He lunged.Mara turned to bolt and slammed straight into someone coming out of the motel.The impact jolted through her like static.
Her breath caught as strong hands steadied her by the arms, firm but not rough.She looked up on instinct, ready to apologize, ready to run again, but the words died on her tongue.The man towering over her wasn’t one of her father’s.
He was tall, easily six-two, maybe six-three, with broad shoulders that filled the doorway behind him.His black leather cut clung to a body built from hard muscle and years of work, not vanity.The patch on the back was unmistakable, the coiled serpent and crown emblem shining faintly in the morning light.Devil’s Crown MC.
Mara’s pulse stumbled.She knew that patch.The Vultures had cursed it enough times, called them troublemakers, smug bastards who didn’t know when to back off.The Devil’s Crown had been a thorn in her father’s side for years.
Her first instinct was panic.Here was another MC, another man with power in his stride and danger in his eyes, but something about him was ...different.
She forced herself to look up again.The morning sun caught the faint sheen of stubble along his jaw, the curve of a scar that cut through his right eyebrow and disappeared into his temple.He wasn’t pretty, not by any stretch, but there was a kind of quiet, brutal handsomeness to him.
His features were sharp, carved from shadows and exhaustion.A few strands of dark hair fell across his forehead, damp from a recent shower or maybe the misty morning air.But it was his eyes that made her freeze.
They were cold steel gray, steady and unreadable.Focused on her in a way that made her heart pound for a whole new reason.He looked like someone who’d seen too much and trusted too little.The kind of man who didn’t bother pretending to be safe.
For one dizzy second, she forgot to breathe.Her nerves were screaming at her to move, to get away, but her body stayed rooted, caught between fight and fascination.
Something in his gaze pinned her there, a spark of recognition she couldn’t explain.As if some buried part of her knew him, or had been waiting for someone like him all along.
It was ridiculous.She didn’t believe in fate, and yet...
The stranger furrowed his brows slightly, loosening his grip on her arm as he flicked his gaze toward Max and Denny behind her.
“You all right?”His voice was low and full of gravel.
Mara opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Jax barked out, “Hey!The hell you think you’re doin’, sweetheart?We were talkin’ to you.”
The stranger’s attention shifted instantly, like a switch had flipped.His stance changed, he squared his shoulders and angled his body subtly between Mara and the two men.
She caught the faint gleam of metal under his jacket.A holster.Her breath hitched.
Jax and Denny approached, swaggering and careless.
“She’s coming with us,” Denny said.“Family business.”
The man in front of her, this Devil’s Crown biker, didn’t move at first.He tightened his jaw, eyes still cold and assessing.When he finally spoke again, his tone had dropped, quiet but dangerous.
“Didn’t look like she wanted to.”
Mara’s stomach flipped.
The air between them crackled with something sharp and electric.Fear, tension, and something else she couldn’t name.She’d been around men like him her whole life, but none had ever made her feel like this.
Safe and scared at the same time.Drawn in, even when every rational part of her said run.
