Chapter 2
Lena
Despite everything that’s happened tonight, I find myself relaxing and enjoying the ride. The cool air whips against my skin, we’re going so fast it feels like we’re flying, but the rider is in perfect control. The stranger whose waist I’m wrapping my arms around smells good, and his back and abs are rock hard. I find myself wondering what he looks like, who he is. I haven’t even seen his face, and yet somehow, I feel safe with him.
I’m almost disappointed when we pull up to the Soaring Eagles clubhouse and he turns the engine off. I know they will have questions. I’ve no idea what’s going to happen next, whether they’ll take pity on me or turf me out into the street because of my connection with their rivals.
I climb off the bike and remove my helmet, handing it over to my rescuer. “Thanks for stopping, I mean,” I say awkwardly, acutely aware of the fact that I’m wearing only a pair of lace booty panties and my work t-shirt with the Iron Vultures logo on it.
The man removes his helmet, and I breathe in sharply, practically gasping. He’s devastatingly attractive with salt and pepper hair and a graying, neatly trimmed beard that highlights his strong jawline. He looks at me with arresting amber eyes, sizing me up without shame. “Come on inside, darlin’ and you can tell me everything.”
I nod, following him as he ambles toward the clubhouse. One of the men traveling in his group intercepts him.
“Rex, what the fuck? Who is this chick? Why’d you pick her up?” he asks, looking at me with suspicion.
“I picked her up because she’s half naked and begging for help,” the man, who I now know is called Rex, replies simply. “As for everything else, I’m about to find out. You guys head on home, I’ll deal with her,” he says, looking to the other men awaiting instructions.
“Alright, just call if you need me,” the man replies, throwing one last suspicious glance my way before climbing back onto his bike and riding off. The rest follow suit, leaving me alone with Rex.
He unlocks the clubhouse, swinging the doors open and gesturing for me to go inside. I’m guessing he must be important enough within the club to have a key, and the other men seemed to defer to his authority. He flicks on the lights, revealing a far cozier and more traditional-looking bar than the Iron Vulture’s club. “Take a seat, I’ll go find you some clothes,” Rex says, walking off through a backroom behind the bar.
I sit down and take in my surroundings, comparing the bar with the Iron Vulture’s clubhouse. The Iron Vultures bar was essentially a dive bar, a hang-out for lowlifes and criminals. With black walls and sticky black floors, it’s dark and dingy at all times. Heavy metal music blares out, and anyone who enters that isn’t affiliated with the club usually turns around and leaves, thanks to the dirty looks they get.
The Soaring Eagles club feels bright and welcoming, with cozy-looking leather booths and a large wooden bar. It looks more like a sports bar than a biker hang out.
Rex returns, handing me a pair of men’s gray joggers and a white t-shirt. “Thanks,” I say awkwardly, standing and pulling the sweats on. They’re too big, but I pull the string tight so theywon’t fall down. “I don’t need a top,” I say, holding the shirt out for him.
He frowns, his slightly lined forehead furrowing. “You’re not wearing that here,” he says, nodding his head at the logo on my tee.
“Right, yes of course, I didn’t think,” I stammer.
I turn my back and pull off my Iron Vultures t-shirt before shrugging on the one he gave me. When I turn back around, I notice he’s turned away to give me some privacy. The gesture is unexpectedly gentlemanly. I clear my throat to let him know I’m decent. He turns to face me, nodding his approval. “Please, sit,” he says gently, gesturing to the booth behind me. I slip inside, and he sits down opposite me, surveying me with those intelligent eyes. I feel hot under his scrutiny. “So, I think you’d better tell me why you flagged me down and asked me to help you.”
“Right, yes,” I say, uncertain of where to start. “So, um, I work as a barmaid for the Iron Vultures. In exchange, I get accommodation near the clubhouse and a small wage plus tips. I’ve been working there for a year.”
“Okay,” he says slowly. “So how did you come to be half-naked in the street, desperate to leave?”
“I decided to go to the after-party that Zeke, he’s the president of the Iron Vultures, was throwing.”
Rex nods in understanding of who Zeke is, encouraging me to continue.
“I uh, I shouldn’t have gone. Zeke wants me to be his old lady, and I’d said no. Me going tonight meant he thought I was saying yes. He uh, he started to, you know…” I say awkwardly, unsure of how to explain such personal and intimateinformation to a stranger. “I was saying no, but he didn’t stop. He took off my jeans. When you arrived, you interrupted him from doing anything more, but I know he was going to do it once you’d gone, that he’d come back.” The lie falls easily from my mouth. “I just panicked and ran. I needed to escape from him. When he finds out I left with you, he’s going to be so mad. Oh god, he’s going to kill me,” I say, running my hands down my face, as the realization of what I’ve done starts to sink in fully.
I don’t know why I lie and say their arrival stopped Zeke from doing what he did. Perhaps because I can’t quite believe it myself, or because I’m ashamed or worried Rex won’t believe me, that he will think less of me for it somehow, or that he’ll see me as damaged goods. I suppose for all of the reasons women don’t report these things.
Rex’s face is dark with anger, and for a moment, I worry his anger is directed at me. “That bastard,” he growls under his breath, and I realize it’s Zeke he’s mad at. He takes a deep breath to calm himself before speaking to me. “What’s your name?” he asks softly.
“Lena.”
“Well, Lena, I promise you that I won’t let him hurt you. You can stay here for as long as you want while you figure things out. I’ll protect you. My name is Rex,” he adds, almost as an afterthought.
The offer is so kind, so genuine that it catches me off guard. I’m used to people wanting something in exchange for anything, so I’m immediately suspicious of the offer of free accommodation and protection.
“What do you want in return?”
“Nothing,” he says.
“Why would you do that? What’s in it for you? I have no money, no belongings, all my stuff is in an apartment I can’t return to without being found and probably killed by Zeke, I have nothing I can offer you,” I persist, unable to believe that someone would do such a big favor without an ulterior motive.
