Naomi
We moved our girls’ night to a girls’ day because of the dinner tonight. Ari and Cassi didn’t mind at all, and it was really nice to finally talk to them about everything that’s been going on. I mean, I kept some of the details vague—I know better than to disclose the whole murder part of how Kolter and I got together. I’m honestly impressed how casual I feel about the whole thing, though I’m pretty sure that makes me a horrible person.
The man was mentioned on the news the other day actually—an appeal for any information about his whereabouts, with a sobbing woman and a little girl in the background. My stomach soured at that, but as sad as I am for that little girl losing her father, I felt less guilty that the piece of shit who was cheating on his wife got his comeuppance.
Now that my girls’ day is over, I’m on my way to the clubhouse. Kolter texted me the address since I had no idea where to go. I was a little pre-occupied last time I was there.
I’ll be honest, I expected Kolter to pick me up and drive me. He usually doesn’t like me driving, even though I constantly remind him that we’re way more likely to be in an accident on his bike than I am in my car. Still, he usually insists. Not tonight,though. He said he wanted me to have an easy way to get home. Which I took to mean,In case I need you to get out of there without me.
Maybe I’m expecting this to be way more than it is. I mean, I’ve been there before. It’s just dinner—it’s not like there’s going to be a shootout or anything. I think. To be honest, I may or may not have been reading some MC romance books, and I think I’ve put myself on edge.
When I pull up to the club, there are men of varying sizes and ages sitting outside, and all of them turn the same unwelcoming narrow-eyed glare my way.
Swallowing roughly, I gather all my nerves, push the door open and step out of the car, but instantly feel uncomfortable. Kolter told me to dress casual, that it didn’t matter what I wore, but it’s like he doesn’t understand women at all?
Finally, I settled on a pair of light-wash blue jeans and a white lace blouse with white sandals. The sun is out today, which is a rarity for Seattle, and I thought the outfit was appropriate for the nice weather. But given how the bikers are all staring at me like I’m a zoo animal, it’s clear I was wrong.
Keeping my head held high, I make for the front stairs, but a large body steps in front of me, blocking my way. I pause for a moment then attempt to sidestep him. He matches the move, smirking down at me as he pushes his gut against my chest.
“Excuse me,” I say softly, making sure I don’t make eye contact.
“You’re excused. What’s a sweet little thing like you doing at a place like this? You lost?”
I don’t respond, attempting to step past him once more, but of course he blocks my path again. His hand wraps around my bicep and squeezes, and his teasing tone turns menacing.
“You little bitch, I’m talking to you. What are you doing here?” he snarls.
A large hand covered in tattoos claps down on the man’s shoulder, forcing him to look up to see who’s dared to interrupt his fun.
It’s Bones. Kolter said he was the VP of the club, his dad’s right-hand man.
Bones stares down at the other biker, tightening his grip on his shoulder. “Let her go.”
The man releases me quickly, lifting his hands up in a show of innocence. “Sorry, didn’t know she was yours. Little younger than you normally go for, eh?”
Bones’ head cracks forward, and there’s a sickening crunch as it connects with the other man’s nose. He crumples, holding his face as he moans and writhes on the ground.
Bones looks to me.
“Thanks,” I say softly.
But his expression turns to one of disgust before he shakes his head and turns to go back inside.
I shoot one more glance at the man on the ground, then make my way up the stairs and into the clubhouse.
When I step inside, I notice the place looks a little different from last time. Several tables have been rearranged to form one long banquet table with chairs all around it. I recognize a few faces, like Ace and Brick, who both nod in greeting before Kolter steps out from the back. His eyes land on me instantly, and he closes the distance between us as he takes a visual inventory.
“Are you hurt?” he asks with a deep frown.
“No, of course not.”
His gaze pauses on my bicep, and I look down to see the skin is a little red there. No big deal, right? You wouldn’t think that if you saw Kolter’s reaction—his eyes go black, and his face turns white with rage.
Kolter moves to take a step around me, but then Bones and Matthew emerge from the back.
Matthew calls out a single word: “Sit.”
Kolter tenses, freezing in place, then turns to the two chairs before us. He pulls out one for me then slides into the seat beside me. I don’t miss how he puts himself between his father and me, a gesture I’m more than grateful for.