I drag myself back to the moment as we walk down the hill. A whirring comes from above my head, high pitched and sharp. Looking up, my eyes widen at the drone hovering above us.
Barking rumbles in the distance, and I jerk my headtoward the sound, fresh panic hitting me. It would be the perfect end to a terrible date if I got savaged by a pack of wild dogs.
Just as I process the thought, four dogs barrel toward us from the bottom of the hill, and I curse myself for willing them into reality. It is quite clear by now that my luck has completely run out, and I couldn’t think of anything else bad that could happen.
Only think good thoughts, Camile. Sprinkles on cupcakes, puppies, and kittens.
The man beside me sighs loudly and hollers at the top of his voice. “Call them off. She's okay.”
Turning to me, he offers me a brief smile. “You can wait outside while I go and fetch the Prez. There's no need for you to go in there. It's a bit wild tonight.”
I'm not sure I want to know whatwildmeans in this context, so I nod gratefully.
We reach the bottom of the hill, and my nerves desert me. My legs are shaking, and I want to turn and run back to that chain link fence, because I think facing Ledger might be preferable to what's in front of me.
Six massive men are standing around, two of them smoking weed, and the third one drinking from a bottle of vodka. The other three all have their hands on guns at their hips. The dogs stand by them, staring at me as if I’m a fine steak.
“What the fuck is this?” one of the men mutters.
“Watch your mouth,” my companion snaps. “She's best friends with Vani.”
At the mention of her name, the man changes his stance, and his expression softens. He gives me an almost respectful nod, then turns back to his friends as if I'm not there.
“Will you watch her for a moment, while I go and fetch the Prez?”
One of the men turns back to face us, and his eyes slide down me briefly before he gazes at the older man, nodding. I find myself hugging my shoes closer.
My savior brushes my shoulder, and it's a touch of reassurance, nothing more. “I won't be too long, miss.”
He pushes open the door of the long, low building, and a wall of noise and the smell of cologne and cigarette smoke hits me.
I get a glimpse of the inside before the door swings shut, and my eyes widen in disbelief.
There are topless women dancing on the tables, and the women serving behind the bar are also topless, but that’s not what shocks me, as bad as it is. Sitting near the door, straddling a man’s lap, is a woman with her skirt hiked up. The man she’s sitting on has her panties pulled to one side, and two fingers embedded deep inside her. Her head is thrown back, and she’s making sounds I can hear over the music, which means she’s being loud. My gaze drags down, down, down, until I’m looking between her legs. She’s parted them so her pussy is totally on display, and she’s so wet and swollen that each time the biker’s fingers slide out, they glisten with her arousal. I can’t look away until the door closes, cutting off the obscene view.
I’m shocked to find after all that I’ve been through that my body still reacts to that scene, and a pulse of arousal hits me. She looked so lost in her sexual high that for a moment I wonder what that must be like.
My face flushes with heat, and I swallow hard.
Shaking my head, dazed and regretting every single life choice of the past few hours, I walk away from thedoor. I stand on a stone and curse under my breath as pain stabs up through my sole. The grass has given way to a tarmacked road leading to the den of debauchery, and I just thank the gods it’s not gravel that I’m standing on.
Not daring to look at any of the men milling around, I focus on my feet as I pace. My chest is filled with the fluttering of anxious butterflies at the thought of seeing Vani’s dad again.
I turn my back to them and study the other buildings around us. There’s what looks like a few single-story houses, and a place that looks like a community hall. Beyond those buildings, up a dirt track, there’s a huge barn and what appears to be a row of garages. Beside those is a field that’s fenced off but has no animals in it. It’s all well lit with large floodlights.
All around the place are motorcycles, as well as a few muscle cars, some brand-new trucks, and a couple of old, rundown vehicles that seem as if they’re being worked on.
I wonder if Vani’s dad sleeps here on the compound, or if he’s found a house off the club grounds yet.
“What the fuck?”
The deep bass voice has me whipping around. My heart skips more than one beat as I look up into the pissed as hell, but still impossibly beautiful, face of Jack-the-blood McGrath.
His massive arms are covered in tattoos, and the sleeves of his white t-shirt strain against the bulk of his biceps. Over the white tee, he’s wearing a leather cut with patches that signify not only the club’s name of the Verona Falls Riders, but also that he’s the president. The outfit is completed with faded blue jeans and huge blackboots. His dark hair is swept away from his face, and just like his beard, is threaded with silver.
He’s even more intimidating than I remembered, and he’s staring at me as if I’ve personally burned down his compound. Then his stormy, gray-blue gaze travels down my body, taking in my cuts and grazes, my torn top, and my bare feet, and he looks even angrier, which I didn’t think was possible.
He steps forward and gently tips my chin up with one hand, examining my face for cuts and bruises, I guess. Then his eyes lower as he once more takes in the state of me.
