Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
LAINEY
PRESENT DAY
I can feel his eyes on me, but I attempt to ignore him. Again. All I do is try to ignore this man, and all he does is watch me in silence from across the room, the street, wherever the hell I’m at, he’s there, and that’s that.
Standing behind the counter, I stare across the street. I can’t take my eyes off him. I don’t know why he’s here, why he’s been following me recently. It’s been about a month since he started tailing me. My brother hasn’t said anything, and neither have any of the old ladies.
I’m kind of over it, though. Two years ago, he made it clear that I couldn’t have him. Whatever that meant. He never explained it and hasn’t even said two words to me since then. And suddenly, he’s focused on me as if I’m the most important thing on earth or something.
“Dakota,” I call out. She hums as she focuses on a cupcake she’s frosting. “Do you know why Viking has been following me for the last month?”
She hums but then pauses, and I watch as her head turns and her eyes find mine. “What do you mean he’s been following you for the past month?” she asks.
“I mean, he’s everywhere I go, watching me.”
As I shift my focus straight ahead, she walks up beside me. I wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she moves, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her lift her phone to her ear.
“Bishop,” she whispers into the phone, “is there a reason Viking has been following Lainey around?”
Tearing my gaze away from the window, I look over at Dakota. She is now focused on Viking, her eyes narrowing on him as she speaks with her husband. Her spine straightens, her lips part, and she shakes her head once before she speaks.
“So what does it all mean?” she demands. “Okay. Fine. Yeah, I love you, too.”
She lets out a sigh, then shifts her focus from Viking to me, her eyes on me as they widen. I open my mouth to ask her what the hell is going on, wondering why it’s been going on for a month before anyone said anything… whatever it is.
“It seems as if there is some kind of issue,” she whispers.
“Issue?” I ask.
I’ve had protection before, but never without me knowing. And Lightning was even shot in my bakery once, but it wasn’t me they were after. Regardless, my brother knows that I don’t want to and can’t be on lockdown for the club, so he usually has someone watch me. It’s not new or strange.
But it’s never been a secret before, so I’m a bit confused as to what the hell is going on. Clearly, Dakota didn’t know either, because she sounded shocked that any of it was happening. And the way she’s looking at me, I can’t help but wonder if it’s even bigger than I could have imagined.
“Dakota,” I urge when she doesn’t continue.
She shakes her head once, her eyes slowly closing, and then she opens them again, her gaze connecting to mine instantly. She clears her throat and rocks back on her heels, then finally begins to speak.
“Okay, well, here’s the thing,” she begins.
I don’t know if I need a full story. I’m okay with just the basics at this point, but apparently, I’m getting it all. And I’m afraid to interrupt her because I want her to give me as much information as possible.
“You are under Viking’s watchful eye, apparently, for the foreseeable future,” she begins. “I guess what happened—or at least what Bishop is willing to divulge, because Lord knows he doesn’t tell me everything—is that there is a threat.”
“To me?” I ask. “Axton? Who?” I demand.
Is it me, is it my brother, my store? What?
Because I know it’s not anyone I’ve dated, considering I don’t date.
I work, I hang out with the girls, I go home.
That is about all I do. Sometimes hanging out with the girls involves going to a bar and dancing, but I don’t go home with anyone or give my number out to any of the guys I’ve talked to.
So I’m really confused as to why I would need to be under surveillance unless it was club-related or something to do with my brother’s job as a police officer. Dakota flicks her gaze down to her shoes, then slowly lifts it up to mine again.
“You, Lainey.”
“Why me?” I demand.
My voice comes out harsher than it should. Louder, too. I don’t know why anyone would want to target me for any reason. I couldn’t have done anything. I am nice to everyone. I hardly ever even think a bad thought about someone, let alone actually say it.
She shakes her head once, then shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know. He said it was club business. I’m probably lucky to get the answers I did out of him, to be honest.”
Dakota is right, I know she is, and since her husband is the president of the club, he’ll have more answers to give than anyone. I chew on the corner of my bottom lip, working the flesh back and forth a few times while I stare at him across the street.
His back is leaning against the side of the building, his arms folded across his chest, his mirrored sunglasses pointed directly at me. I wonder what he would do if I walked up to him. If I demanded to know what was going on.
Probably nothing.
He probably wouldn’t even speak to me. It’s been over two years since that drunken night in his muscle car, and he hasn’t so much as said hello to me, let alone anything else. Deciding that I don’t care, I take a step backward, my gaze flicking back to Dakota’s.
“You know what?” I ask. Her eyes widen, likely reading the annoyance mixed with anger in my gaze. “I don’t care,” I snap. “I’m done.”
Before I can spin around and stomp off, signaling an amazing, albeit short, rant, Dakota reaches out, catching my forearm and squeezing me firmly to keep me from walking away. My eyes flick to her hand, then slowly slide up her arm to meet her gaze.
She arches a brow, her lips curving up into a smirk. “Done with what?”
“Everything,” I state. “I’m not part of the club, never wanted to be, and if he wants to stalk me without giving me a reason, then I’ll make it interesting.”
“Lainey-Rose,” Dakota hisses. “What are you saying? This isn’t like you.”
There is a moment of silence where we just stare at one another.
She’s waiting for a response, but I don’t think I have one that pisses me off the most about the situation.
It’s the whole thing. Mostly, it’s because I’ve been stupidly pining after this man, waiting for him to do something for years.
Not one or two, more than that, lots of them.
He doesn’t want anything to do with me because if he did, he would.
He would.
I’ve seen the way these men fall for women, and they don’t even let the threat of death and demise stand in their way. Squaring my shoulders, I clear my throat. My lips slowly curve up into a smile.
“I’m going to find a guy who wants me for me, Dakota.
It’s not him, it’s not any of them, and I don’t know why I thought it could be.
I always told myself I never wanted one of them, but when you all started dating, marrying, and having children with them, and I saw how much they loved you all, it made me hope for more. ”
“From Viking?” she asks.
“Specifically, yeah. I’m an idiot.”
She frowns, her brows snapping together before she clears her throat, and I know she’s going to ask me if I’ve made my feelings, wants, and desires clear, and I’m going to have to tell her the embarrassing truth.
Dakota opens her mouth to no doubt ask me just that, when I’m saved by the bell above my door. A customer walks in, and I plaster on my customer-service face just as Dakota’s hand falls from my arm, and she does the same.
Thankfully, the conversation is dropped and never picked up again, as we’re not only slammed, but then she has to leave for the day.
It works out better for me because I don’t want to tell her the embarrassing story of how I threw myself at Viking and he wanted nothing to do with me. It took me two years to somewhat get over it—but not really over over it—because I don’t think rejection is something you ever just get over.
VIKING
My phone rings in my pocket, and I reach into my cut to take it out. Without even looking at the screen, my gaze transfixed on the women in the bakery behind the counter, I slide my thumb across the screen and hold it to my ear.
“Viking,” I greet.
“Dakota called me asking questions.”
“And?”
“If you think they didn’t clock you, you’re dead fucking wrong. Lainey isn’t stupid.”
No. Lainey is not stupid. What she is is sexy as fuck. But I haven’t hidden myself from her either. I’m in the open and focused on her. I want to be seen—by her and whoever the fuck else is looking.
“I’m not hiding,” I state. “I never said I was. I want everyone to know that Lainey is protected. And not just by the surveillance Piggy has on her shop.”
He snorts, no doubt thinking I’m a crazy bastard, but I don’t really care. I am a crazy bastard. I’m also not going to risk Lainey’s life. She deserves to sleep peacefully every night, without a single ounce of worry.
And I aim to make that a reality.
“What are your thoughts about telling her what’s going on?” he asks.
I let out a heavy sigh and clear my throat, though I don’t immediately respond. I’m not quite sure what to say. I don’t want her to know that she’s got a fucking target on her back—because Lorenzo wants her for one of his men, to make a fucking great goddamn match and live happily ever after.
She would absolutely lose her shit.
And I’m honestly pretty fucking close to losing mine as it is.
Lorenzo is trying really fucking hard to make a match with his new protégé, Paul.
I studied what he looked like so I could be ready for him when he makes his appearance, because I know he will.
Lorenzo has made his mission perfectly clear.
I’m under no illusion that he won’t steal her ass from inside her bakery, while she’s walking to her car, from her apartment, wherever. I don’t think he’ll try to woo her the way Goffredo did. That ship has fucking sailed.
“And scaring her? I don’t think so.”
“What are your thoughts on talking to Piggy and claiming her for yourself?”
I like that he asks me as if he knows that’s exactly what I want to do. It’s not like I haven’t been dreaming about it for years. She doesn’t need my bullshit hang-ups, and she definitely doesn’t need me and Piggy fighting it out. Because I’m pretty sure Piggy would never allow that shit to fly.
“I’m thinking Piggy would shoot me before I even got a full sentence out.”
“Probably, but it’s better than waiting for this shit to go down.”
“Is it though?” I ask. “He’ll kill me; you know he will. We already had all that drama with Goose and Ivy. I don’t want to go through any of that shit again, and I don’t want to be in the middle of it. This is a brotherhood. My dick getting wet isn’t as important as the club.”
And that’s a lie. A whole fucking lie. But it’s one I’m not willing to confess to. Probably never will.