I felt her body soften as her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and her body pressed snug against my back. She’d given me her trust, believing that as long as I had her, she’d be safe.
“Hold tight.” I started the engine, the powerful vibration rumbling beneath us as we pulled onto the road.
The drive into downtown Riverstone was quick, traffic sparse in the late morning. Linden stayed quiet behind me, peering around my arm with quiet curiosity as I navigated through familiar streets. My office wasn’t located in some nondescript business park; instead, it occupied a secure floor in a sleek, modern building downtown—a facility owned outright by the Hounds of Hellfire. Which was the only reason I felt safe bringing her here now. I knew it was safe.
The building housed various legitimate businesses, all run or owned by a brother. So this building was as secure as places like Johns Hopkins Applied Physics Laboratory because it was also one of the places the MC used for sensitive work—usually involving our disappearance operation.
Once inside, I led her to the front reception area, lifting my chin to Cal, who operated the desk and acted as the gatekeeper—essentially the first line of defense. He wasn’t a big guy, so people often underestimated him, but they very quickly learned not to fuck with him.
“Need a box?” he asked.
I nodded and waited until he handed me a container the size of a shoebox, then turned to Linden. “You’ll have to leave all of your electronics—anything with a signal, even your earbuds.” Linden’s brow rose, and I explained further as I started adding my items to the box. “It prevents the accidental or intentional exfiltration of classified, proprietary, or sensitive data. Small devices like earbuds, smartwatches, and phones can record, transmit, or store data, bypassing security protocols and creating severe cybersecurity and espionage risks.”
She looked at the container. “That’s a Faraday cage?”
I nodded, pushing it closer to her so she could put everything she needed to leave inside it. Faraday boxes were signal-blocking containers, RF shielded enclosures that basically turned electronics into nothing but a useless brick.
“A lot of sensitive information passes through here, so security is tight. The club sometimes works with highly classified, sensitive materials in support of one of our business interests. And several of my brothers work as civilian contractors like me, who deal in secret shit too. The clubhouse is almost as secure, but on a smaller scale, with a SCIF room to work in a shielded place.”
Linden blinked, clearly taken aback by my explanation.
“Yeah, it’s a lot to take in.”
“I’ll say,” she agreed.
I chuckled as I closed the box and pushed it back over to Cal, receiving a claim ticket in return.
Then I led Linden over to a wall panel where I swiped my badge and bent my knees to lower my body, so my eyes were at the right level to be scanned. The red light turned yellow, anda small keyboard lowered from under the panel. I typed in a password, and the yellow light turned green before the keyboard melted into the wall once again.
When the door swung open, I led her through it, and we walked down a hallway that led to my private office. Linden’s gaze was wide and intrigued as she glanced around at the polished floors, sleek furnishings, and modern aesthetics. I noticed that her perceptive eyes didn’t miss all of the security measures that carefully secured the facility that was obviously hiding things that were significant, sensitive, and possibly dangerous.
When we entered my office, she glanced around at the sophisticated setup and murmured, “You weren’t kidding about this place.”
Her gaze landed on my workstation, where computer screens displayed intricate aircraft schematics, design files, and performance analytics. The sleek drafting table in the corner was cluttered with sketches, blueprints, and reference materials. Models of aircraft, ranging from fighter jets to experimental designs, were displayed meticulously on built-in shelving.
Linden approached cautiously at first, as if afraid she might disrupt something important. But as soon as her eyes landed on the sketches and schematics, her expression shifted. Her green eyes widened again, but this time they lit up with an interest that confirmed what I’d already figured out—she was perfect for me.
“Oh my gosh,” she whispered, her fingers reaching toward a sketch of a sleek, next-generation stealth jet, pausing just short of touching it, her fascination obvious. “This is incredible.”
“Go ahead,” I urged quietly. “You can look through anything here. The classified shit is hidden away when I’m not here.”
She hesitated only a second more before her fingers brushed lightly against the page, her expression thoughtful and intent as she studied the design details. “I’ve always found this stufffascinating. Aerospace engineering, aircraft design…I think it’s why I took the job with Aegis. Even though it was mostly just data entry, it put me close to this world.” She paused, a hint of vulnerability in her voice as she added softly, “And it made me feel closer to Carson. He loved flying, but he also loved the tech and being a test pilot.”
The emotion in her voice had my feet automatically moving closer to her. I brushed her hair over one shoulder, exposing her neck, and placed a soft kiss there. I smiled when she shivered and tossed a heated glance back at me, her mind successfully diverted from her grief.
She went back to studying the plans, and I watched her for a minute, then asked, “Have you ever thought about pursuing aerospace engineering yourself? You’ve got the mind for it. The way you see patterns in data, how quickly you catch details—those are some of the skills you’d need to excel in design.”
She looked up at me in surprise, her cheeks coloring softly at the unexpected praise. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” I confirmed. “You have a natural aptitude for it. I’d bet money you’d thrive.”
A thoughtful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but before she could say anything, I spoke again, making sure my voice left no room for misinterpretation. “But only if you stay local. I don’t want you going off somewhere else. Not when you belong here—with me.”
Another flush of heat rose swiftly to her cheeks, but she didn’t look annoyed or put off by my demand. Instead, her eyes warmed, and that little spark of something that looked like hope shimmered in the green pools. She tilted her head slightly as she replied, “I’ll think about it.”
“Good,” I murmured with a nod.
She gave me a playful shrug, “About staying local too.”
