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“Beat the shit out of them?” Trax snapped, confirming it was definitely him who growled. She ignored the swirling butterflies in her belly.
She cleared her throat. “No. But can you talk to them, or I don’t know, show up and scare them or something? Get them to back off. I don’t think they’re dangerous, but, um…” She stopped short and stared down at the floor.
“What?” Trax asked
She shrugged, slightly embarrassed at admitting her own fear. “Like I said, I get home late from work after dark, so do a few other girls. And they just seem to be getting more aggressive lately…I don’t know…”
“They hang there every night?”
She nodded.
Trax stared back at her. “We’ll take care of it.”
“Yeah?” She grinned with a wave of relief. “Thanks.” She hoped she got the chance to see it when these guys showed up.
She turned to leave and walk toward the door. The quicker she got out of there, the better. None of the men said a word. She stopped in the hall, looking back through the door and smiled.
“I really am sorry about Mick.” She didn’t wait for a response and rushed down the hall through the bar, ignoring the shifting stools and stares. She made a beeline for the door, pushing it open, and the sunshine on her face had never felt so good.
She was never stepping foot in that place ever again. Never.
****
Trax waited by the edge of the door. He’d been waiting on Kase to emerge from the meeting for the past hour. While the rest of his brothers were drinking, drugging, and fucking, he was waiting like a bitch for the boss.
This was not how his day was supposed to pan out. He’d gotten the call early in the morning. They were driving out on a run in an hour. Completely fucked his day. He was scheduled to work on two bikes he’d promised by the end of the week. While most all the members held outside jobs from the club, Trax had his intermixed. His talent for building and repairing bikes had made him good money, and having the freedom to work from his personal garage, he was able to make his own hours. It was fucking perfect. But he still had deadlines, which were currently being screwed by the last-minute run.
He didn’t even have the chance to get off his bike when he met everyone at the clubhouse. They took off on their five-hour journey. According to Rourke, it would be a two-night stint. Two days behind schedule meant he’d be in his garage twenty-four seven when he got back. His customers would understand the delay. And if they didn’t? Tough shit. The club always came first.
The work wasn’t his biggest concern. The run also interfered with his promise to the brown-haired beauty from the other day. He’d spent too much time with her face in his head. Nothing had surprised him more when she’d walked into the club. She’d stood out like a rabbit surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves. Yet, she’d stayed with a purpose. He knew what outsiders thought of the club, and he knew the stigma he had when he wore his cut. The Ghosttown Riders had their wild and rough reputation to not only other clubs but to everyone around them. They struck fear in everyone they crossed paths with. It took a lot of courage and strength to walk into the clubhouse. It took something else to set aside her own fear and stay true to a man’s last dying wish. A big fucking heart.
He folded his arms and sighed heavily, giving a scowling glare to the redhead making her way to him. She curled her lips, her tongue poking out, licking the bottom lip and curving around to her mouth. She was hot. Stacked the way he liked it—tits, ass, and curves. A week ago, he would have taken her in the back to one of the bedrooms without even getting her name. He waited for it. Just a spark of desire or want. Nothing. Now, had she been a stunning brunette with long wavy hair and dark eyes with lashes for fucking days? A pouty lower lip that jutted out when she smiled, making her nose crinkle and turn upward? If she had soft tiny hands that fit into his like a fucking glove…. Fuck! She was not Cheyenne, not even close. He drew in a harsh breath, silently berating himself for letting Cheyenne invade his mind. She stopped an inch from his chest. She stood waiting on him for something. He knew what she wanted, but she wasn’t getting it.
She reached out her hand.
“Don’t touch me unless I tell you, and I’m not fucking telling you.” His tone was harsh and venomous, exactly the way he intended. She shied away slightly, proving she wasn’t quite the seductress club whore she thought she was. With wide eyes, she glanced to the bar. He followed her gaze to see Gage grinning like a fucking idiot.
He must have sent her over. Fucking Gage. He gave him the finger and turned back to the girl in front of him. She stared up at him as if waiting for instructions. He had neither the desire nor the patience to deal with her, but there was something in her face. It held him back from telling her to fuck off. Some women were made for the club life. This girl in front of him was not.
Usually, he would tell a woman to fuck off and be done. The words couldn’t pass through his lips, though. He shook his head. “I’m not interested.”
She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief from the way her shoulders sagged, and her face eased. She nodded with a small smile. “Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry.”
She quirked up her lip and turned, heading back to the bar and a waiting Gage who would gladly take his place between her legs.
The door to the office opened, and the three men emerged. Trax pushed off the wall and waited. Kase said a few words before coming over to him.
“Everything settled?”
Kase eyed the room and gave a quick nod of his chin. “Yeah, they’re in. Had to give more than I wanted, but they got a bigger reach and more garages. We’re gonna let them think they got the better deal.” Kase smirked. “Five fucking years in the making and the shit’s all coming together.” Although it was rare, Kase was letting down his guard a bit. There was no denying the tinge of excitement.
It had taken some time, longer than predicted, but Kase was making it happen and staying true to the club becoming ninety percent legit.
It had been a hard sell to the club five years ago when Kase brought the idea to the table. The vision itself was brilliant and would prove to be lucrative for all. However, in order to get to where they wanted to be took an immense amount of sacrifice from the club as a whole. All earnings went directly to the club. No one got paid, including Kase. The members were forced to live purely on their side jobs, which made for hard times for some, especially those with families. Finally, it was all coming full circle, and they were close to reaping the benefits.
The plan came in two parts, the first being their relocation. They were heading back to where it all began. Ghosttown. It was a prime spot for them since it had been their home at one time. The desolate area was also key. Most clubs had clubhouses, but they would have a whole town. In the past years, they were able to purchase all the available property throughout the entire town. While the square footage of the town was in abundance, the residents were not. At last count, the population was forty-six. Kase had big plans for the town and made it so when it started to boom, the club would be in complete control. It was a slow process to not bring any attention to themselves. They had a close friend of the club form an LLC and purchase the properties sporadically on their behalf.
