Chapter 12 Noelle
NOELLE
I sat and tried to enjoy the soup I’d helped cook.
Some of the other bikers I’d seen come and go throughout the week had rushed in, grabbed most of the soup, and vanished again.
“I thought you said the soup was for people in town?” I swirled my spoon around the bowl.
The warm fragrance of cooked meat and vegetables caused my stomach to grumble.
Ash chewed a bite of meat and watched me through hooded eyes. “You really think the townspeople are going to come here for food?”
When he put it like that…
I sipped the broth off my spoon and continued making slow circles around the rim of the bowl until it made a tinny sound reminiscent of a gong.
I angled a look at Rafe, who sat across from me at the head of the rectangular table. “Why are you so determined to keep everyone, especially the townspeople, at arm’s length?”
Rafe sat with his back straight, elbows on the table, and a large bowl between his broad hands.
Bishop and Ash sat on either side of him, and both men flinched just enough to offer me a warning.
What had I said that was wrong?
I took another slow sip of the flavorful broth.
I’d never made anything like this before, and I wouldn’t have managed this time without Colt’s directions.
He really knew his stuff and had kept me on task throughout the entire process.
It had been nice to joke around with him.
Of all the men I’d met during my time here, Colt felt the most like a friend.
Maybe I could use that to my advantage.
Colt, being the youngest of the group, was also the most vulnerable.
And since Rafe was his older brother, he probably had more insight into what happened behind closed doors.
It was what happened in the warehouses that I needed to find out.
Colt seemed eager to please, and even though I hated using him, I’d do just about anything to keep my job and finally gain the respect of my peers.
I deserved it after all the bullshit they put me through.
Not that they cared.
They were a bunch of egotistical pricks, and I was better off trying to impress a hedgehog than the men who were supposed to be part of my team.
I shoved thoughts of them aside.
I needed to focus on the job and getting Rafe to open up.
If I could get him to trust me, even a little bit, he might give up the necessary information without even meaning to.
I took Rafe so long to respond to my question that I considered asking it again.
Rafe downed a bite of soup and wiped his mouth with the linen napkin I’d set next to his and everyone else’s bowls when I set the table before joining Bishop next to the fireplace.
My gaze shot to him and lingered.
Our time by the fire showed me a depth to Bishop that I’d not expected.
They were all more than I anticipated, more than I gave them credit for.
Rafe shifted in his chair and pointed his spoon in my direction. “You’re the reporter.”
The reminder shot through me like lightning. “So?”
“So.” He flashed a dangerous smile. “Figure it out.”
I huffed but resisted the urge to pout and cross my arms. “I don’t get it. Not any of it. You could clear things up easily enough, but you choose not to. It would go a long way with the townspeople and local law enforcement if people realized all the nice things you do around town.”
They helped the old and infirm, for Christ’s sake! Bishop carved wooden toys for kids like some kind of biker Santa.
“The people who need to know, do.” Rafe spooned up another bite and ate it, his brows drawn together in a harsh V.
I’d come to expect this attitude from him, but Bishop and Ash’s continued silence bothered me.
Did they agree with Rafe or did their opinions not matter to him?
The fire popped behind us, the sound muted over the constant scrape of cutlery on ceramic.
I ran my finger along a scratch in the tabletop.
A dark spot covered an area the size of my hand, and I wondered briefly if it was a bloodstain.
Deciding not to follow that line of thought, I hauled myself back to my current line of questioning. “If people stopped blaming you for all the bad things that happened in town, like the blackout, then you’d have a chance to help even more people.”
My attempt to appeal to his pride and his devotion to helping others fell on deaf ears.
Rafe stopped eating and stared me down.
His eyes turned cold, much like they’d been when he confronted the townspeople. “How do you know we didn’t cause the blackout?”
He motioned at the space around us.
The large kitchen housing the industrial gas stove and refrigerator running off a generator, Colt had showed me, gave off a low hum.
The candles and lamps I’d lit caused flickers of light to dance over the dark walls and created what I’d hoped would be a cozy atmosphere.
A chill skittered down my spine and swept across my fingertips, forcing me to clench them around the spoon before I dropped it in my bowl.
My brain scrambled for an answer to his question. “You can’t be. I was with you. The power was on when we left.”
I stopped as my rational, detective mind overruled my chaotic, emotional one.
Rafe had other people in the Steel Vipers.
The three of them were not the only men who needed watching. “Did you?” My question came out as a whisper.
They all heard me.
The kitchen was deathly silent except for the occasional rasp of fire eating through another log and the following crack and tumble of wood falling from Ash’s carefully constructed pyramid.
I locked eyes with Rafe, willing him to give me a straight answer. “I’m the reporter. You said so yourself. I can’t figure anything out if people keep lying to me.”
The implication that they lied to me landed hard enough to cause Ash to raise his eyebrows.
He picked up his glass and took a long drink of whatever Colt had poured into it.
I had ice water, but I doubted any of them were drinking anything lighter than vodka.
Rafe snorted.
Bishop picked up his bowl and drank straight from the edge, his throat working in a series of gulps as he finished the hot meal.
“I’m just trying to understand.” I reiterated my point without looking away from Rafe. “What if you decorate the clubhouse?”
Rafe’s nostrils flared. “Excuse me?”
I’d gone too far to back down or stop, so I plowed ahead. “What if you decorated for Christmas? Everyone loves Christmas. You put up a few lights, maybe put a tree in the window, and boom.”
I waved my hands and tried not to smile at the thought of turning this place into a Christmas wonderland. “Seeing the club celebrate Christmas with them will make you a part of the community.”
Colt walked in through the side door.
The instant he heard me, he started shaking his head and slashing a hand back and forth over his throat in a ‘stop talking’ gesture.
I did, but only because I’d finished what I wanted to say.
Colt’s warning look proved one thing.
I really needed to stop pressing Rafe.
He sat so still and silent that it brought a new kind of awareness to the situation.
The coldness I’d felt from him moments ago turned arctic.
A trip beneath the freezing waters of Alaska couldn’t be colder than the way he watched me.
I’d seen hunger and desire in his eyes before. I enjoyed those.
This… This sent a wave of unease into my belly.
I sat back and rested my wrists on the table. It took some effort, but I managed to raise my lips in a teasing grin. “You act like such a Grinch that people believe it.”
The room turned to stone.
No one moved or blinked. I’d learned to appreciate silence, but not this kind.
This silence promised retribution.
I resisted the urge to check that my wire was still in place.
I’d worn it all day without any trouble, but I’d also not bothered too much with worrying over what the guys on the other side might hear.
All this talk about how they were perceived might lead to the information that I’d been sent to find.
My one regret was that they’d all heard Bishop confess to his past.
It was a noble past, an honorable thing he’d done to save his fellow soldiers.
I wasn’t sure any of the detectives I worked with had that kind of loyalty and honor.
They didn’t for me.
I knew damned well they’d leave me here to rot if things went sideways.
No one would come to rescue me if Rafe or the others found out I was a detective.
My pulse kicked up a notch, and my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I ignored it.
I ignored everything except the way Rafe looked at me. “Would it be so bad for people to know the real you?”
Rafe stood so fast his chair toppled over and hit the floor with a bang that reverberated through the room.
Colt took a step toward us, but a glare from Bishop and Ash halted him in his tracks.
Rafe rested his palms on the table and leaned toward me. “You obviously don’t know your place here.”
“My place?” I snorted a cynical laugh. “I’m a reporter. My place is finding the truth, as you so elegantly pointed out. My place is writing articles that tell the truth about the Steel Vipers. What am I supposed to write about today?”
“Nothing.” Rafe pointed a long finger at me. “You are not going to write anything about today.”
I smirked, even though I knew it was a horrible, horrible idea. “See what I mean? You’re being a total Grinch.”
Rafe grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet. “I’ve had it up to fucking here with your smart mouth.” He slashed a hand across his throat. “You haven’t learned your place. It’s time I teach it to you.”
He walked around the table, coming right up into my space and bending me toward him with my arm twisting behind my back.
Before I could understand his anger or his intentions, he spun us both around and marched me toward the stairs between the kitchen and the living area.
I shifted far enough to look over my shoulder.
Surely, Bishop or Ash would stop him. My wrist ached, and I tried to twist away. “What are you doing?”
“Teaching you a lesson.”
His gruff voice filled my ear and sent my thoughts spiraling out of control.
What if I’d been wrong this whole time and Rafe was an absolute psycho?
He had all the power.
I met Bishop’s gaze, then Ash’s.
Both men sat where we’d left them.
Bishop closed his eyes and shook his head, a breath parting his lips.
Ash tapped his fingers to his forehead in a mockery of a salute.
Was that supposed to make me feel better?
If anything, it made the nausea and fear worse.
That blatant disregard for my well-being meant he didn’t care about me at all.
Of course he didn’t.
I meant nothing to them.
Having sex and being taken out on the road with them meant nothing.
No one cared.
No one was coming to save me.
The wire I’d been wearing every day since I arrived tugged across my navel when Rafe turned me sharply to the left and pushed me onto the stairs ahead of him.
“Rafe.” My voice quavered. “What are you going to do?”
A low chuckle warmed my ear. “Whatever I want.”
I tried once more to find Bishop, Ash, or even Colt in the kitchen.
Even Colt—the one who’d warned me to stop talking—looked away when he saw the panic in my eyes.