?Chapter Twelve
Denis
The impound lot was a graveyard of rust and rubber, Cherry’s bike gleaming like a beacon among the wrecks. The bike wasn’t the only thing that demanded attention. IMC had shown up in force.
Denis took in the line of leather and chrome from across the lot. There was a large contingent of IMC, all standing attentively, the man Cherry had described as the VP at the helm like a goddamn general. He’d expected a representative for the club to show based on what he could hear from his side of Cherry’s call earlier. But he wasn’t prepared for the sheer presence of the bikers standing quietly, in a formation, even as each man looked like he could swing into action without warning. As they drove past, he could see the VP was a wall of a man, broad and scarred, and the way he stalked towards the gate of the impound yard made Denis’ throat tighten.
“How are you explaining me?” That wasn’t something he’d heard on his end of Cherry’s phone call, and right now? It felt like he’d left it late.
Cherry blew out a hard breath. “If I said I was done hiding that part of me, how would you feel?”
Denis immediately had a rush of adrenaline, tamping it down as if he were doing a difficult and contentious deposition. “If you are doing it for you, that’s something I’d be a hundred percent behind.” He paused. “But, and this isn’t me telling you that I’m not in favor, but if you’re doing it for me, then that’s the wrong reason.” Cherry’s immediate chuckle, low and filled with affection, made him smile as he cut his gaze to rest on Cherry’s face.
“I’m so tired of playing a part in life. I’d rather write my own story.”
Denis waited for Cherry to continue, and when it was clear he was done speaking, asked, “You’re not risking your place in the club, are you?”
Cherry’s response was immediate, “I hope not, the IMC’s former VP is in a throuple relationship, and the other man that’s the tripod in that little love tangle is still a rival club’s officer, the Caddo Hobos, CoBos. So no, they won’t give me shit about you. Maybe shit about hiding something from everyone, but not about you.” Cherry’s fingers grazed along Denis’ throat. “Now if you were a prosecutor, it might be different.” When Denis looked back at him, Cherry laughed long and low. “Just fuckin’ with you. I expect you’ll be welcomed.”
Denis pulled his car into the parking on the other side of the little kiosk at the entrance. “Might as well get this over with, I guess.” He parked and unbuckled, turning in the seat as he shut off the car. Over Cherry’s shoulder he could see the line of men was bending in the middle, the tall man taking point as they all stalked their direction.
Cherry slid out of the passenger seat, all easy swagger, but Denis caught the flicker in his eyes. It was nerves, maybe, or anticipation.
