PROLOGUE
ADDIE
I cheeredas Lila blew out the candles on her cake, and a room full of bikers and her closest friends sang “Happy Birthday.” Lila beamed. My sweet, little librarian bestie somehow fit right into this badass biker world, and it still shocked the hell out of me. But her husband Grifter, or Riff, as he was more often called, had made sure she fit in. In his eyes, she came first, always.
Ly had arrived straight from the library and was still in her work clothes, her usual pencil skirt, button-up blouse, and heels, but as soon as she’d walked through the door, Riff had slipped the leather vest with his property patch on it over his wife’s shoulders.
Property of Grifterwas now emblazoned across her back for all to see.
Something else I’d had trouble getting my head around at first, until she’d educated us all about what it meant. A property patch was a sign of respect, not ownership, and the equivalent of a wedding ring in the biker world, though Lila had one of those as well. It was Riff telling his brothers, his club, any club, that Lila was protected. And if anyone tried to harm her, that person wouldn’t just answer to Riff, he’d answer to every single member of the Ramblers.
My stomach gripped tight. The idea of that kind of commitment made me want to run for the hills and not stop.
Once congratulations were over, the music returned to full volume, and I was more than ready to hit the dance floor again, to lose myself to the music.
“Come on, beautiful, you know you want to,” the guy beside me said, moving so he was standing in front of me, picking up right where he’d left off before the cake came out. He’d been trying to get close to me while I’d danced with my girls and had been using his shitty lines on me most of the night. He was young, a new recruit for the Ramblers MC, and cocky as hell.
“Let me take you for a ride on my bike.”
“I’m good, thanks,” I said again.
I started toward Eves and Trix, who were already dancing again, but he grabbed my hand, stopping me, and winked. “Come on, I promise you’ll like it.”
“Nope.” I tried to pull my hand free, but he wasn’t letting go.
“Nope,” he said in a high voice, imitating me, I assumed, then laughed and tried to get me moving in the opposite direction by pulling on my hand again. “Come on, babe, let’s get out of here.”
“I said, no.” I yanked on his hold harder.
A massive shadow eclipsed us a moment before a meaty fist gripped the back of the younger guy’s shirt and he was hauled backward.
The kid looked up and all color drained from his face.
“The fuck you think you’re doing, boy?” Manic growled like a fucked-off grizzly.
“I was just…I thought…”
“You don’t get to think, that’s not your job. You watch the fucking bikes and keep your mouth shut. You don’t come inside and you sure as fuck don’t put your hands on any of the women here. You think they want your scrawny ass anywhere near them? And if you haven’t learned what no means yet, you got no place in this club.” Manic shoved him away. “Get the fuck outside. I’ll deal with you in the morning.”
The new recruit got the hell out of there, and Manic watched him leave, his expression like thunder, that bearded jaw tight as hell.
I stared at him in shock. “Thanks, but you didn’t need to do that. I could handle it.”
His brown eyes sliced to me. “We don’t force ourselves on women. That little fuck needs to learn and he will.” His gaze flicked down, taking me in from head to toe. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I fought not to blush. I never blushed. I was an extrovert through and through. At least that was the side I showed most. But this guy, the way this hulking, tattooed biker looked at me, I blushed every damn time, and the big bastard loved it. Maybe it was because he was eleven years older than me? Manic was thirty-six. He’d been there and done that and was utterly comfortable in his own skin. He knew who he was, what he wanted, and that kind of confidence—well, it seriously did something to me.
His gaze didn’t shift, and the silence stretched taut between us as he justlookedat me.
Goose bumps prickled my arms, and my belly did this curl and tighten thing it did a lot when Manic looked at me. “Are you enjoying yourself?” I asked, breaking the stare-a-thon because he’d win. He always won.
“Oh yeah.” His eyes caught mine again. “Been watching this wild, sexy-as-fuck girl dance all night.”
Heat curled through me. “You have, huh?”
“Always enjoy the show, cupcake.”
My pulse raced. He had been watching me, and I’d played up to it. I always did, and tonight he’d obviously decided to call me out on it. “Good to know.”