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The question startles me. Packwood is a peaceful place; the idea of a rowdy motorcycle club disrupting that tranquility seems alien. I shake my head, offering a polite smile. “Just rumors, I bet. You know how stories get twisted and blown out of proportion.”
But his words linger, casting a shadow over my previously carefree mood. As I head home, his ominous warning echoes in my mind. And then, as if to validate the farmer’s claim, a thunderous roar fills the air.
A group of men on motorcycles tear through the main street, their laughter and shouts echoing off the buildings. Empty beer bottles are flung into the street, shattering against the asphalt. The sight of them, so blatantly disruptive and disrespectful, sours my expression. One of them makes eye contact, and he raises his hand to form a V with his fingers, darting his tongue between them lewdly. I look away quickly, suppressing a shudder.
CHAPTER3
Slash
I rollinto Packwood on my Harley, the low rumble of the engine announcing my presence to the small town. I typically don’t roll into a small town like this unnoticed. I scan the sleepy streets, taking in every detail, searching for any signs of trouble or the enemy I’m hunting. I’m here on a mission, and I won’t let anything or anyone distract me from getting the revenge I crave.
My hair is tied back, and the wind whips my face—and the jagged slash across my cheek that serves as a constant reminder of the life I’ve chosen. The scar might look intimidating to some, but it’s just another part of who I am, earned during a vicious fight with an MC that tried to fuck with the Reapers.
After what feels like an eternity of searching, I finally pull up to a cheap motel on the outskirts of town. The neon sign flickers overhead as I dismount from my bike, the gravel crunching beneath my boots. I roll my neck and shoulders, trying to shake off the uneasiness. Every new place brings new challenges and risks, and I can’t afford to let my guard down.
As I step into the motel lobby, the door jingles, announcing my presence. I barely have time to take in the worn-out décor before my eyes lock onto the woman behind the check-in counter. Her long, wavy hair frames a face that’s both sweet and shrewd. Her name tag reads “Sadie.”
“Hey there,” she greets me with a warm smile, her voice like honey. “Welcome to Packwood Motel. How can I help you?”
I clear my throat, trying to clear away the unexpected attraction that’s hit me like a ton of bricks. “I need a room for a few nights,” I say, my voice low and rough, betraying my nerves.
“Of course!” Sadie replies, her fingers dancing across the computer keyboard as she looks up the availability. “We have plenty of vacancies. Just need your ID and a credit card for incidentals.”
I hand over my information, and she processes my reservation quickly. Our fingers brush when I take back my ID and card, and a spark of electricity runs through me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this kind of pull toward anyone, and it throws me off balance. I need to stay focused on my mission, but something about Sadie has me reeling.
I can’t help but notice her eyes flicker to my facial scar as we continue our conversation. She tries to be subtle about it, but I catch her gaze lingering on the mark that stretches across my cheek. It’s a testament to the battles I’ve fought, both physically and emotionally, and it seems to hold a strange fascination for her.
She’s clearly trying to be polite, not wanting to draw attention to it, but I can see the curiosity and a hint of unease in her expression. A part of me, the part that thrives on power, secretly thrills at watching her squirm. There’s something undeniably satisfying about making her feel something, even if it’s unintentional.
But what sends a jolt straight to my cock is the way her cheeks flush with color when I catch her staring. It’s as if she’s embarrassed to be caught looking, as though she knows she shouldn’t be so intrigued by my scar but can’t help herself. The sight of her blushing only adds to her allure, making her even more irresistible. She’s fiddling with the jangly silver bracelets on one wrist, and I find it inexplicably sexy. I want to tell her that it’s okay—that I’m used to people staring, and it doesn’t bother me—but I let the moment hang between us.
I try to maintain a stoic exterior, not wanting to give away the fact that I’m enjoying this little game. But deep down, I can’t deny the thrill it gives me to see her staring at me so intently. It’s a dangerous temptation, one that threatens to distract me from my mission, but for the moment, I indulge in the pleasure of watching her reaction. And it’s not just her fascination with the gash across my face. I get the distinct feeling that she’s seeingme.
“Here’s your key,” she says, fumbling it and letting it fall to the counter. “Shit, sorry. Um, you’ll be in room 12, just around the corner. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, struggling to regain my own composure. I let my eyes linger on her for a moment longer, taking in her gentle curves and the way her eyes seem to sparkle when she looks at me. Then I give her a crooked half-smile. Her mouth drops open slightly, and I turn to go.
“I hope you enjoy your stay in Packwood,” she calls after me.
I pause, glancing back at her. “Yeah, thanks,” I say, suddenly wanting nothing more than to stare at her gorgeous face all day, but deep down, I know that no matter how enchanting this girl is, I can’t let her distract me from the task at hand. I have a mission to complete, and I can’t afford to lose focus – not even for Sadie.
With one last lingering look, I head to my room, my thoughts a whirlwind of revenge, duty, and the undeniable pull of the sweet girl behind the motel desk.
Once inside my room, I set my bag down on the worn-out bedspread and take a moment to survey my surroundings. The room is small and basic, with faded wallpaper and a TV that looks like it’s from another decade. It’s not much, but it’s all I need for now – a place to rest, regroup, and refocus on my mission.
I take a seat at the small table by the window, pulling out my laptop and the intel I’ve gathered so far. My mind races as I study the information, trying to piece together the puzzle of the Iron Serpents. I know I’m close, that I’m on the verge of making them pay for what they’ve done, but every lead seems to dead-end or slip through my fingers. It’s frustrating, but I won’t let it deter me. I owe it to my family to see this through to the end. And this is closer than I’ve ever been. Sure, I’ve known this whole time that they were responsible, but I haven’t been able to track down their leaders yet. The Serpents are obsessed with secrecy, and their president and VP rarely travel with the group. All my attempts to follow the club members back to whatever hideout the head guys are using have failed.
As I pore over the intel, my thoughts drift back to Sadie. Her image haunts me—her smile, her eyes, the way her presence seemed to light up the dingy motel lobby. I’ve had more than my share of hookups with club groupies and random women, but the only thing I’ve ever felt is lust. The way Sadie stared into my eyes made me want to know her—to see what’s behind that gaze.
I shake my head, trying to push her from my thoughts. This is no time for distractions. I have a job to do, and wasting time fantasizing about a stranger could jeopardize everything, let alone actually getting involved with her. No, I have to leave her alone. Any connection to me would only put her in danger and distract me from what’s important.
I shake my head roughly.The fuck is wrong with you?Am I really so weak that I can’t share a single charged glance with a woman without losing my shit?
Sitting on the pathetic excuse for a mattress, I scribble out a to-do list for how to tackle my time in Packwood. But it’s useless. Just the thought of Sadie has me rock-hard, and I unzip my jeans so my cock doesn’t tear right through the seams. I wonder what she tastes like…
Trying not to think of her is a losing battle. I free myself from my jeans and grip my shaft, picturing her face staring up at me as she takes me into her mouth.
The image of her on her knees is so vivid I can practically feel those silver bracelets on my skin as she grips my thighs hard enough to bruise. If she’s as tight as her mouth is in my head right now, I’m going to turn her inside out when I fuck her—and suddenly I know itiswhen, not if. I’m only going to be in Packwood for a few days, so how badly could I really wreck her life? I’m thinking with the wrong head, but in this moment, IknowI’m going to have her.
