I feel the tension slip out of Wren’s body as they let themself embrace the rush of speed and hopefully the feel of my body up against theirs.
Their confidence grows, leaning into the turns, using their thighs and center of gravity to steer us around the edges. Along the straight, we hurtle, and Wren’s laughter leaves me as exhilarated as they are.
“Rein him in.” A voice cracks over the paddock, and I see Atom standing by the fence.
I reach for the reins and take them from Wren to slow Blaze down and guide us over to my best friend.
We’re the same height, but the man is solid muscle from top to toe. Years of toiling on the ranch before his grandfather handed it over to him.
“What the hell were you thinking, bringing Wren out here against orders?” Atom asks, his face etched with the kind of lines that tell me the club’s sergeant at arms is mad at something.
“Wren needed air,” I answer honestly.
“So, open a fucking window in the bakery’s apartment.”
Reluctantly, I drop down off the back of Blaze so I can face him man-to-man.
“It’s too early in the morning for you to be this upset.” I hold tight to the reins and Blaze tosses his head about.
He glances over my shoulder to Wren. “Did you forget what your job was?”
Protect Wren at all costs.
“There’s not a single soul out here. That’s why I chose this place, because it’s safe. What’s really eating you?”
Atom shrugs and adjusts his Stetson. “I hate having to come rein in my friend when I know he’s gonna be facing trouble.”
“What the fuck did I do that’s so bad?”
Atom winces and squeezes my shoulder. “You need to get inside and talk to Grudge, because he was there when Smoke saw you sneaking out of the bakery on the camera footage, and he’s pissed.”
8
WREN
Slow breaths.
One in. One out.
That’s all I can do as I listen to these bikers fight.
“You ever wonder what King will do if anything happens to Wren?” Grudge shouts. “He was clear that somewhere between him and Saint and Spark that they’d fucking ex-communicate us all. Permanently.”
And there it is. His fear isn’t for me, for what I might be going through. It’s purely selfish.
“What the fuck is going to happen here, two weeks before Christmas, in the one part of the state that doesn’t get snow plowed unless we do it?” Catfish asks. There’s a real shift in his demeanor. I’ve only really seen the laid-back, slightly irritating version of him.
At first, Catfish seemed a little indifferent to Atom’s warning. He led us back to the stables, helping me off Blaze, then handed Blaze off to a stable hand that Atom had assigned to take care of his horse.
On the way over here, he was even telling me bits and pieces about the ranch, Atom’s family, and how Catfish came to ownBlaze. Apparently, he’d been the first horse born after Catfish had become a patched-in member, and Catfish had paid his entire first paycheck as a down payment.
He seemed utterly unconcerned with what would follow once we got inside, like it would be of no consequence.
But I can see other bikers muttering to each other and casting looks my way, none of which are supportive. At best, they might be suspicious. At worst, they see me as a problem. One that could get them in trouble with King.
Catfish, on the other hand, has… God, I don’t even know how to describe it. He’s gone from a puppy to a lion. Suddenly, he’s lost the louche stance and looks at least four inches taller.
His shoulders have lost the subtle curve, pulled back in a way that shows me I underestimated his real size.
