Chapter Three
Brick sat alone inthe clubhouse common area, the low thrum of music and scattered conversations fading into a distant hum he barely registered.He’d claimed a far-off table under a flickering neon sign, the perfect spot to see every entry point, every shadow, every brother moving through the room.
In front of him, the Glock lay disassembled on a rag.Cleaning it was second nature.Swipe, check, and reassemble.It was a mechanical ritual that kept his hands busy and his brain quiet.
Or it usually did.Tonight, no matter how many times he polished the slide, his mind kept drifting back to dark eyes and a soft braid falling over a bright cardigan.He’d spent the whole damn night before listening to the faint echo of her laugh in his head.
It was ridiculous.He was a grown man, a Sergeant-at-Arms who’d lived through shootouts, raids, betrayals.He wasn’t supposed to feel anything that resembled longing.He scowled at himself and snapped the magazine into place.
The phone in his pocket buzzed.
He expected it to be King or one of the prospects.However, when he pulled it out and saw ‘Tessa Hart’ lighting up the screen, something sharp punched his chest.Brick answered immediately.
“Tessa?”
Her voice came out tight.Breathy.On the edge.“Brick?I need—” Her breath broke.“Something’s wrong.”
Brick was already on his feet, gun holstered, jacket grabbed, before she finished the sentence.
“Talk to me.What happened?”Brick demanded
“My—my car,” she gasped.“I think it was the Serpents.Brick, someone vandalized it.I didn’t see them.I don’t know when it happened.I just got home and it’s bad.”
He was halfway to the door when King stepped out of his office, eyebrows rising.“Problem?”
Brick didn’t stop moving.“Tessa.I’m going.”
King didn’t question it.He stepped aside.“Keep me updated.”
Brick mounted his Harley in the parking lot, the engine roaring to life beneath him like it felt his fury.He didn’t even bother with his helmet, he just tore out of the lot, speed limits be damned.The night blurred around him, streetlights streaking past as the wind clawed at his jacket.
Tessa lived on the quiet edge of town.One-story home, cracked walkway, a lonely little porch light glowing against the dark.A neighborhood where kids rode their bikes in circles on the weekends, where neighbors waved from their lawns, where nothing bad should happen.
And yet trouble always sniffed out the innocent.
When he turned onto her street, he saw her immediately, and something inside him went cold.Tessa stood frozen beside her car, her arms wrapped tight around her cardigan like she was trying to hold herself together.
Her braid had come half undone, dark hair spilling around her face.Her eyes were too wide, too shiny.She looked small in a way he’d never seen, like someone who’d just had their safe world cracked open.
The porch light above her gave off a soft golden glow, catching the frightened curve of her mouth, the tremble in her hands.A gut punch of protectiveness slammed through him so hard he actually jerked in the seat.
She looked so vulnerable, and he hated it.Brick didn’t like seeing her this way, and he hated knowing fear had touched her.Then he saw the car.Black spray paint sliced across the windshield in jagged, hateful strokes.
Rat
MC whore
Stay out of Serpent business
Brick’s grip tightened on the handlebars until the leather creaked in protest.A low, murderous heat crawled up his spine.If any of the Serpents had put their hands on her, if one of those filthy bastards had stood close enough for her to smell their breath...
