Page 32 of The Biker’s Second Chance (Chrome Creed MC #2)

THE brAT RETURNS

SPIKE

I wake to the weight of her.

Jaynie is sprawled across my chest, one arm hooked over my ribs, her leg tangled with mine. Her hair is a soft mess against my skin, and for a second I forget it all. The blood, the screaming, Zero dying in my arms.

All I know is her heartbeat steady against mine.

And it feels right. Too damn right. Like this is how I should wake up every day until the end.

I tighten my arm around her. The thought hits me sharp and dangerous. I do not just want her here now. I want her here always.

A knock at the door ruins it.

“Church, Spike,” Rumble calls, his voice muffled through the wood.

I press a kiss into Jayne’s hair before sliding out from under her. She stirs but doesn’t wake, and I let her stay. She needs the rest. She deserves it.

By the time I get into church, the room is buzzing. Leo is at the head, arms crossed, eyes flicking up at me like he expects me to sit down and keep my mouth shut. But I don’t.

I stand there, jaw tight, and speak before I can second-guess myself. “We’re not giving up. Not after Zero. Not after everything Xavier has pulled. He thinks he has us cornered, but he is dead wrong. We’re Chrome Creed, and we’re gonna bury that motherfucker.”

The room goes still.

Lash’s brows shoot up. Torch whistles low. Even Leo leans back in his chair, watching me like I’ve grown a second head.

But nobody argues. Not one fucking word. Heads start to nod.

For the first time since I put this kutte on, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I can do this.

Raised voices outside cut through the room. Shake’s voice, loud and pissed, followed by a shrill female voice that makes my temples ache.

“What the hell now?” Leo mutters.

“Lash, Rumble. Check it out,” I say before Leo can give the order himself. He doesn’t stop me. He doesn’t even frown. Just tilts his head like he’s curious what I’ll do with this.

A minute later, the door to church bangs open.

Rumble is dragging in a tall blonde who looks like she belongs on the cover of a cheap tabloid.

Fake tan, straw-colored hair, tits nearly spilling out of a low-cut top.

Her heels click loud as she digs them in, fighting Rumble like he is trying to haul her off to jail.

It takes me a second to figure out where I know but all at once it clicks.

She's one of the women who we rescued, sort of, from the party.

The one who was winking at the men. The one who seemed like she wanted to be there.

“Hands off, biker boy!” she screeches, slapping at his arm. “Do you know who the fuck I am?”

“Yeah,” Rumble snaps back, “you’re the pain in my ass that won’t shut up. Didn't you learn your lesson at that party?”

She gasps like he just slapped her. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know, I was the highlight of that party. Men were lining up for me. If it wasn’t for your little biker stunt, I’d be living in silk sheets right now.”

“Oh yeah?” Rumble grins sharp. “Pretty sure the only silk you’d be wrapped in is tied around your wrists.”

The room bursts into laughter. Torch nearly spits out his beer. Even Leo’s lips twitch, though he hides it behind his hand.

The woman stomps her heel down on Rumble’s boot, making him yelp. “Ow! Fucking hell!”

“Don’t touch me, caveman,” she snaps, tossing her hair like it is supposed to mean something. “My name’s Mariah. And unlike you idiots, I actually know people. Important people. People Xavier cares about.”

That gets my attention. The laughter dies quick. Every eye in the room snaps to her. She smirks like she just won a prize.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she purrs. “I’ve got contacts. Numbers. Things you dumbasses wouldn’t know how to use if they were tattooed on your foreheads.”

Rumble rolls his eyes so hard I think they might get stuck. “Lady, the only contacts you’ve got are in your purse and they’re colored blue.”

Mariah gasps again, pressing a hand to her chest. “Are you insulting me? Do you know how many men would crawl on their knees just to lick my shoes clean?”

“Yeah, because they’re drunk and your tits are hanging out,” Rumble fires back. “That ain’t a skill, sweetheart. That’s gravity.”

Torch is laughing so hard he slides halfway out of his chair. Even Lash cracks a grin.

Mariah rounds on Rumble, jabbing a manicured finger into his chest. “You are a Neanderthal. A brute. An absolute embarrassment to mankind.”

“And you,” Rumble snaps, “are a walking advertisement for bad decisions.”

They are nose to nose now, both red-faced, both refusing to back down. It is ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.

“Enough,” Leo finally says, but he is smirking. He looks at me. “You gonna do something about this?”

I step forward, keeping my voice calm even though inside I am itching for this woman to stop wasting time. “Alright, Mariah. You’ve got five minutes. Make them count.”

She straightens, brushing her hair back like she is posing for a camera. Her gaze flicks to me, sizing me up. She tilts her chin, bratty as hell. “Finally. Someone with actual authority. Good to know this place isn’t just a boy’s club.”

Rumble mutters under his breath, “Oh, it’s a club alright. You’re just not the kind of member we recruit.”

Mariah ignores him, planting a hand on her hip. “Here’s the deal. Xavier’s men? They’re sloppy. They like to brag. Especially to me. Because, well…” She gestures down her body. “They think I’m easy. Joke’s on them. I’m expensive.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rumble groans. “Can we get a translator for the delusional?”

Mariah spins to glare at him. “I’ll have you know, I’ve survived on my wits and my charm. That’s more than you can say.”

“Lady, you’ve survived on vodka cranberries and men dumb enough to buy them for you,” Rumble shoots back.

"I already told you my name is Mariah, but you can call me Princess if you like" She gives his a too sweet smile and he rolls his eyes. It's not very often I see Rumble on the bad side of a woman. It's a treat in this shitty day.

Lash chuckles. “He’s not wrong.”

Mariah whirls around again, pointing a finger like she is about to cast a spell. “One more word out of you, caveman, and I swear?—”

“What? You’ll blind me with your highlighter?” Rumble cuts in.

The room erupts in laughter again, but I raise a hand to silence it. Enough. She is loud, bratty, entitled, but I can see something underneath it. She knows something.

“Mariah,” I say, drawing her attention back. “You’ve got information. Start talking.”

Her lips curl into a smug smile. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

And just like that, for the first time since Zero went down, I feel the bones of a plan starting to take shape.

But the question stays lodged in my chest. How the hell do we draw Xavier out when we know he is already hunting us?