“Now that I think about it… Yeah, it makes sense, but it’s not that obvious.”
“To you, maybe. Are we going or what?” I hope he will drop the subject.
Jonathan’s car is one of those classic cars. Big, tough and smelly.
“Yep.” He starts the car and pulls away from the driveway. “What’s with the investigation? Why does it require for you to speak with a biker?”
“Let’s just say I need information about a person, and a certain someone in the MC might be able to provide that.” That isn’t a good deflection.
“You aren’t working with the government, are you? I don’t wanna get tangled with them.”
His curiosity is turning into paranoia, and I get it, suddenly I’m this chick asking about odd things? That’s me, Sarah, a desperate woman trying to find her everything.
“Relax, I’m not a narc.” I smile gently. I need to look calm and sweet. Men always fall for that.
“Okay, good to know.” He looks reassured.
Great, this is working.
“But if shit goes down, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” I’m joking, of course.
“If something does happen, you’ll realize that inking people is not the only thing I’m good at.” He laughs and pulls up his shirt. “These abs didn’t just appear overnight.”
Show-off.
Though, I can’t help but quickly glance at his abs. I must say… They look rock solid. Jonathan is what a skater boy looks like, but older. He has a pretty smile, blond, disheveled hair and beautiful blueish eyes.
The better part of half an hour passes, and we reach the city’s outskirts, where not a single tall building can be seen.
“But seriously, this place isn’t exactly safe. I wouldn’t like it if something happened to you on our first date, so stay close. Please?”
“Aww, he’s a sweetheart and you don’t deserve him.”Is Life envious?
“Gotcha!” That’s a lie. I know that as soon as I can be alone with the president, I’ll take it.
We reach our destination and Jonathan pulls over. In front of us is an old fire station, it’s a decent size and with a red brick façade to this two-story fortress. Many choppers are parked in the front, obviously.
Jonathan pulls his cellphone out of his pocket and starts to text someone. I observe quietly, but he realizes it. “I’m letting my contact know that we are at the door.”
“It’s all right. You don’t have to explain.”
We step out of the car and go to the door, which opens, and a biker emerges.
“Who are you?” the biker says.
“I’m Jonathan, Viking’s cousin. He’s waiting for me.”
Did he say cousin? My luck is finally changing!
Chapter Four
SARAH
The heavy metal music is deafening; I don’t understand how they stand this tune so loud. The smoke is so dense it’s impossible to see who’s in front of you until you have to move them out of the way. The place is packed, and I wasn’t expecting this big party.
Jonathan’s warm, soft hand claims mine when we dive into the crowd. Clearly, he knows how to deal with bikers, so I don’t mind his gesture, since some of these men don’t understand the meaning of the wordno.
The interior of the building is remarkable – high, red-brick walls and arches that close the gap between them.
