Page 5 of The Biker’s Secret Claim (Chaos Brothers MC #2)
He strides forward, cutting through the damp evening air, boots scuffing against wet pavement. There’s something calming about the way he moves. There’s no panic in it, like he’s in complete control.
His expression, though… his expression is anything but calm. “Let her go,” he barks deep and raspy.
Aaron stiffens, barely glancing toward him before directing his gaze at me. “Nicole, in the car! Now!”
“I said, let her go.” This time, the man steps in closer. Not threateningly, just there . The scent of oil, leather, and something unmistakably him cuts through the air, sending my pulse into overdrive.
Aaron’s fingers weaken, and in that split second, the man reaches out. Not yanking, not forcing, just… freeing .
What the hell just happened?
My heart rattles against my chest as I stare up at the giant biker, unsure of what to do or say.
Do I thank him for the help, or do I make a scene about how rude it is that he interjected himself into something that wasn’t his to fix?
“Can I help you?” Aaron stares up at the man, frustration shaking his usually stable voice.
“No.” I see now the biker has his name on his jacket. How did I miss that earlier, and why is his name Ghost? What kind of name is that?
“Then I think we’re going to head out.” Aaron grips my arm again, dragging me toward the car as rain continues its effort to soak my hair.
For a second, I allow him to drag me. I allow him to dictate how this will go. I’m not sure why. Then all at once, I snap.
“I’m not going back to the house!” I pull my arm away from him, realizing Ghost has followed.
“Let’s do this at home.” Aaron leans in toward me, pushing his glasses back up onto his face. “You need a warm shower and some relaxation. You’ll feel better.”
“No!” The word spits from my lips as though I’ve been holding it back for years and my body is involuntarily reacting. “I don’t want to go back to the house to get warm. I don’t want to relax! I want to live.”
“Is this living?” He narrows his brows and stares toward the giant biker.
I don’t answer. I don’t answer because I don’t know.
I don’t have any intention of going after the biker, I just…
I need some space to figure out who I am.
Besides, I don’t know if the man behind me is out to kill me, imprison me, befriend me, or fuck me.
Maybe that’s the point. Maybe that’s the fun of it all.
That said, there are no words that I could ever conjure that would make Aaron understand any of what I’m feeling.
“It’s over,” I finally say, heart slamming against my chest.
What am I doing? I have nowhere to go, nowhere to sleep. Every dollar I have goes into the shop.
“What?” Aaron steps forward, his hand on my shoulder. “Get in the car.”
“She said it’s over,” Ghost’s voice echoes in from behind, dark and rumbling.
“You’re one of those guys, aren’t you?” Aaron steps around me toward the giant man who won’t leave well enough alone.
“Those guys?”
“Everyone in town is talking about you assholes.” Aaron holds his stare heavy on Ghost. “You’re one of those hitmen. You’re here lying low or hiding out or something.”
Hitmen?
Ghost doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t step back. He doesn’t even blink.
Instead, a slow, dangerous smile tugs at the corner of his mouth just enough to unsettle, just enough to send a sharp pulse through my chest.
“Hitmen?” Ghost repeats, voice low, edged with something unreadable. “That’s what people are saying?”
Aaron scoffs, pulling me another step toward the car. “You think I don’t hear things? Small towns talk. There’s a group of you, all rolling in on those damn bikes like you own the place. Everyone’s onto your shit. Patterns don’t lie. The five of you have been fucking up since you got here.”
Ghost’s gaze flicks between us, assessing, deciding. “I hear you like your patterns, don’t you?”
Aaron’s grip tightens instinctively as he glances toward me, flecks of anger in his gaze. “You know him? Have you told him about me?”
“Not, really. No . I mean, we met at the record store earlier. I said you liked your routine is all. It’s,” I glance toward Ghost, “this isn’t your business.”
Ghost tilts his head slightly, like he’s amused. “Nope.”
I feel the weight of the moment. The pressure thick in the damp air, curling around my chest like a second skin. How did I let this get so out of control? I’ve known for a while I wasn’t happy. I should’ve left then.
Aaron shifts closer, lowering his voice as he says, “You think she wants this? You think she wants you ? She doesn’t know what the hell she wants. Every day it’s something new.”
Ghost’s gaze drops to mine then, rain catching on the edges of his jacket. “I think she wants out, and you’re not listening.”
Finally! Someone who hears me! Why is the massive, scary hitman the only one who’s hearing me?
My heart slams against my chest as I glance toward Aaron. “I’m sorry. I’m going to call Sienna. I need to clear my head.”
Aaron doesn’t say a word. Instead, he shrugs, shakes his head, gets into the car, and drives off into the night, leaving me standing beside a man who calls himself a Ghost.