Elena began to haul me toward the main entrance of the clubhouse, which was two swinging doors with the Crimson Crows emblem stamped on the front.
I wasn’t surprised that I could feel that brute of a man tromping along behind us, though he was hanging back in the distance.
You’d think he’d be given a break from guard duty on his birthday. The most problematic part was it appeared that maybe he didn’t want one.
Elena pushed through to the chaos on the other side.
Heavy metal music blared, and while there were a ton of people outside, it seemed the main gathering was in there.
It was a full biker bar. A private one, clearly, but lacking no amenities.
High-top tables were situated up front, three pool tables running down the middle, and couches were hidden in the shadows along the right wall.
Toward the back on the left was an L-shaped bar, probably ten or so stools running each length, and to the back right was a stage elevated by two feet with a dance floor below it.
A haze of smoke curled through the dim lights, making the people scattered everywhere appear like figments of vapor.
A few dancing. Some tossing back shots while others were drinking straight from the bottle.
Laughing.
Shouting.
“Is everyone here a part of Crimson Crows?” I basically shouted it so Elena could hear above the raucous din.
It wasn’t like I knew much about biker life.
It’d always been a bit of fiction to me. Something fanciful and romanticized.
Full disclosure, what was going down in there was far fromromantic.
People groping each other in the darkened corners, one woman propped on a table while a biker kissed up between her thighs.
Elena gave a slight shake of her head. “Normally only family is allowed, but not tonight.”
Family.
She considered these brutes family.
She shrugged a little. “But the guys wanted to give Trevan a real bash, so they basically did a word-of-mouth invitation. Aton of old friends came from the last town where we lived, so I recognize most.”
A tiny frown tugged between her eyes. “But I think there are a bunch of people from Crimson Creek here, too. Probably out looking for a little taste of the wild side.”
“Is that what this really is? Wild?” I was pressing her.
But I needed to know.
I needed to know what the hell they were involved in and just how my brother had gotten himself entangled in it.
Air puffed from her nose as she continued to wind us through the mob.
Then she leaned close. “It’s a different lifestyle, Brinley, and at times it can be wild.”
She hesitated, peeking around like she was worried she was going to get caught dishing a betrayal, before she whispered, “Dangerous.”
Then she rushed, “But what they do is really important.”
Confusion smacked through me at her words. “What they do?”
