Chapter 2
NOELLE
Play it off, Noelle.
I had one chance to make this real.
I slammed a hand to my throat and let out a squeak. “Oh my gosh, you scared me to death.”
I’d played around with different potential roles for this, considering everything from the cliche ditzy blonde persona to a polite but controlled epitome of fastidiousness.
In the end, I knew I’d never be able to follow through for any amount of time unless I simply stayed true to myself.
A thick black eyebrow arched. “And yet you’re still standing there, staring.”
I dropped my hand and ducked my head with a genuine display of chagrin. “Sorry. I’m new in town. I heard about the party tonight from one of my coworkers.”
I stuck out my hand and grinned. “I’m Noelle. Reporter for Rapid Evolution.”
He eyed my hand and tucked his into his pockets.
No curiosity or intrigue gave me an excuse to stick around, but I refused to give up.
My career was on the line, and it would take a damned sight more than one recalcitrant biker to make me turn tail and run.
I lowered my hand and took a slow look around the room, completely ignoring his declaration that the place was off limits.
He hadn’t told me to leave, so I chose to stay.
“I heard the Steel Vipers were a dangerous crowd.” I cocked my head to the side and examined him from the tips of his black boots to the top of his coal-black hair.
Long strands fell forward over his eyes, the shaggy undercut meeting up with a five o’clock shadow that accentuated his strong jaw and jutting chin.
“If you heard that, why are you here?” His voice was a low growl that bordered on sinful.
I lifted one shoulder and let it fall like I couldn’t care less about the danger I might be in.
Truth be told, my heart had been threatening to burst since the moment he stood up from behind the thick mahogany desk covered in that same unique scrollwork I’d seen on the door.
It reminded me of something from an Edgar Allan Poe poem. “I have this problem where I don’t believe everything I hear. I like to find things out for myself. Take you, for example.”
Knowing my fellow detectives were listening in, I emphasized my next words. “Rafe Maddox, leader of the Steel Vipers. The papers call you a menace to society, the leader of a biker gang known to cause chaos and suspected of smuggling illegal substances.”
He remained completely silent, but he crossed his arms.
Defensive move or a sign of guilt?
I’d learned how to read body language, but Rafe gave off mixed signals that made it impossible to understand him. “I personally believe you’re not that bad.”
Would he believe the lie?
I had no thoughts one way or the other and chose to reserve judgment until I had facts.
But stroking a man’s ego usually helped them loosen up.
He took a single step toward me.
I’d never seen a man move with that kind of powerful grace.
It was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.
He twirled his finger in a circle. “Let’s go.”
Confusion brought my eyebrows down. “Excuse me?”
He took me by the arm–in a surprisingly gentle way–and steered me around to face the door.
As soon as I turned away from him, his hand settled in the small of my back in a touch I felt all the way through my spine and into the pit of my stomach.
“You’re not kicking me out, are you? I swear I didn’t know that was your office.” I forced words out in a rush, plying him with a pleading look. “I’m really sorry for intruding, but I really need this story.”
I didn’t let myself think about what Captain Delaney might think of my next words. “My boss is a total ass, and he’s making me write this article. I want to do justice to the whole thing, you know? Anyone can write a shit piece that makes you out to be bad guys, but I want to know the truth.”
His fingertips dug into my skin an instant before his hand fell away. “Our reputation is far too excessive to be undone by one article.”
I forced my laugh to come out light and cheerful. “Then you’ve never read one of my articles.”
No one had.
Because I was a fucking detective and I’d never written a journal piece in my life.
Playing it cool became increasingly more difficult when Rafe loomed at my back.
His scent rushed over me when we passed an overhead vent that pumped hot air into the hallway.
If sin had a scent, it would be Rafe.
Dark and spicy, with an undertone of pine that lingered in the back of my throat.
“It’s not necessary.”
I was losing him.
If I’d even had a chance to begin with, which was unlikely.
I spun on my heels.
We stood at the top of the stairs, and the move put me on the edge, forcing me to lean my weight forward or topple down the stairs backward.
Rafe hooked an arm around my waist, a flash of concern zipping across his face as he guided me to a safer spot near the balcony railing.
From here, the entire bar scene spread out below us.
I risked a look down before focusing on Rafe. “Listen, I’ve heard all about the Steel Vipers. People talk shit about you because you’re an easy target. Well, maybe easy is the wrong word. You’re a biker gang and people love to talk smack. They see you as a menace. I can help with that.”
“Why would I want that?” He stared down at me, his face expressionless as stone. “Why would I want a reporter snooping around?”
It was the question I’d had the most trouble finding an answer to as I rehearsed my cover story.
Why would a biker gang want to be seen as anything else? “Because.” I paused and gulped. “Because you’re having trouble with local law enforcement. Just last week, one of your guys was arrested for breaking and entering, even though he had an alibi that put him on the other side of town.”
He’d been jumped while incarcerated and almost beaten to death before the charges were dropped and the right man was arrested.
I pressed my lips together before I gave away too much information.
It was a fine line between information a reporter versus a law enforcement officer might know.
“You think you can help take the heat off my guys with some news reports?”
Was I crazy or did he sound curious?
I’d spent the entire day learning as much about motorcycle gangs, and the Steel Vipers in particular, to have an idea of what might tempt him to let me into their club.
But nothing had prepared me for the sheer intimidation factor that radiated off Rafe.
I took my time answering, knowing he’d listen and weigh every word. “I wish I could make promises. My goal is to find the truth.” That part was easy enough to make genuine.
Men in Rafe’s position often excelled at the bad boy image.
Most biker gangs thrived on being a menace to society, but my deep dive into Rafe’s gang showed they had unique links to the community.
Their annual toy drive, for example.
And the fact that two years ago, they’d all shown up at the local elementary school to help one of the kids there confront their bully and abuser.
Those things were not the actions of bad men.
Did that make them good men?
Only time would tell.
“We have some beef with another gang. You’ll need to watch out for them. If they think you’re giving us preferential treatment, they’ll have a lot of shit to say about you.” He really was considering it.
His eyes remained flat and empty, but the flatness of his lips eased.
He gripped the balcony railing with one hand, then beckoned me toward the stairs. “I need to join the party.”
“What about me?” I fluttered a hand near my throat.
He’d indicated the rival gang but had not given me much to go on otherwise.
Rafe looked me over in that head to toe sweep that I usually hated.
He nodded, and I swore I caught a feral gleam in his eyes before he whisked it away with a blink. “You can join us and write your articles. On one condition.”
“Anything.” It came out way too breathless for my liking, but who the hell cared?
I’d sworn to do my job by whatever means necessary.
Rafe guided me down the steps in front of him.
The instant his tall figure came into view of the bar, the music stopped.
Every head turned in our direction, but no one looked at me. Every eye locked onto Rafe.
What would it be like to have that kind of power over people?
They stared at him with affection, fear, and loyalty.
All I ever got from my coworkers were jeers and insinuations that I’d be better off working at the local donut shop where my body shape fit in.
“Thank you all for coming out tonight. I realize the Christmas party is a little early this year, but I have a special surprise.” He clasped my bare shoulders.
Heat zapped through me, an electric shock traveling all the way to my toes.
My mouth fell open in a partial gasp before I managed to control it.
“This is Noelle, a reporter for the local paper. She’s going to be interviewing some of you for a series of articles meant to help improve our standing with locals and law enforcement.” Every word hammered home the depth of my deception.
Wait, what did he mean a series of articles?
A hint of a smile teased his voice from that husky timbre to something as soft as velvet. “She is my Christmas gift, one meant to be shared.”
I shivered beneath the intensity of a dozen men swiveling their attention from Rafe to me.
Hunger shone in many of their faces.
Bryce bit his lower lip and winked at me.
Two men toward the back of the room snatched my attention.
Ash and Bishop stood near a set of pool tables.
Both wore matching shocked expressions that proved what Rafe just did was not normal.
“What do you mean?” I leaned into Rafe’s chest and hissed the words at him.
He nudged me forward with a thrust of his hips, walking me through the crowd toward Ash and Bishop.
Both men dropped their pool sticks onto the nearest table and moved to meet us halfway.
Rafe’s hand shifted from my shoulder to the back of my neck.
There was a possessiveness, a hint of needing control, in the way he steered me with his grip.
“Noelle, I’d like you to meet Ash and Bishop. You’ll be working closely with them for your articles. If you have any questions, I’d prefer you talk to them.” Rafe squeezed my neck.
Again, his gentleness despite the grip surprised me. His thumb stroked the side of my throat where my pulse beat a wild tattoo.
A hum of energy tingled from the point of contact.
Ash grabbed my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist. “Well, this is a surprise.”
He winked before shifting his attention to Rafe. “I didn’t get you anything.”
Rafe grunted and released my neck. “Make sure she stays out of trouble and does what she’s told. All articles are to be approved by myself or Bishop before they’re sent to your editor.”
“My editor has carte blanche when it comes to editing.” I hustled to cover my tracks. “Even if you read my articles, he’s allowed to change them as he sees fit.”
“Not this time.” Rafe met my eyes. “Either your editor agrees to publish what you’ve written, exactly as you’ve written it, or the whole thing is off.”
“I’ll tell him.” There was no him but it had sounded good, even authentic, to throw up a potential roadblock.
Rafe nodded and turned away. “I’ll be upstairs. I’m not to be disturbed.”
What had I gotten myself into?
I’d never envisioned myself in this situation.
How could I?
For the first time in my life, I was in over my head.