on earth, Ember Heart Ridge. My brothers and I built a bunch of these cabins ourselves.”
“All seven of you?”
“Well, Zander was still pretty young, but he helped hand us nails and stuff.” The memory makes me smile. “Mom brought us lunch every day. Said she needed to be sure we weren't building a death trap. That was before Marcus fell off the roof. Twice.”
Trinity laughs, the sound making my chest tighten. It's the first genuine laugh I've heard from her, and it transforms her face, making her look closer to her actual age rather than the old-soul weariness she usually wears.
“Your family sounds nice.”
“They're nosy as hell, but yeah, they're good people. You could meet them. If you wanted.”
She looks startled. “Why would I do that?”
“Mom's making her famous pot roast tonight. And they'd give you a better picture of me than whatever you've put together in your head.”
“Which is?”
“ A kidnapping biker asshole with boundary issues?”
That earns me another small smile. “Pretty accurate assessment.”
We circle back to the cabin.
“There's food in the fridge. Make yourself at home. TV works if you want it. And Risky likes company.”
The dog, hearing his name, wags his tail and presses against Trinity's leg. She scratches his ears. “We'll be fine. Go to your meeting.”
I shower and change into leather pants and a fresh sweatshirt, throwing my cut over the top. Before leaving, I check on Trinity. She's curled up on the couch with one of my paperbacks, Risky dozing at her feet. The scene is so domestic it makes my heart glow.
“Won't be long.Two hours, max. Don’t answer the door.”
She nods without looking up. “Drive safe.”
The Rusty Nail is already packed when I arrive. I park my bike alongside the row of others and head inside. The club owns the bar, and the back room serves as our meeting space. My MC brothers nod greetings as I pass, a few giving me knowing looks.
Word travels fast in this county.
Viper corners me before I can reach the meeting room. “You got her?” he asks without preamble.
“Yeah.”
“Where is she now?”
“My place.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Holloway's been all over town looking for her. Came into the bar last night drunk off his ass, saying someone stole his mail-order bride.”
“She's not his fucking property,” I growl.
Viper claps me on the shoulder. “I know that, brother. Just saying, you might have started something here.”
The meeting starts with routine business. Territory discussions, updates from other chapters, bike maintenance. I'm only half-listening, my mind back at the cabin with Trinity.
“Blake!” The president's voice snaps me to attention. “Something you want to share with the group?”
All eyes turn to me. Prez gives me a pointed look. Word's gotten around.
I stand. “I do. Anyone know what Holloway’s deal is? Beyond the domestic cases?”
Viper leans forward. “Rumor is he's running product for a cartel,” he says, naming a group we’ve been keeping tabs on. “Nothing confirmed, but he's been flush with cash lately.”
“He moves weight, he's doing it in our jurisdiction without permission,” another brother chimes in. “That makes it our business.”
Prez nods. “We'll look into it. But that's not why you're asking, is it, Hunter?”
I meet his gaze. “Holloway was expecting a bride yesterday. She's staying with me instead.”
A low whistle goes around the room, followed by a few chuckles.
“Gettin’ married, Blake?” someone calls. Another joker starts to sing the wedding march.
I ignore them. “She's only twenty. And running from something. Or someone. And now she's caught between me and Holloway.”
Prez's expression turns serious. “You sure you want to get involved in this? The girl could be trouble.”
“Too late. I'm already involved.”
The teasing continues after the meeting adjourns. I take it with a smile, but inside I'm seething. Trinity isn't some joke. She's a beautiful, scared girl who needed help, and I’ve complicated things by dragging her into my life.
Viper pulls me aside as I'm heading for my bike. "Word is Holloway's meeting with the cartel tonight. Might be best to keep your girl out of town for a few days.”
“She's not my girl.”
“Tell that to your face when you talk about her.” Viper smirks. “Just be careful, brother. That age gap's a hell of a thing.”
I bristle. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Just saying, she's young. Probably looking for a daddy, not a boyfriend.”
The words hit harder than they should. “Fuck off, Viper.”
His laughter follows me out the door.
The sun is low by the time I get back to the cabin, painting the trees gold. For a terrible moment, Trinity's gone. Then relief floods through me; she’s sitting on the porch steps, Risky's head on her feet. She's gazing out at the view, lost in thought. I cut the engine, and her head turns.
I climb off the bike, pulling off my helmet. “Everything okay here?”
“Fine. Risky and I went for a walk.” She turns to look at me. “Why are you doing this, Hunter? The truth this time.”
I could lie. Say something about being a good Samaritan. But she deserves better than that.
“Because when I saw you get off that bus, looking so damn gorgeous and brave and scared all at once, I wanted to protect you. And when I found out about Holloway, I couldn't let you walk into that.”
She's quiet for a long moment. “My ex. He wasn't a good person. I saw something I shouldn't have, and I had to run.”
“Is he looking for you?”
“Yes.” The word is barely a whisper.
“He won't find you out here. And the Ridge Renegades protect their own.”
“But I'm not one of yours.”
“You could be.”
Her eyes widen. “What does that mean?”
Good question. I'm not entirely sure myself. “It means you have people in your corner now. If you want them.”
Trinity looks away, but not before I catch the sheen of tears in her eyes. “I don't know how to trust anyone, Hunter.”
“I know. But maybe you can start small. Trust Risky. He's got good instincts.”
That earns me a small smile. “He is a very good boy.”
“The best. The offer for dinner at my family's place still stands. My mom makes enough food to feed an army.”
“Yes. I'll go to dinner with you.” She looks up at me through her lashes and smiles. “But this isn’t a date.”
I hold up my hands. “Got it.”
But that's a lie too. Because when she smiles at me like that, all I have are ideas. Ideas about how her lips would taste, how her tits would feel pressed against me, how her voice might sound crying out my name.
“I should clean up if we're going out.” She stands.
I nod. As she turns to go inside, I catch her arm gently. “Trinity.”
She looks at me questioningly, and before I can overthink it, I lean in and press my lips to hers. It's soft, barely there, giving her every chance to pull away. But she doesn't. Instead, she freezes for a heartbeat, then melts against me, her mouth opening slightly under mine.
The moment her lips part, something snaps inside me.
I slide my hand up to cup the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her soft hair, and deepen the kiss.
She makes a small sound in the back of her throat, half surprise, half pleasure, that has my cock pressing harder against my zipper.
I back her against the porch post, my body pressing against hers, feeling every soft curve against my harder ones.
Her hands tentatively move to my chest, and I'm sure she's about to push me away, but instead her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer. I trace my tongue along her bottom lip, and when she opens for me, I groan low in my throat.
I slide my free hand to her waist, thumb brushing the sliver of skin where the buttons of her dress gape.
Her skin is impossibly soft, and she shivers under my touch.
The kiss turns hungrier, more demanding.
When I nip gently at her bottom lip, she whimpers and arches against me, those soft tits pressing against my chest.
It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to pull back, breathing hard, my body screaming in protest. Her pupils are dilated, lips swollen and red from my stubble, cheeks flushed. I've never seen anything more beautiful.
“What was that for?” she whispers, her voice husky in a way that makes me want to carry her straight to my bed.
“Because I've been wanting to since you got off that bus. Fuck, since I first saw your photograph. And because I needed you to know that this, whatever it is, isn't about protecting you or feeling sorry for you. It's about wanting you. Even though I shouldn't.”
She swallows, her hand coming up to touch her lips as if she can still feel mine there. “I... I should get ready.”
I step back. As she disappears inside, Risky gives me a surprised look.
“I know, boy,” I murmur. “I'm in big trouble.”