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My jeans are draped over the recliner across from the bed, and I tug them on over my sleep pants. I jam my feet into my boots too because I’m just not comfortable walking around here in my socks.
Pocketing the room key, I glance at Rock one more time before venturing out into the quiet clubhouse.
I find Axel sprawled out on a couch in the lobby area. He tips his head up and flashes a brief smile. “Morning, Hope,” he rasps.
“Morning. Did you sleep out here?”
“Yeah. Prospects don’t get rooms,” he says with a tired grin.
Ah, to be young and still think it’s cool to sleep on some random couch.
“I need coffee,” I hush-whisper at him.
His face scrunches into a frown, but before he can say anything, a large hand shackles my wrist.
Definitely not Rock.
“Hey, you’re new. Come here,” he says, tugging me back.
“Get off me.”
“Mouthy little bitch,” he growls, grabbing me harder.
“Hey!” Axel says as he flies off the couch.
“My old man is gonna kill you,” I grind out through clenched teeth.
“You ain’t got no patch.”
Dammit. I didn’t know I needed to wear it everywhere like some sort of fucking safety vest.
“What the fuck’s going on here?”
I whip my head around to find a shirtless Murphy entering from the hallway with the blonde he was cozy with last night.
“Fuck off, upstate,” my groper growls from behind me.
To me, Murphy has always seemed very sweet and non-threatening. Burly and easygoing. I’ve apparently only seen one side of him, and I shouldn’t be surprised. He is, after all, part of Rock’s MC, and as willfully ignorant as I try to be, I know violence is a large part of their culture.
Before my eyes, Murphy transforms into pure menace. “What the fuck you say to me?” he asks with deadly calm.
“Mind your own business. This bitch is fair game.”
I finally manage to jerk out of his grasp. Just in time too, because Murphy crosses the room with lightning speed and wraps his hand around my tormentor’s throat, shoving him into the wall.
“She’s my president’s ol’ lady. You don’t even fuckin’ look at her without permission, you fucking inbred piece of shit. You sure as fuck don’t touch her. What the fuck’s your joke of a support club teaching its bitch-ass hang-arounds?”
The guy can’t answer because Murphy still has his hand clutched around his throat. He does sputter.
Axel comes over and curls his arm around me. “You okay, Hope?”
Too stunned to speak, I nod, and Axel walks me to the couch.
A few more threats and a good shake later, Murphy lets the guy go, and he stumbles down the opposite hallway.
“Motherfucker,” Murphy grumbles while walking toward me. “You okay, Hope?”
“Yeah.”
He plants his hands on his hips and jerks his chin at me. “Where’s Rock?”
“Sleeping.”
“Where’s your rag?”
“In our room. I just wanted… I didn’t think I needed to wear it this early.”
“I know, sweetheart. We shoulda explained things better.”
Murphy’s skinny blond friend returns, handing him a T-shirt and his cut. With all the commotion, I didn’t get a chance to appreciate bare-chested Murphy. What I thought was huskiness is bulky muscle covered in an explosion of colorful tattoos. Murphy plants a kiss on the girl’s cheek and slaps her ass. “Thanks, babe,” he says, clearly dismissing her.
Flicking his gaze at Axel, a smirk curls his lips. “What’s wrong, prospect? Couldn’t pull any tail?”
Next to me, Axel tenses. I frown. I appreciate Murphy saving me, but I hate how he’s constantly picking on Axel.
I’m frantically thinking of what to say when Axel beats me to it. “I got a girl at home. Don’t need some random skank.”
Murphy’s eyes narrow. “Your girl is underage, so you best be keeping your little pencil dick in your pants.”
“Why don’t you worry about where you park your own diseased dick and leave me and my girl alone?”
“What the fuck did you say, little man?” Murphy says, advancing.
Axel jumps up, ready to defend himself.
I spring off the couch between them. “Stop, guys. Please? Murphy, I could use your help.”
My pleading tone diffuses Murphy almost instantly. With one final glare, he turns away from Axel, dismissing him entirely. “What do you need, Hope?”
“I want to bring some coffee back for Rock. Where can I find it?”
Murphy slings his arm over my shoulders and pulls me toward the back of the room. “Serena should be able to help you out. But maybe I oughtta stick with you for now. I’ll walk you back to your room. Make sure you stay out of trouble.”
I bristle at his words, except he’s right. “Thanks.”
Two Styrofoam cups of coffee in one hand, Murphy leads me down the hall. He’s checking his phone, texting, and looking stuff up as we walk, so conversation is limited. When we stop in front of my door. I tug out the key and push open the door. Murphy hands me my coffee cups.
“After prez has had his”—he smirks and winks at me—“morning coffee, tell him I need to speak to him.”
Worried it’s about Axel, I try to get a little more information out of him. “Any more to the message than that? Is it urgent?”
“Nah. Just a highway report for him.”
“Highway? Are we leaving today?” I might sound a bit too eager.
“Probably not.”
Damn. “I’ll tell him.”
Murphy nods and pats my shoulder. Apparently, he’s not leaving until I’m safely inside.
“Thank you for taking care of me.”
His face lights up. “Anytime, first lady. Text me if you need anything. And no more wandering around here alone and unpatched, okay?”
“Trust me. I won’t.”
Enclosed in our room, it takes a second for my eyes to adjust. Rock’s still sound asleep, which makes me happy. I set his coffee on the nightstand next to him, shuck my boots and jeans, grab my book, and take up residence in the chair across from him. Every now and then, I lift my head and enjoy watching him slumber.
After a while, I get lost in my reading, but I sense his breathing has changed, so I look up to find him watching me.
“How long you been up, baby doll?” he asks in his sexy morning-rough voice.
Closing my book and setting it aside, I give him my full attention. “A little while.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I thought you needed some rest.”
A soft, bewildered smile curves his lips at my explanation. He tosses the covers aside and strides over to me. Settling his hand under my chin, he rubs his thumb over my cheek. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I’m not ready to tell him about the incident in the lobby yet. There’ll be plenty of time later to ruin his morning. Right now, I want to enjoy some peace and quiet with my man before God knows what goes on today.
His hand drops to the collar of his shirt. “Were you cold, baby?”
My shoulders lift. “A little.”
“I like you in my shirt.” He plants a kiss on the top of my head and pads into the bathroom.
When he reemerges, he notices the coffee and frowns. “Did you leave the room?”
So much for peace and quiet.
“Yes.” Rising from the chair, I meet him halfway and wrap my arms around his middle. “I wanted to bring you coffee.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” He picks it up and takes a sip.
“Still warm?”
“Yeah. Anyone bother you?”
That didn’t take long. “Well. Sort of. Some guy, I guess, thought—”
“What guy?”
“I don’t know. Murphy said from a support club? He was pretty rude, but Murphy and Axel took care of it.”
&nbs
p; Rock all but slams the coffee cup back on the nightstand and curls his hands over my shoulders, turning me to face him. “Are you okay?”
I wave my hand in the air between us. “I’m fine.”
“Were you wearing your patch?”
I thrust my chin up. “No.”
“Hope, I thought I explained—”
My temper flares at his tone, even though I expected the mini lecture. “You said I ‘could’ wear it all weekend, not I ‘must’ wear it all weekend—”
“Don’t fuckin’ lawyer me, Hope.”
That almost makes me laugh, but I’m still annoyed. “I didn’t know I was leaving myself open to being molested if I went to grab a cup of frickin’ coffee.”
“Whaddya mean molested?” Rock practically shouts while grabbing a pair of jeans and throwing himself into them.
“Rock. I’m fine. Please calm down.”
At my pleading tone, Rock slows his movements. “I’m sorry, baby. That shit shouldn’t happen.”
“Can we please spend some quiet time together before we go out there and do whatever for the rest of the day?” I ask with a flick of my wrist toward the door.
Rock’s whole demeanor changes with my request. “Of course, baby doll. Come here.” He pulls me close and wraps me in his arms.
“Thank you,” I murmur against his chest.
“Tell me what you need.”
“Just you. Just us for a little while longer.”
I’m seething with rage, knowing there’s a motherfucker in this clubhouse who dared put his hands on my woman. But I can’t ignore her request. Not when she asks with her soft, pleading tone and wide, innocent eyes. So finding this fuck and breaking every bone in his hand will have to wait. Besides, if I know Murphy, he’s busy taking care of the guy for me.
“Come here.” Adjusting my hold on her, I walk her over to the recliner and sit, pulling her into my lap. Right away, she tucks her legs up and curls her body into me.
“Did you sleep okay?” she mumbles into my neck.
I did, actually. Strange because I sure as fuck ain’t comfortable here. Exhaustion, I guess. “Yeah. Did you?”
She nods, her silky hair sliding over my shoulder.
Suddenly, her whole body convulses in a violent sneeze. “Crap. Sorry,” she mutters.
Brushing her hair off her cheek, I look in her eyes. “You’re not getting sick on me, are you?”
“I hope not. I think it’s just dusty in here.”
“Hmm.” I’m not so sure. And I wish like fuck we could go home today.
She picks up her head again. “Murphy wants to talk to you. About a highway report?”
“He does, huh?” I chuckle at that, surprised my tight-lipped road captain would give Hope even that much info. “He rescued you out there?”
She bristles at the question. “Yes, I always thought he was so sweet and mild-mannered.”
My blood quickly jumps to boil. It must have been bad if Murphy got that intense. I hum again, but Hope isn’t fooled.
All in a rush, she speaks. “I’m sorry. We haven’t even been here twenty-four hours, and I already screwed up, Rock. I’m trying so hard. I don’t want to make this trip harder or embarrass you—”
“Doll, stop. Please. You could never embarrass me.” If anything, I should apologize to her. This is partially my fault for not being clearer with her.
She lets out a soft chuckle. “Come on, Rock. The guys in your club barely accept me. I can’t imagine what these guys must think.”
Something about her words and her tone bothers me. She’s been voted in. Obviously, she still doesn’t understand how monu-fucking-mental that is.
“Baby, that’s not true and you fucking know it.”
I’m interrupted from a lengthier explanation by my phone going off.
Z: Sway wants us @ church in 2 hours. K?
An exasperated breath slips out of me. I need to get my head out of my ass and stay sharp.
I tap out a “yes” to Z, then hit up Murphy.
Stop by room.
“Everything okay?” Hope asks.
I’m not sure, but I don’t want to worry her.
“Yeah. Why don’t you get dressed? Murphy’s going to stop by in a minute. Then we’ll go down to the kitchen and have breakfast. If I know Tawny, she’ll have a big spread ready for everyone.”
“Should I go help her?”
“No,” I answer simply. I don’t like her waiting on the guys at my clubhouse. She sure as fuck ain’t doin’ it here.
A soft thump on the door turns my attention away from Hope bent over, pawing through her bag.
“I’ll be in there,” she says, pointing at the bathroom.
“Thanks, doll.”
One look at Murphy, and the lazy ease from the morning flows right out of me. “What up?” I ask, stepping aside so he can enter.
“Nothing. Z tell you about church?”
“Yeah.”
“Where’s Hope?”
I cock my head at him. “Getting dressed. Why?”
Murphy’s wide shoulders lift. “Just making sure she’s okay. She tell you about earlier?”
“Yeah, but you’re gonna tell me after you give me your highway report.”
“We’re clear to roll out tomorrow morning. Langan’s got from here to Catskill, and Klouse has up past twenty-four. We don’t have to take back roads unless you want to.”
Back roads could be just as risky, more places for surprise road traps, but they were usually small-town sheriff departments that were easier to handle than state troopers.
“Let’s see how things go down today. Sway tell you why he wants us at church?”
“Nope.”
Great. It wasn’t unusual for a visiting brother charter to be included, but I still didn’t like it.
“Okay, so who am I killing?”
Murphy’s mouth flattens into a grim line. “Fucking nobody hang-around from their support club. Don’t worry. We had a conversation after I dropped Hope off earlier.”
I don’t doubt it.
“She was runnin’ around unpatched, prez.” What he means is my girl was in the wrong, so besides the beatdown, there’s not a lot more I can do about it.
“She told me. He receptive to your advice?”
Now he smirks. “Sure. I used reason”—he lifts his right fist in the air—“and wisdom to get my point across,” he says, waving his left fist in front of him.
A snort of amused appreciation leaves me. “Nice. Thanks.”
“You know I got her back.”
“I know.”
From behind me, the bathroom door squeaks open. “Everything okay?” Hope asks, which I recognize is her way of asking if she can join us.
Turning, I’m relieved to find her in a loose turtleneck sweater, jeans, boots, and a smile. She’s covered from neck to toes—the way I want her around here. “Yeah, baby.”
Three sharp pounds on the door can only be Z. “Let him in. I’m gonna get dressed.” I drop a kiss on Hope’s head on my way to the bathroom.
The tension rolling off Rock as we enter the common room practically vibrates through me. He has his arm draped over my shoulders in what seems like a casual pose, but I doubt I could get away if I wanted to.
Not that I want to.
My attacker steps up to Rock, and I gasp at his face. His right eye is swollen almost shut. Lip split. He obviously had another “conversation” with Murphy.
“Uh, Rock, I gotta apologize for earlier. I didn’t realize she was with you.”
Rock smiles. But it’s not the easy or fun smile I’m used to seeing. It’s his hardened biker smile, and it’s more frightening than friendly.
“Apologize to my woman, not me.”
“Um, Hope, right? Sorry about earlier.” It’s hard to tell whether he’s sincere or scared of another beating.
I nod and whisper, “Sure. I forgot about the patch. It’s a little new to me.”
Rock’s hold on me tightens
. “Doesn’t fuckin’ matter.” He shoots a glare at the guy who I finally notice has a patch that reads “Peanut.” What an awful road name. I wonder how he got stuck with that. “You might want to learn no means no, clubhouse or not. Patched or unpatched. We clear?”
“Yeah, man. Are we good now?”
Rock glances at me. “Are you okay?”
I just want this over with. Rock’s pulsing with so much anger I’m afraid he’s going to kill this guy. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Rock lifts his chin at Peanut. “My RC do that to you?”
He flinches but answers, “Yeah.”
Rock glares at him a little longer. “We’re good. Keep away from her, though.”
“Okay. Thanks, man.” He flicks his gaze to me. “I really am sorry,” he says before taking off.
“Motherfucker,” Rock grumbles under his breath.
“Geez, I had no idea Murphy was so—”
“Violent?” Rock finishes for me.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“It’s a hard life. I told you, baby, any one of my brothers would kill to protect you.”
“I know. So does that earn Murphy special brownie points with you?”
His eyebrows draw down as he considers my question. I was really teasing, but he seems to be contemplating how to answer. “That’s not what it’s about, Hope.”
“I know. I was only kidding.”
He nods once and pulls me toward the kitchen.
A long table takes up one end of the industrial-sized kitchen. Bikers line both sides of the table, but a section at the end seems to have been reserved for us.
Z stands up and greets us, even though we just saw him like ten minutes ago. “Prez. First lady.” He pulls out a chair for me. Surprised, I take it.
Rock sits at the head of the table. Sway is at the other end. They nod to each other. I don’t see Axel or Hoot anywhere, so I guess prospects don’t get to eat breakfast either.
Murphy sets a bottle of water in front of me, and I thank him while uncapping it. After another quick glance around the table, I realize no other women are sitting down yet. There’s water on the table, but not much else.
