Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
STRYKER
Isteer my bike through the dark streets of Port Royal. Soraya holds tight on the back, her arms wrapped securely around my waist. I have ridden this exact route to the Rebel Kings clubhouse thousands of times, but having her behind me changes everything.
I can’t help but focus on her soft curves pressed flush against my hard back. Her radiant warmth cuts straight through the biting night air. I feel a subtle, continuous trembling in her frame; a potent mix of shock from her shop being vandalized and the high-voltage adrenaline of the ride.
Pulling into the expansive clubhouse lot, I cut the engine. I reach back to help Soraya dismount. As soon as her boots hit the gravel, her legs buckle from the residual adrenaline. She stumbles directly into my chest, and I catch her, like I always will.
"Virgin?" I ask casually.
Her hazel eyes widen in pure embarrassment. "H-how did you know?"
"Because you're trembling. Was that your first ride?"
Realization dawns on her face. Her blush deepens into crimson in the dim yard lights. "Oh, right," she stammers quickly. "Yes. First motorcycle ride."
I freeze. She thought… she thought I was asking if she was a virgin?
The sudden revelation triggers an overwhelming wave of dark possessiveness and pure lust. I envision taking her right here.
I picture my rough, darkened hands trailing across her porcelain skin, gripping her full hips, plush thighs, and soft belly.
I want to worship every single inch of her full, curvy figure.
Soraya clears her throat softly, snapping me out of the dangerous trance.
I realize I still have her trapped against my body, her heartbeat racing against my chest. I force myself to step back, though I feel an undeniable shift deep in my chest. A piece of my tattered heart permanently breaks off. It belongs to her now.
I lead my woman inside the main clubhouse room. My MC brothers immediately call out from the bar and the pool tables. They greet me loudly, asking questions about the street brawl and the extent of the damage to local businesses.
"Phoenix is hunting down the bastards responsible," I bark over the noise. "He will get answers."
"Who are you hiding?" a brother asks from a nearby table.
I glance down beside me. Soraya is shrinking back. trying to make herself completely invisible against the loud, chaotic room. Seeing the sheer terror in her eyes hits me hard. I remember what little information she let slip about needing protection.
I realize how overwhelming and overstimulating this gritty environment is for her. A sharp spike of self-loathing hits me in the gut. I should have taken her through the private side entrance straight to my apartment.
We lock eyes. I give her a slow, reassuring nod before wrapping a protective arm tight around her waist. I tuck her flush against my side to shield her from the leering room. She must feel the weight of every eye in the room on us.
I pitch my voice into a dangerous growl, delivering a clear warning to the entire room. "She’s mine, and nobody touches her."
The announcement is met with absolute shock.
Disbelief washes over the faces of my men.
A few subtle snickers from a table in the back corner catch my attention, but I ignore them completely.
Who gives a fuck about what they think? I have the most precious woman by my side. And I’m already fucking it up.
The crowd parts like the Red Sea. I lead her straight through the chaos to the back hallway.
We step into my small studio apartment, and I lock the door behind us. Soraya sits on the very edge of my mattress, rigid and trembling, taking shallow breaths as thick tears well up in her beautiful eyes.
Frustrated with my own stupidity, I mutter a harsh curse under my breath. Soraya flinches hard. Shit, she thinks my anger is being directed squarely at her.
I drop immediately to my knees in front of her. This marks only the second time in my entire life I’ve knelt in front of someone, both times for her. Rebel Kings bow to no one, except our queens.
I hold up both hands to prove I’m non-threatening. Normally, I bark orders and snarl out threats, but right now, I’m trying like hell to intentionally soften my tone. "I’m sorry, Soraya. I’m angry with myself, not you. I should have used the quieter side entrance."
Soraya lowers her head. "I get it," she whispers brokenly. "So no one would see me."
My chest tightens painfully. I gently lift her hand, tracing her soft knuckles with my thumb before bringing them to my lips. I press a firm kiss to her skin, then look deep into her eyes, making sure she hears every single word.
"I would never be ashamed of you. I only wanted to spare you the overwhelming noise and chaos out there. I wish I had created a peaceful entry for you."
She tilts her head, completely stunned. I can see the gears turning in her mind.
It’s evident no one has ever read her so accurately, or truly cared about her safety.
The realization solidifies my resolve. She will be mine.
I know it, my club now knows it, and soon, Soraya herself will understand what it means to be protected and loved by a ruthless MC President.
I sense the emotional intensity is becoming too much for her to process, which makes sense. She’s been through hell, going from terrified to heartbroken to completely overstimulated in a span of thirty minutes.
I force myself to step back, though it’s harder than I thought it would be. One day, my woman will know she can come to me with anything, everything, and I will accept her exactly as she is. Tears, laughter, pain, or peace, I want it all.
Instead of telling her my insanely possessive thoughts, I point toward the en suite bathroom. "Take a hot shower. Grab any oversized shirt you want from my dresser." I turn toward the door. "I’m going out to the bar to give you some space."
I walk back out to the main bar area. Wolf and Viper are already waiting for me. My Vice President and my Road Captain stare me down. When I narrow my eyes at their staring, Viper looks away. Wolf remains completely steady.
"Who’s the woman?" Wolf asks directly.
"Mine," I answer.
Viper rolls his eyes and takes a long drink of his beer. "Everyone got that message earlier."
Wolf doesn’t drop it. He demands the actual backstory. I briefly explain finding her crouched in her shop after the window was smashed during the brawl. Wolf frowns deeply.
“And…? I understand wanting to make sure she’s okay, and maybe giving her a ride home or something. But bringing a civilian back to the club? Especially when we’re dealing with all the shipping bullshit? I don’t know, Stryker. I just don’t see the advantage.”
I order a beer to stall for time, but Wolf never lets up on his questions, maintaining his defensive glare the entire time. Finally, I admit the truth. "I saw her a week ago. When I stepped into her floral shop."
Viper barks out a loud, obnoxious laugh. He slaps his hand down flat on the sticky bar top. "You?" he wheezes. He points a finger directly at my chest. "The big, bad President of the Rebel Kings went into a flower shop?"
I shoot him a dark, withering look. I do not find this funny.
"Oh, this is rich," Viper continues. He wipes a fake tear from his eye. "Did you stop to smell the roses, Stryker? Maybe pick out a nice little bouquet of daisies?"
A low, warning grunt vibrates in the back of my throat. I grip my beer bottle so tight, I worry I might break the thick glass.
"Wait, wait, let me guess," Viper taunts. He leans in closer with a massive grin. "She batted her pretty eyelashes and our fearless leader just melted right there into the fertilizer."
I let out another harsh grunt. My jaw clenches tight. I glare at him with enough heat to melt steel.
Wolf ignores the entire display. He continues analyzing the situation with cold precision. Viper eventually shrugs off his amusement and suggests we get another round.
I decline, citing club business.
Viper winks and wiggles his thick eyebrows. "We all know what that means."
The flare of rage is instant. I step up, going chest-to-chest with my Road Captain.
Wolf places a heavy hand on my shoulder, silently signaling that it’s not worth the fight. I roll my shoulders back and step away. Viper backs off quickly, realizing he just poked a very dangerous bear.
I turn to head back toward my apartment when Wolf stops me. "Is keeping a civilian woman under club protection really a smart idea?"
I take a long, deep breath, and look my VP dead in the eye. "One day, you’ll understand what it's like to have someone worth risking everything for."
Wolf lets out a bitter, cynical laugh. I leave him standing there and walk away in total silence.
Opening my bedroom door as softly as possible, I find Soraya fast asleep in my bed. She’s wearing one of my black shirts, her damp auburn hair brushed back from her face. The beautiful, mysterious woman is breathing deeply and slowly, her eyes closed as she rests peacefully.
A profound, heavy sense of satisfaction settles deep in my chest. Despite the chaos of the night, I made her feel safe enough to fall asleep in an unfamiliar, potentially dangerous place.
I kick off my heavy boots, cross the small room, and squeeze my six-foot-six frame onto the tiny, worn couch. It’s incredibly uncomfortable, but I don’t give a shit. I would sleep anywhere as long as Soraya is protected and cared for.