Tori—
When the light changes, Rafe goes another two blocks, then makes a turn into an industrial area.
The winds were bad riding over here, but Rafe handled his bike with skill, and it's obvious he knows what he’s doing.
I was able to relax and enjoy the ride across town.
I’m wondering if this right turn is some kind of a cut-through he uses.
But when we get to a dead end, and he turns into the lot of an old brick building and I see a bunch of motorcycles, I realize this must be his clubhouse.
The closer we get across the parking lot, the clearer the sign above the door becomes. It’s the same three skulls as the center patch on his back. He finds a spot and parks, and we both climb off the bike.
I take off the helmet and pass it to him. “That was fun.”
“The girl is hooked. I like it. Come on.” He holds his hand out to me, and I take it.
The place is crowded with people when we come through the door. I feel conspicuous in my jeans, sneakers, and little olive-green quilted bomber jacket. Loud music blares over the conversations.
The building obviously once housed some type of manufacturing operation, but all the machinery is long gone.
Open industrial type ductwork hangs from the ceiling.
The floor is polished cement and the walls are brick, the top half of which contain multi-paned, factory style windows covered in years of dirt and grime.
A pool table sits to the left, along with some tables and chairs. A bar sits to the right.
A set of metal stairs on the left wall just past the pool table leads up to a second floor, and the hallway up there appears to go deeper into the big structure.
I spot a couple of men coming in and out of a door on the other side of the staircase. It appears to lead to another long hallway.
Rafe leads me to the bar and greets some other men in the same leather vest he wears with the same patches.
A young guy clasps Rafe’s hand in an arm-wrestler’s grip and pulls him in for a hug. “Rafe.” When they release, he glances at me. “Who’s your friend?”
“TJ, this is Tori Sawyer. Tori, this is TJ, our president’s son.”
I give him a tentative smile, and he lifts his chin.
“Nice to meet you, Tori.” He switches his attention to Rafe. “Good thing you made it on time. How are the winds?”
“Getting worse,” Rafe replies. “Had to avoid a bunch of downed trees.”
TJ nods. “I’ve got to go talk to my dad. Make sure you introduce Tori to Gigi.”
“Will do,” Rafe answers. After TJ walks off, Rafe guides me to the bar. “What’ll you have?”
I shrug.
He calls over one of the men behind the bar. “You know how to make any vodka drinks, prospect?”
The guy’s eyes shift to me. “Sure. How about a crème br?lée martini?”
“What’s in it, Cody?” Rafe asks.
The prospect reaches behind him, grabs three bottles, and sets them on the bar, listing them off as he does. “Smirnoff’s Vanilla Vodka, Godiva White Chocolate liqueur and Bailey’s Irish Crème.”
Rafe looks back at me, lifting a brow. “Sound good?”
“It sounds great.”
The prospect smiles and taps the bar top. “Coming right up, Miss.”
“And give me a beer,” Rafe adds, and the man slides a longneck on the bar, ice chips sliding down its wet label.
“Thanks, kid.”
Another man comes up behind Rafe and slaps a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man.”
Rafe twists. “Hey, Billy.”
“How’s it goin’?” Billy asks, his eyes moving between me and Rafe.
“Billy, this is Tori Sawyer. Tori, this is Billy.”
Billy’s brow lifts. “Wait a minute. Sawyer? As in Sawyer Lumber?”
“Yes, actually. He’s my father.”
Billy locks eyes with Rafe. “I see.”
“Don’t start, brother.” Rafe’s words are sharp and low.
Billy lifts his hands, grinning. “Wasn’t gonna. You seen your old man, yet?”
“No, why?”
“He’s in the office with Cole and my father. They sent me to make sure you were here.”
“Jesus Christ. I’m here.”
Billy chuckles. “I see that.”
“We’ve got a full house tonight, huh?” Rafe muses, tipping up his bottle.
“Yep. It’s Mary’s birthday. Dad plans on surprising her after church. Cake and everything, I hear.”
“You get her anything?” Rafe asks.
“I got her a Starbucks gift card.”
Rafe makes a face. “That’s lame. She’s your mother, man.”
“It is not,” Billy protests, then turns to me. “Is it a lame gift?”
I shrug. “Not if she likes coffee.”
“She loves those mocha Frappuccino things. It’s a hundred bucks worth.”
I grin. “Then it’s an awesome gift.”
Billy puts his arm around me and looks at Rafe. “See, asshole. She knows. I like her already.”
Rafe puts a hand on Billy’s chest and shoves him off me. “Let her breathe, man.”
Billy chuckles. “Sorry, m’lady. No disrespect meant.” He sweeps into a bow like one of the three musketeers.
“You’re hilarious,” Rafe says.
“Billy! You’re up,” some guy shouts from the pool table.
“Gotta go. Nice to meet you, Tori.” Then he winks at Rafe.
The prospect sets a martini glass before me. “Here you are. Let me know if you like it.”
The contents are creamy, with a café au lait color. “Looks delicious.”
“Try it,” Rafe says.
I give it a small sip. “Oh, my God. That’s so good.” I look at the prospect. “Thank you for making it for me.”
He grins like I just gave him the best compliment. “My pleasure, Miss.”
“While we’re in Church, you give her whatever she wants, understand, prospect?” Rafe orders.
“Yes, sir.”
After he walks away, I take another sip and glance around. “You said you have a twin. Is he here?”
Rafe scans the clubhouse. “I don’t see him. He might be in the back fighting.”
“Fighting?”
Rafe grins, puts my drink in my hand, then snags my other. “I’ll show you.”
He leads me to the door on the other side of the staircase, and we walk down the hall. I can’t deny that I like having my hand in his. It makes me feel safe and protected, almost like I’m his.
At the end of the hall, he holds another door, and we come out into a large, expansive space with really high ceilings.
What draws my attention is the MMA cage set up across the room, a spotlight shining down on it.
I only know what MMA is because my friend Moira’s brother was into it and had it on the flatscreen whenever I visited her.
We all sat around with him one night and watched Conor MacGregor fight in Las Vegas on pay-per-view.
I had to admit, it was kind of exciting.
Two men are bouncing on their feet in the cage, dressed in long shorts, both bare-chested and slick with sweat. They jab at each other, and one spins and does a kick of some kind.
Several club members cheer them on, shouting loudly.
“Come on, Kyle. I’ve got fifty bucks on you, brother.”
“Don’t let up, Marcus.”
Rafe leans to my ear. “That’s my brother, Kyle—the one in the black shorts.”
I stare and my mouth drops open. It’s like watching Rafe up there. “Oh, my God. It’s uncanny.”
Rafe spreads his booted feet apart and folds his arms. “Guess so.”
I immediately pick up on the fact that his mood has changed, so I sip my drink and say no more, wondering the entire fight if Rafe is pulling for or against his brother.
Several women spectators stand in the crowd, and two of them jump up and down, excitedly cheering.
“Go, Kyle!”
“Get him, Marcus!”
“Who are they?” I ask Rafe, and he points a finger off his longneck in their direction.
“The one in the gold tank is Brandy, Marcus’s girl. The one in the blue is Sutton, my brother’s girl. The one in the sequins is Gigi, TJ’s ol’ lady. The one in the red sweater is Melissa, Billy’s ol’ lady, and also TJ’s sister.”
“Really?”
“Yep. And the one in the silver tank is Harley Jean. She’s with Reckless.”
Melissa grabs the arm of Harley Jean, and they both come over.
“Hey, Rafe. Introduce us,” Melissa orders with a smile.
“Melissa, this is Tori Sawyer. Tori, this is Melissa. She’s TJ’s twin sister and also our president’s daughter.”
Melissa sticks her hand out. “Hi, Tori. Welcome.” She looks at my drink. “I see Cody made you his specialty. I’m addicted.”
I laugh and feel completely at ease by her. “I can definitely see why.”
“Cody is Jake’s son. He’s prospecting for the club.”
“Prospecting?” I ask with a frown.
“It’s a probationary membership. He’s got to demonstrate his commitment and loyalty to the club before he earns his patch.”
“I see.”
“Enough about that.” She pulls her friend forward. “This is Harley Jean.”
I extend my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Her gaze moves between us. “So, how did you two meet?”
“Her father owns the business where I work. Sawyer Lumber.”
“Oh, I see. How cool is that?” Harley Jean says.
A roar goes up in the crowd behind them, and Brandy throws her arms in the air. “Yes!”
Another man is in the cage now, holding Marcus’s arm in the air, proclaiming him the winner.
I glance at Rafe. “Sorry your brother didn’t win.”
He shrugs. “I don’t give a damn if he wins or not.”
Melissa meets my eyes and makes a yikes face.
Someone pushes through the door behind us, sticking their head in and emitting a sharp whistle, drawing all heads around.
“Church in five minutes, boys!”
As the men file out, the girls surround me and take me to the bar, where we have it all to ourselves. Melissa sits on the stool next to mine.
Cody, the prospect—who I’m informed is not allowed in Church because he hasn’t earned his patch yet—lines us up more crème br?lée martinis, and soon we’re all giggling and sharing stories and jokes. It’s like I’ve known these women my whole life.
“What is that smell?” Brandy scrunches her nose.
“It’s really bad,” Sutton covers her nose.
“TJ probably took his boots off,” Melissa mutters, taking a sip of her drink.
“Are you gonna let her talk about your man like that?” Harley Jean raises her brows at the one in the sequins. I think her name was Gigi.
“I wouldn’t, except she’s right,” Gigi returns.
We all burst into laughter.
The prospect hurries over, having heard us, and pulls the trash out, tying it up. He looks at us seriously. “You don’t tell about the trash not being taken out, and I won’t tell TJ what you girls were all just laughing about. Deal?”
“Make us all another one of these”—Melissa taps a manicured nail against her empty martini glass—“and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
He nods and carries the trash away in a hurry.
Harley Jean heads to the jukebox in the back of the room, and Brandy, Gigi, and Sutton rack the balls on the pool table.
Soon, it’s only me and Melissa.
Cody returns, and she pushes our glasses forward. “We’re ready for that refill, Cody.”
I’m feeling a flush of heat and know I’m buzzed already.
She turns to me. “I think you and Rafe make a cute couple.”
“Oh, we’re not a couple.” I pull back, shaking my head.
Hers tilts to the side. “Coulda fooled me. How’d he end up bringing you here?”
“Um, well, it’s a long story and not a very pretty one.”
“Oh, my God, girl. You better spill the tea. Maybe I can help.”
I don’t know what possesses me, but I tell her everything—from the first time I laid eyes on Rafe bent over a squad car, cuffed and pissed off, to what happened tonight and how he came to my rescue, then refused to leave me alone.
“So, he brought you with him.” She murmurs the words as if she’s trying to figure something out.
“Yes.”
“I see. Well, if that doesn’t show you his true character, I don’t know what will. Rafe would never do anything to hurt you or let others hurt you.” She sips her drink. “I wouldn’t want to be that Connor guy.”
“Why?”
“Because hell’s gonna rain down on him. I guarantee it.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t want Rafe getting in any trouble because of me. I’d feel horrible.”
She huffs a laugh. “I don’t think you can stop it. That’s just the way these guys are.”
“But I’m not one of you.”
“You may not be part of this MC family. Yet. I saw the way that boy looks at you. Let me tell you… he’s into you. Big time.”
I bite my bottom lip, and her brow lifts.
“You don’t feel the same? He doesn’t make you feel all giddy inside?”
I blush, because he does, and she sees it.
“I thought so.” Her hand lands on my knee and she leans in. “Just because a man has a pedigree and a fancy diploma and all the money in the world, doesn’t make him a man who’d do right by you. You know what I’m saying?”
“Yes,” I reply, thinking about Alex Powers.
“Find a man with a good heart, one who’s not afraid to be vulnerable with you, and one who’ll protect you with his dying breath. Then you’ve found happiness.” She lifts her glass. “There. I’ll get down off my soapbox.”
“I hear what you’re saying.”
“Look, no matter what happens with you and Rafe, I hope we can be friends.”
“I’d like that,” I reply.
“Good. We’re all having brunch next weekend. Can you come?”
“Next weekend?”
“Yep. Sunday at 11am. Please say you’ll come.”
“I’d love to, if I can make it.”
Melissa pulls out her phone. “What’s your number?”
I reel it off, and she sends me a text.
Rosalie’s 11am next Sunday.
“There. Now you have my number.”
“Thank you.”
Some good music comes on over the speakers, and Harley Jean dances over to us.
“Let’s dance, ladies.”
“We’re talking,” Melissa says.
“What are you two talking about?” Harley reaches past me for her drink on the bar.
“I invited her to brunch next weekend.”
Harley’s eyes bug out, and she waves her hand like a fan while she tries to swallow down her gulp. “Yes! You have to come.”
All of a sudden, we hear a load roar and look at each other with wide eyes.
Cody leans on the bar, but at the sound, he moves to the front door and opens it. Rain pours down in sheets, and the wind blows the spray in on us.
“It’s really coming down.” He looks at the sky, then closes the door.
“The bikes are getting soaked. Maybe we’ll all spend the night here,” Melissa says.
“Here?” I straighten on my barstool. “I can’t stay here. I need to get home.”
“You told me that guy smashed in the glass on your back door? The place isn’t safe. I’m sure Rafe will want to get it fixed before he lets you stay there.”
The thought that he would look out for me fills me with warmth.
“He’s going to want to do something about that mirror he shot up, too, before your aunt comes home,” she adds.
“Oh, my God. I forgot about that.”
Melissa nods toward the guys behind the bar. “He’ll probably bring a couple of prospects to help with cleaning up the damage.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.”
She huffs a laugh. “Darlin’, get used to it. It’s just the way these guys are. He’s gonna take care of you. I guarantee it.”