Page 44 of Wild Night (Vicious Reapers MC #2)
ZADIE
“I don’t think we should go. I mean, my dad has already said it’s completely off limits,” I whine.
Sable rolls her eyes at me. She’s sick of me being a goody two-shoes, something that she has voiced more than once. I don’t care, though. I’m a rule follower, I always have been.
My father demands it.
I don’t know if it’s because he’s a single dad, if it’s because he’s the president of a motorcycle club, or if he’s just controlling, although if I had to guess it would be a combination of the three, but following the rules has not been just suggested in my house, it has been demanded—expected.
“You’re twenty-one, you live in your own apartment, pay your own rent, and have a big girl job. What can he do to you?” she says, adding a snort at the end of her question.
Sable’s father is also part of the club, but she’s never had any real rules, and it shows.
With the few guidelines she has, she has made it her mission to break them…
often. And it’s so very clear to me in this moment that she doesn’t understand what my father is truly like.
He can’t do anything to me, but he can make my life very miserable.
“I know, but still…”
My words trail off right before I see a light nearby.
Not just any light, but a lighter’s flame.
That flame is in someone’s hand, and I watch as he lifts it to light a cigarette that is placed between his lips.
I expect it to be one of my many dozen uncles, but when the flame illuminates part of his face, I realize that I have no freaking clue who this man is.
And I’m too far away from the clubhouse for anyone to hear me scream.
“What’re you girls doin’ out here?” the rugged voice asks.
Sable snorts. “We’re club princesses, you better just walk away.”
Sable thinks telling anyone and everyone that we’re princesses is a flex.
The reality is that I’m the actual princess.
My father is the president, I’m his only daughter, but this guy could be from a rival club. Telling him that we’re important to Vicious Reapers could put us in serious danger, and Sable’s throwing it around like she’s a badass biker babe.
Which she is definitely not.
“Is that right?” the man says with a chuckle.
That chuckle makes my belly dip. Sable starts to say something, but he moves a little closer and dips his chin. With my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and him being a tad closer, I can see his face.
My god, he’s gorgeous.
“And who do you belong to, princess?” he asks, his tongue sliding across his bottom lip as if he can’t wait to take a taste of me. The way he’s watching me, plus the way that I feel, as he does, makes me want to ask him to take his fill.
“Does it matter?” I ask in a whisper.
He laughs, taking another step forward. He’s so close to me that I can smell him—sandalwood, leather, and oil.
“Names, Maverick.”
I think about turning away and going home, but I can’t look away from him. Sable slips away behind me, and I can hear her footsteps as she makes her way to the clubhouse. She’s probably going to slip in the back door and go to Brake.
She doesn’t know that I’m aware of their thing together. He’s the same age as our dads, but I’m not here to judge or ask questions. I’ve got my own issues, and he’s staring right back at me.
“I’m Zadie,” I whisper.