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13

RAVEN

W e’re silent on the ride to the clubhouse, but Wraith’s palm sits warm on my thigh as I wrestle between my body and brain.

The sensible part of me, the woman who fled danger once and promised to never end up back in it, is sending huge red warning flags up into the air. Going anywhere with Wraith is a huge mistake.

Responding to his attention was understandable. My husband made me feel lonely for years. Wraith is an attractive man, both physically and in that utterly competent way he navigates the world.

Self-assured.

Capable.

But he’s a biker. A member of a notorious criminal enterprise. I don’t know what he’s done in the name of his club. He could be taking money from local businesses in the name of security, or killing people.

Yet my body is sucked back into that kiss.

I’ve never been kissed like that. Even from the small sample in the hallway, I know for sure that no man has ever moved me with his lips like Wraith did.

Every part of me came alive. For the last year of my marriage, I would flinch if my husband so much as breathed near me. But I lay back and did what I believed was my duty as a wife.

Yet with Wraith, my clit ached to be touched, and my peaked nipples brushed against the lace of my bra. My skin tightened across my body in anticipation of what might happen next.

Until I became logical again and pushed him away.

I lick my lips and swear I can still taste him.

Yes, he came for me. When he thought I might be in the path of danger, he didn’t leave me unprotected to face it alone. He pleaded with me to let him keep me safe.

“Stop overthinking,” Wraith says before squeezing my thigh.

I bite down on the side of my thumb as I look out the window. “How did you know?”

He huffs a laugh. “You’re easy to read, Blue.”

“So much for feminine mystique.”

There’s a high metal gate at the base of the trail to the clubhouse, with high cameras pointed at the road. It wouldn’t be enough to stop people on foot, as they could walk around it and cut through the dense and mature trees surrounding the property. But it is definitely intended to stop vehicles.

We approach a second gate, this one connected to a large security fence that must run around the clubhouse, and I’m relieved at the sight of it.

The club lot is chaotic as we pull in. There are trucks, bikes, men in the same leather vests that Wraith wears, and lots of weapons.

Nausea washes over me, my palms going cold and clammy. I feel safe with Wraith because I’m getting to know him as a person, but there are so many others here. I don’t know who is good and who is?—

“Hey, Raven. Look at me.”

I didn’t even realize Wraith took my hand. He’s sandwiched it between his own.

“You’re safe here,” he reassures. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“I don’t know. This feels like a lot. Overwhelming for sure.”

Someone knocks on Wraith’s window, and I jump. “Butcher is looking for you,” the person shouts.

Wraith nods. “Let’s get you inside.”

“Would it be okay if I just stayed in the truck?”

He touches the side of my cheek. “I’d feel better knowing you’re inside. Listen, I have my own room here. It’s all mine and has a lock on the door. I don’t have time to introduce you to everyone right now, but you’ll be safe in there. And I’ll get Ember to stop by. She’s the president’s daughter. Okay?”

It helps, the reassurance that I won’t be left to navigate this strange world on my own.

“Okay.”

“Stay there,” he says before jumping out of the truck. He walks around the hood and comes to my side of the vehicle to open the door.

“Nice manners,” Smoke shouts.

“Your mom likes it when I use them on her,” Wraith says.

Smoke grins. “Fuck you.”

Wraith offers me his hand, and while I don’t really need any man’s help getting out of a vehicle, I take it. He doesn’t move much out of the way, and we end up almost toe-to-toe. I have to crane my neck to look up at him.

“Sorry I had to bring you here,” he says.

“We’re on unstable ground, aren’t we?”

He looks down to the gravel lot and nods. “It’s a bit like a hike in the forest without a map. Promises something amazing, but the journey could be treacherous.”

“Wraith,” Butcher yells from the clubhouse door, and we both look over. He doesn’t seem happy to see me. “Get your fucking ass in here.”

I can make this easier for Wraith, who is clearly torn between taking care of me and doing what his president needs. “Look, just take me inside and come find me when you can.”

I see the relief in the drop of his shoulders. “Let me grab your bag.”

When he has it, he takes my hand and leads me to the clubhouse. Inside, there are families dumping bags and supplies on the benches, chairs, and tables.

There are also some women dressed in so little clothing, they must be freezing. T-shirts cropped within an inch of their lives, and booty shorts so short, I can see their ass.

And yet, there seems to be coexistence between everyone.

There’s a bar to the left and the entrance to a large kitchen to the right, where women are putting food into large fridges. “The milk and half and half,” I say, suddenly remembering.

“Hadn’t forgotten. I’ll go back out and get it. Just wanted to get you settled.”

“Settled?” The girl stands in impossibly tall heels that make her legs look a mile long. She towers over me, and I try not to let it intimidate me.

But it does.

“You brought a friend, Wraith?” she asks.

She’s so pretty. A geometric neck tattoo runs down between breasts so perfectly spherical that my breast-feeding-battered boobs would slink away in shame if it were anatomically possible.

And her perfectly lip-glossed mouth is slightly open in shock.

“Be nice, Karlie. This is Raven.”

“I thought only family and club members could stay in lockdown,” she says, eyeing me with a withering look that says I’m not worthy.

“And club girls know better than to question a patched-in member’s judgment. You or any of the girls give Raven grief, I’ll have you bounced from this club faster than you suck Smoke’s dick.”

I have nothing to offer this conversation. This whole world is like a foreign language to me.

There’s a stare down between the two of them for a second, then Karlie capitulates. “Sorry.”

Wraith simply nods and leads me through double doors at the back of the room. The hallway is painted dark green, even the ceiling. Framed pictures of motorcycles and bikers are spaced evenly along the walls, each dramatically illuminated by a brass light.

“I’m this way,” he says, leading me to the left around a sharp corner, all the way to the end. “I called dibs on this room. It’s a bit quieter down here.”

He tugs a key attached to a long chain from his jeans and unlocks the door. “Wasn’t expecting company,” he says when I take in the messy unmade bed and laundry in a pile by the door.

“It’s okay.” It’s not dirty. Just untidy. There isn’t dust on the surfaces, and the room doesn’t smell. In fact, it’s actually a lovely room, with two walls painted cream and two painted a deep midnight blue. There’s a large bed in the middle of the wall to my left. An open doorway reveals a bathroom with a counter that looks like it’s from a solid piece of wood. A white sink with tall taps hovers over it.

But my favorite part is a soft armchair by the window that looks out over the most spectacular view of the mountains and the gentle wind of the river. Even the protective bars can’t detract from it.

Wraith places my bag on the bed, then hurries to the armchair to remove a pair of jeans carelessly thrown over it. “I gotta go. You sure you’re going to be okay in here?”

“I’m fine. Go.”

He nods and walks to the door where he pauses with his hand on the handle. Then he spins on his heel, walks back to me, and cups my cheeks. “Need one more taste before I go, Blue.”

And then he kisses me again. I’m grateful, in this instance, that my body responds before my brain. Because this time, I kiss him back with all that I am.

It’s safe and reassuring. My knees shake as his arms envelop me. Thankfully, he ends the kiss before my brain can kick in to end it first.

He runs his thumb over my mouth. “Love those fucking lips of yours. I’ll send Ember.”

And then he’s gone.

It takes less than five minutes before there is a knock on the door. “Raven, it’s Ember. Wraith sent me.”

I jump from the armchair and hurry to answer the door. The most stunning woman stands on the other side. She’s curvaceous. With long wavy strawberry-blonde hair and a wide smile, she’s almost intimidatingly pretty.

“Hey, Ember. Come in.”

“Thought you might need a drink,” she says, offering me one of the two glasses of wine she’s holding. “I’m so excited Wraith invited you.”

“Oh my gosh, I appreciate that. Thank you. My nerves are a little shot right now.” I take the glass, and I raise it to knock against hers. “Cheers.”

“Cheers, indeed. Hope you like a crisp Sauvignon. I brought it from my bar because Lord knows the clubhouse wouldn’t know good wine if it was drowning in it, and I’m not drinking beer for however long this goes on for.”

“You run a bar?” I take a seat on the bed, sitting cross-legged near the end, and gesture for Ember to take the chair. “And are you with a biker too?”

“I own the bar Whiskey Fever in town. And, no, I’m not with a biker because the biker I was in love with turned me down cold. No one wants to touch the president’s daughter. But, before we discuss my sad story, you and I need to talk about Wraith. Because everyone seems really surprised that you’re here.”

Ember’s breezy honesty is refreshing. Reassuring. I already like her. I take a sip of the wine. It’s crisp, as promised, and perfectly chilled. “To be honest, even I’m surprised I’m here.”

Ember’s laughter puts me at ease. “Then I can’t wait to hear all about it.”