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Gunner is glowering, his thick arms still crossed over his barrel chest.
“Let’s go,” He growls, leading the way toward the door with his lumbering strides.
Rex smiles apologetically and places my hand in the crook of his elbow as we follow behind.
“Hey!” Zeke catches up, appearing along my other side. He flashes me his megawatt grin as he links his arm through mine.
I can’t believe what is happening here. I’m about to go to a biker party, escorted by not one, but two bikers on each of my arms. Never, ever in my wildest dreams did I ever consider this a possibility. A preacher’s daughter and the bikers? Yeah, right.
Gunner stomps down the hallways, turning right and then left. I eye the back of his leather jacket, taking in the Grim Rider patch and the scripted letters of “Grim Rider Motorcycle Club.” Every club member seems to have a patched leather jacket or vest. I know little about bikers, but I have heard that their leathers are a prized possession.
The sound of music and raucous laughter waft down the long hallway. We’re getting closer and closer. Finally, Gunner stops before a worn metal door, and it creaks as he pulls it open.
The rock and roll music pours out and hits me like a wave. There’s a smell of cigarette smoke, sweat, and a hint of liquor that seems to burn my nostrils. Despite the dimmed lights, I can make out a packed venue with partying bikers.
“After you,” Gunner grunts, though he’s still holding the door open patiently.
Zeke nudges me with his elbow when he leans down and whispers.
“Don’t worry. None of them will touch you. You’re mine.” His breath tickles against my skin and I feel a shiver run straight down my spine.
What is wrong with me?I should be terrified, but I just feel excited. Reallyexcited,if you know what I mean. My entire body feels like it's on fire.
I shouldn’t be doing this. These are the Godless people my father has always warned me about. But then Rex looks down at me and smiles, gently tugging me along.
I take a deep, silent breath and take a step. There’s no turning back now.
Chapter 7
Marigold
When I walk through the doorway, it’s as if I’ve entered a whole new world. It’s a kind of biker’s paradise. The vast room has a large horseshoe-shaped bar in the center, with pool tables on one side and tables on the other. There are booths and sofas tucked against the walls, all upholstered in black leather. Framed black and white photographs of motorcycles decorate the walls.
But enough about the scenery. It’s a real shock to see this many biker types in their natural habitat. The men from "church" earlier, along with a few more, continue to sport their matching leather jackets or patched vests. I see bikers of all different shapes and sizes, some pierced, and some covered entirely in tattoos. Most of the men are incredibly muscular, but even the slimmer ones look like they could snap me like a toothpick. And, I finally see some women, too.
I might be dressed in black just like them, but there’s no way that I could fit in with these ladies. I thought my dress was sexy, but their skintight minidresses put the amount of cleavage I’m revealing to shame. One blonde is in danger of a wardrobe malfunction at any moment and I’mpositivethat the brunette is going commando.
My heels click against the linoleum floor for about four paces before everyone has turned their bodies to check out the new arrivals. I feel myself stiffen, my posture becoming more rigid. There are hoots and hollers. A bald man steps in front of Gunner and we all slow to a halt while the men greet each other with one of those handshakes that is a mix of a high five.
“Gunner, my brother,” The bald man says in the raspy voice of a long-time smoker. “Rex, Zeke.” He nods towards the bikers to the side and behind me before obviously checking out my body. His eyes move slowly from my face, down my neck, and linger on my torso. His eyes range down my legs and to the tips of my toes before returning to stare at my face once again. It makes me feel uncomfortable and I squirm involuntarily. Zeke wraps his arm around my waist while the other men begin some idle chat.
“Let’s go get you a drink,” He murmurs, pulling me away towards the very center of the U-shaped bar.
Zeke perches with one elbow on the mahogany wood and his other arm is still wrapped loosely around my waist. It takes a moment for the bartender, an older bleached blonde in towering high heels, to saunter over.
She can’t move that fast in her leather micromini. There’s plenty of time to observe her face. She lights up with a huge smile when she sees Zeke. Then, in a flash, her lips quickly curl into a scowl when she notices his arm wrapped around me.
“The usual, Zeke?” She tries to make her voice sound girlish as she bats her fake eyelashes at him. Since she’s ignoring me, I take a long look at her tanned skin caked with makeup.
“Yeah, Lila. And whatever my lady’s having,” Zeke replies, pulling me closer and forcing me to look at him.
“Um,” I stammer. “I don’t know.” I’m mesmerized by the way Zeke clinks his tongue stud against his teeth.
Lila rolls her heavily lined eyes. “We don’t have any appletinis here.”
“I don’t know what that is,” I retort, but then I confess my ignorance in a much meeker tone. “I’m not much of a drinker.”
Lila lets out an impatient huff, but I choose to ignore it when Zeke smiles and cocks his head at me. I can’t believe that a man who’s so good-looking could be so kind, even if he is just trying to get me drunk.
