For the first time tonight, a profound sense of relaxation washes over me. I feel safe and content, cocooned in this wild environment filled with rough, loud men who, despite their tough exteriors, share a bond that’s palpable. I finish the last bite of my burger, savoring the taste, then reach for the napkin resting on my plate to wipe my hands.
Hawk shifts slightly behind me, his breath warm against my ear. “Stay here,” he murmurs, and there’s a softness in his tone that sends a shiver down my spine.
Curiosity piqued, I turn my head to meet his gaze. “Where are you going?”
“Bar,” he replies simply. “Get you another drink.”
I glance down at my empty can, then nod. “Okay.”
With reluctance, I slide off his lap to give him room to stand. He grabs both our empty bottles before heading toward the clubhouse, and I watch him disappear into the dimly lit entrance, feeling a small pang of longing as the warmth of his presence fades.
The laughter continues, with Ghost still chuckling over the earlier antics while Riot and Diesel dive into a friendly argument about motorcycles. I try to immerse myself in their banter, but as moments pass, an unsettling feeling creeps in.
Hawk still hasn’t returned.
I glance toward the clubhouse doors, anxiety knotting my stomach. What could possibly be taking so long?
Another minute ticks by, then another. This is odd.
With a sigh, I push myself to my feet. “I’m gonna go find him,” I announce to Ghost, who barely looks up from his phone.
“Good luck,” he mutters, barely acknowledging my departure.
Rolling my eyes, I head toward the clubhouse. Inside, the atmosphere is even more raucous than before, with music pulsating through the air and people shouting to be heard over the cacophony. The crowd is a blur of bodies and laughter,women in revealing outfits weaving through the throng, and I navigate my way through, determined to find Hawk.
As I approach the hallway leading to his office, the door swings open. I freeze.
A woman steps out, adjusting her top as she enters the hallway. Her hair is tousled, lipstick smeared, and she looks exactly like someone who has just finished a tryst. My stomach drops, a cold wave of unease washing over me.
She notices me immediately, her eyes roving over my body with an unsettling familiarity, lingering on my corset and the marks on my chest. Then, she grins—a smug smile that sends a chill down my spine.
“Well,” she drawls, popping her gum nonchalantly. “You must be the new one.”
My throat tightens at her words. “I’m looking for Hawk,” I manage to say, but her laughter is like a knife.
“Oh, honey,” she replies, amusement dancing in her eyes. “He’s busy.”
My heart sinks.
“I just came from his office,” she continues casually, nodding toward the door behind her.
For a moment, I can’t breathe.
She leans closer, her voice dripping with condescension. “You didn’t think you were the only girl he fucked in there today, did you?”
The words hit me like a punch, and I stare at her, trying to process the implications while fighting back tears. That can’t be true—can it? Her confidence is unsettling, as if she knowssomething I don’t, and her smirk lingers in my mind like a bad dream.
“Welcome to biker life, sweetheart,” she says, strutting past me down the hallway, leaving me frozen in disbelief.
I stand there, my chest tightening, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. Just a few moments ago, everything felt right. Hawk and I had shared a connection that seemed genuine, and now—
The office door opens again, and Hawk steps out, a smile creeping onto his face when he sees me. But it fades quickly as he registers my expression.
“What—” he starts, but before he can finish, I slap him.
The sound echoes in the hallway, sharp and unforgiving. His head snaps to the side, shock etching itself into his features as he stares at me, momentarily stunned.
“What the fuck—” he begins, but I cut him off.
