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“Trinity.” His voice was low, a growl of determination laced with an undercurrent of concern. He strode toward her, his boots echoing on the wooden floor. “My Little Rabbit.” His tone shifted as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind herear, “I know this is a hard situation. But I swear on everything I am—we'll protect you.” The juxtaposition of his tender gesture with the rage etched on his face conflicted her. She hadn’t seen this side of him. In that moment, she saw the man who would fight to the ends of the earth for those he loved, the leader who would guard his own with a ferocity unmatched.
Unsure of what to do, how to remove the conflict and anger etched onto his features, she stepped closer to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “I trust you.” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of her world.
“You don’t know what those words mean to me,” Lucky replied, his grip firm but gentle on her shoulders. “I need you to follow my lead, stay safe. Can you do that for me, Little Rabbit?”
Trinity looked up into his stormy eyes and found her resolve. This man and this club, they were more than just a part of her life. It had been a short time since she’d been thrust into this mix, and everything was moved along quickly. Looking around, she knew they were her chosen family. And she would stand with them against whatever threatened them.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“If any of these men—” he gestured to the officers standing in the room, “Or Kylie give you an instruction, I expect you to follow it immediately. It’s for your protection and your safety. Any hesitation or failure to obey will have the same consequences as direct disobedience to me and will result in a discussion. Do you understand, Little Rabbit?”
Her butt throbbed at his words. “I understand.”
His nod was almost imperceptible, a silent acknowledgement of the trust she placed in him. “I have to return to the men. Make yourself comfortable. There’s food in the kitchen. Off to the right is a quiet living room with a TV in it. You can go anywhere you want in this building, but do not leave. You aresafe here. Upstairs are several private rooms. The one furthest down the hallway is my suite. The code on the door is 110216. You are welcome to hang out there. You can take a nap, or a bath, whatever you want.”
“How long am I going to be here?”
“Until I know you are safe.” As he turned to leave, Lucky paused and glanced back at her, his eyes softening. “We've got this,” he reassured her, before stepping back into the fray.
Trinity watched him rejoin a group of men. Savage, Slash and Rampage all turned and waved at her. She may not ride a Harley or wear a cut, but she was as much a part of The Watchmen as the steel and rubber that carried them.
CHAPTER 6
LUCKY
Lucky’s boots crunched the dirt underfoot, his silhouette a menacing line against the waning light as he approached the water fountain. Around him, the other officers were spread out, ready to strike. Tension hung thick in the air, electric and taut as the steel cables of a suspension bridge. Lucky's eyes, sharp as flint, scanned his brothers—each one cloaked in the same grim determination that set his jaw in a hard line.
“Where is he?" growled Rampage, the club's enforcer took his job seriously. In his opinion, as he’d told Lucky more than once, this should be his battle.
A figure emerged from the shadows, shoulders slouched, head down. Viper. The traitor. The air shifted, charged with betrayal and disbelief.
“Start talking,” Lucky commanded, his tone leaving no room for bullshit.
Viper lifted his gaze, shifting uncomfortably under the collective stare. “I didn't have a choice,” he blurted, “They got to me, said it was either play ball or they’d?—”
“Or what?” Lucky cut him off, stepping closer. “You put us all at risk. You put Trinity in their crosshairs. How dare you ask her to be your messenger.”
Viper's face twisted, a mix of fear and defiance battling within. “You think I wanted this? I had no choice!”
“Proof,” spat Slash, Lucky’s sergeant-at-arms. “We need proof, not your sob stories.”
“Proof…” Viper hesitated, then pulled out his phone, hands shaking. “Got messages, threats…”
“Hand it over,” Lucky demanded, his voice a blade slicing through the tension. Viper complied, surrendering the device to the man who once called him brother.
Lucky's thumb flew over the screen, eyes darting across the digital venom. His gut churned. This went deeper than he thought. He could taste the bitter tang of deceit and desperation. Viper wasn’t lying. They threatened his widowed mother and his younger sister. Didn’t matter. He should have gone to Hunter or to Lucky if he wanted to move it out of their chapter. He had hundreds of Watchmen brothers around the country that would have rallied behind him. Instead, he took their bait and played their game. He looked up, meeting Viper's eyes. “You understand what happens now?”
Viper nodded, the fight draining out of him. "Yeah, I do."
“Bringing Trinity into this, threatening Hunter’s woman, putting The Watchmen in danger—it's a line you can't uncross.” Lucky's voice was cold, unyielding as the steel of his Harley.
“We'll deal with the rival MC who put the cartel onto us, but there's no road back for you. You're out.”
The words landed like a final nail in a coffin, sealing Viper's fate. Around them, the other members of The Watchmen murmured in agreement, a chorus of bitter acceptance.
“Remember this,” Lucky continued, his presence commanding the space, “Trinity is under our protection. She willnot be a pawn in your game. Our wrath isn't something you want to test again.”
As Viper slunk away, Lucky felt the weight of leadership bearing down on him. There was a war brewing, one that threatened to engulf everything he held dear. But he was the president of The Watchmen, protector of his chosen family, guardian of the fierce woman who'd stolen his heart. And as sure as the thunderous roar of a Harley's engine, he knew one thing: No one messed with what was his. Not without paying the price.
