"Sheis under my protection,"Eliascontinues, his grip tightening. "Sheis under my roof.Sheis mine.Youdo not put cuffs on what belongs to me."
Myskin tingles, warmth spreading beneath the flannel asIwatch him claim me with such fierce and determined intensity.Thelogical, calculatingTreasurerhas vanished, replaced by a beast who would kill the world to keep me.
Mypulse isn't just hammering; it’s a frantic thrum in my pussy, my walls aching for the heavy stretch of his cock again as he stands between me and theFeds.Theman pinning a federal agent to felt is the same beast who forgeda steel ringin the middle of the night because gold was too soft.Riskingfederal prison and the entire club's safety means nothing compared to destroying the threat that dared to reach for me.
"Elias,"Loganbarks, issuing a sharp command. "Enough.Don'tbleed him out in theChapel.Cleaningthe felt is a bitch."
Thechokehold lasts three agonizing seconds—enough time forBuzzCutto see his life flash before his bulging eyes.Witha sneer of disgust,Eliasshoves the agent away and straightens his massive frame.
Retreatingisn't an option.Steppingbackward, he plants his body directly in front of mine to form an impenetrable human shield.
BuzzCutrolls off the edge, violently coughing and clutching his bruised throat.Scramblingbackward toward his partners, his earlier bravado shatters completely.
"You..."Theagent wheezes, aiming a shaking finger atElias. "Youjust assaulted a federal officer."
"Iremoved a trespasser threatening a civilian,"Eliasstates flatly.Adjustinghis cuffs, he forces the monster down far enough to let the lawyer take the wheel. "Yourwarrant demands a search of the premises and the arrest of a suspect based on probable cause.Thatprobable cause relies entirely on an anonymous tip, making it inadmissible without corroboration.Youlack physical evidence and witness testimony.Yourentire case hangs on a digital echoIcan mathematically prove was spoofed."
Therapid pivot from brutal violence to cold logic threatens to give me whiplash.
"Youstill want to arrest her?"Eliaschallenges. "Proceed.Mylegal team will bury you afterIfile a counter-suit for harassment, excessive force, and gross negligence in verifyingyour intel.I’lltie you up in civil court for so long your grandchildren will be paying the attorney fees."
ThedisgracedFedglares, checking the exits with a flushed, sweating face.Shanestill holds the pump-action shotgun steady.Logankeeps his pistol resting over the bar.Austincasually adjusts the brass knuckles wrapped tight over his thick fingers.
Otherpatch-wearing brothers filter in from the back hallway.Chase, theEnforcer, fills the archway like a human tank.Ayounger guy namedBlake—aProspect—wipes machine grease off his palms with a shop rag, a heavy wrench dangling from his belt.
Theclub forms an unbroken wall, creating a silent, leather-clad semicircle directly behindElias.Logansteps up to hisTreasurer'sright shoulder, whileShanetakes his left, their physical presence an undeniable barricade.
Theydon't just stand behind him; they flank his claim.Thesemen barely know me.Iarrived merely as the outside auditor hired to examine their ledgers.Yet, becauseEliaspublicly claimed me, planting his uncompromising mark on my existence,Iam instantly recognized as family.
Hisbrothers are ready to start a war with the federal government simply becauseIbelong to him.Afterescaping years of transient foster homes and temp jobs, the terrifying reality of standing alone evaporates into the heavy smell of gun oil and absolute, unwavering brotherhood.
BuzzCutcradles his arm, favoring his splinted wrist—a brutal reminder of his first encounter with theTreasureron the mountain road.Thefederal agent looks fromEliasto the assembled wall of bikers, his defiance shattering.
Straighteninghis ruined suit jacket, the agent desperately claws for a shred of dignity. "Thisis far from over,Gunnar.We’llfind a judge to sign off on a hard warrant.We’llbe back."
"Bringa calculator,"Eliasorders dryly. "You’regoing to need to count your losses."
Theagents back step toward the exit.Retreatingis their only surviving option, fully aware they are outgunned and dangerously isolated from backup.
Slammingshut behind them, the heavy oak door locks out the federal threat.
Thethick tension suffocating the room instantly shatters.
Shanelowers the barrel of the shotgun, flashing a lethal grin. "Man,Ihate those feds.Theystink of cheap cologne and desperation."
Loganholsters his pistol, striding around the polished wood of the bar.Stoppingdirectly in front of us, his dark eyes drag overEliasbefore landing heavily on me.
"Youbleeding,Mia?"
Swallowinghard,Iforce the knot out of my throat. "I’mintact.Thankyou.Allof you."
Logandips his chin, shifting his focus back to hisTreasurer. "Youlost your control, brother."
"Hereached forher,"Eliasbites out.Theprimal justification hangs in the air, requiring zero further explanation to a room full of outlaws.
"Isaw."Atiny twitch hits the corner ofLogan’smouth. "Justmaking sure you’re back in the driver’s seat.Fightingthe federalgovernment and theCostacartel requires strategy, not just blind adrenaline."
"I’mbalanced,"Eliaslies smoothly.
