"Careful what you wish for," he said, nodding toward the door where a group of Copperheads were making their entrance.Their copper and black colors stood out sharply against the Valentine's decorations."Some new faces ain't worth meeting."
I shrugged."They're playing nice tonight.Everyone is."
Bull snorted."Like a snake plays nice until it strikes."He looked me over, his weathered face softening slightly."Hard to believe you're the same little wildcat Ghost dragged in five years ago.You were all bones and fury, ready to knife anyone who looked at you sideways."
"Still might," I said, but there was no heat in it.
"Nah."He shook his head with a grin."Ghost saved your ass, and you saved his right back.Never seen that man give a damn about anything until you came along.Used to worry me, how empty he was behind those eyes."
I shifted uncomfortably.Bull wasn't usually the sentimental type, and I wasn't sure I wanted to hear about the Ghost that existed before me.
"He’s still empty behind the eyes sometimes," I said.
Bull nodded "True enough.But he's got someone to come home to now.You’re stayin’ with the club for a while?"
I snorted.“Where else would I go?This is home.I have no desire to live anywhere other than at the compound.”
I scanned the room again, my gaze drifting back to the man who'd been watching me.He'd moved to a table now, sitting with a couple of Copperheads, but not wearing their colors.Still, there was something about how he held himself, an alertness that reminded me of Ghost.Like a man who was always aware of the exits and who stood between him and them.
"You know that guy?"I asked Bull, tipping my chin subtly in the stranger's direction.
Bull squinted."New blood with the Copperheads, I think?Goes by Rocky or some shit.Keeps to himself mostly.Why?He bothering you?"
"No," I said, a little too quickly."Just noticed him watching."
"Want me to discourage him?"Bull's hand drifted toward his belt, where I knew he kept a knife that had opened more than just envelopes.
"I can handle a stare, Bull.And I don’t feel threatened by him.I don’t get a bad vibe."
He grinned."Never doubted you could handle yourself, wildcat.Just making the offer."
As Bull wandered off to join a card game, I made my way back to the bar, hyperaware of my movements now that I knew I had an audience.Not that I was putting on a show for some Copperhead affiliate, but there was something about being watched the way this guy looked at me that made me straighten my spine, let my hips sway a little more deliberately.
I ordered water this time, needing a clear head.The Valentine's Ball was the biggest event in the local club calendar, and while it was supposed to be neutral ground, old grudges had a way of flaring up after enough whiskey.Ghost had taught me alcohol was fine, but sometimes I needed to stay sharp, especially with Copperheads in the mix.
The Bloody Valentine's Ball had been going on for years before I entered the picture, but sometimes I felt like I'd seen it all before anyway.The same faces, the same politics, the same performances of toughness and loyalty.I belonged here, had carved out my place in this world.Sure, my adopted father was a high ranking officer in one of the more powerful clubs in the area, but I prided myself on being my own person in a male dominated environment.
My phone buzzed.Ghost, texting that he and Jack were running late.Something about business that couldn't wait.
I slipped the phone back in my pocket and felt that prickle again.Looking up, I caught the stranger, Rocky, watching me.This time, I didn't look away.Instead, I picked up my glass of water, raised it in his direction, and took a deliberate sip, my gaze never leaving his.A challenge.An acknowledgment.
A small smile played at my lips as I set the glass down.Maybe tonight wouldn't be so predictable after all.Maybe what I needed was something, or someone, to break up the monotony, shake things up a little.And something told me that this stranger with the intense eyes might be just the thing to make life interesting again.
Chapter Two
Rocky
Inursedmybeerata corner table, keeping my back to the wall and my eyes on the target.Purple hair.Black dress hugging curves that nobody fucking mentioned.Combat boots completed her outfit.Casper “Ghost” Sullivan's adopted daughter looked like trouble wrapped in barbed wire, just like the Valentine's centerpieces scattered around the bar.Only way less tacky.And no.No way in fuck I was using “tacky” out loud to describe those fucking centerpieces.I also wanted to keep my balls intact.The old ladies got one night a year to have their way with the place.Everyone knew the women liked their revenge for all the testosterone floating around the place but we all smiled and allowed it.Why?Like I said.I’d like to keep my balls.
I'd been watching Wren for forty minutes, waiting for the right moment.My Copperheads vest was safely tucked in my saddlebag outside, replaced by a plain leather jacket that told these bikers exactly nothing about who I really was.Of course, the vest didn’t represent who I really was either.There was a means to this end and this girl could be my only safeguard if things went to shit.
The Valentine's Ball bullshit worked in my favor.Neutral territory meant clubs from across three counties packed intoOutlaw's Restwithout starting shit, if you could believe it.Everyone playing nice for one Goddamn night, all to give the old ladies their due.Yeah.I could respect that.
None of the Copperheads were here.Not only would they never do anything to please their women, they were more a bunch of thugs than outlaw bikers.They had no purpose other than hurting people and any money they made came from doing some nasty shit to people in desperate situations.
I took another pull of my beer, grimacing at the watered-down taste.The place reeked of cigarettes and weed, red and black streamers hanging from the ceiling like some high school dance in hell.Hearts with MC patches mounted inside them lined the walls in a weird mix of outlaw culture and Valentine's kitsch that somehow worked.Sort of.
Through the haze of smoke, I watched Wren knock back another whiskey.That made three by my count.Her gaze swept the room occasionally, missing nothing.There was calculation behind those glances that reminded me of her old man.Ghost hadn't gotten to be VP of Bound in Blood by being stupid, and apparently his kid had inherited his watchfulness.Also, there was no way Ghost didn’t teach the girl Survival 101 about living in an active MC.
