Miles gave him a strange look. “You’re a bold fucker, Abram.”
Abram’s smile unnerved me. It just didn’t look natural. “I have nothing to fear, do I, Miles?”
Miles didn’t answer, but he stepped back again, looking like he was ready to go.
Now Abram’s gaze connected with mine. “Nice meeting you, Dandy. I’ll see you another time.”
Not if I could help it.
I nodded stiffly, forcing out a pleasant, “Good night.”
They disappeared a few moments later, and just like that, my body broke out in shakes, feeling like I was going to vomit. Because, yeah, now I had to feel the crushing weight of panic. Leave it to me to suffer this shitafterthe actual fucked up incident.
It felt like ages to calm myself down, when it was merely moments. My pulse thumped so hard in my ears; I didn’t hear Miles return until he suddenly appeared from across the bar. I jumped again, my heart bursting at his sudden presence. I clenched my teeth to stop them from chattering, wondering how long he’d been standing there, watching me shake.
My face was hot, my eyes heavy with unshed tears. Trembling, I settled my hands on the bar, weakly wiping it down with my rag like I was carrying on with work. Miles stopped where Abram had been, but the difference was I wasn’t looking at him. I could feel his hard gaze on my face, though.
“You always act so calm?” he asked, his voice low and curious.
I continued to wipe the same spot on the bar, like what happened was totally a casual thing. “As opposed to what?” I returned quietly.
“You have no idea the power you were in the presence of,” he said.
“Oh, I know,” I retorted.
Ifeltit.
That Russian man was a god in his world. I’d never felt someone’s presence loaded with that much amount of energy before. It felt tangible, like I could touch that man and come away with power of my own.
When Miles didn’t answer, I paused to look up at him, wondering what he wanted now. His eyes were still on me as he raised his hand and took the gun off the bar. I didn’t feel panicked that this man that loathed me was now holding a gun, because according to Abram, it didn’t work.
But what if it did?
He seemed to understand what I was thinking because his lips spread into a cold smirk. I stared at that smile, disturbed by this man the most. As the Road Captain, he was one of the most sought-after members in the club, and everyone loved him—he was the life of the party a lot of the time. I’d seen him laid back, knocking down a beer as the ladies vied for his attention because he was tall, muscled and gorgeous in a scary sort of way. Yet he hated me. Never allowed me to take his orders. Never spoke a word to me unless he absolutely needed to. While the others in the club had challenged me until I broke and then welcomed me in, Miles had not been faking his hatred of me.
“What?” I pushed out feeling irritated now because he wasn’t talking, wasn’t doing anything except staring at me in that cruel way.
His gaze hardened once more as he let out slowly, “I’m still trying to figure that out. Thewhat.” Before I could even absorb his words, he began to walk slowly, rounding the bar. Unease slithered over me as he approached my side, his dominating frame completely dwarfing me.
Everything about Miles screamed biker. He was the definition of one: harsh, bearded, hair long and loose, donning black leather, boots scuffing the floor with each step. He was tatted absolutely everywhere. I glanced at the colour crawling up his neck, wondering for a fleeting moment if there was any inch of bare flesh left. But I didn’t think I’d ever know because he hardly ever took his cut off, and when he did, he was in his big sweaters. But you could see, regardless of what he wore, the sheer strength of him.
I felt his dirty leather brush against my side as he grabbed a shot glass and then a whiskey bottle I had yet to put away. He took his time pouring it in, saying nothing to me, though he’d glance at me occasionally with that cruel look in his eye, and it was made all the more fucked up because of all the blood on his face. I didn’t flinch from his touch, but I clenched my fist tightly as he overwhelmed the small space I was in with his scent and heat. I stared back at him, schooling my expression.
He threw his head back, gulping down the shot before slamming it down hard on the counter. With a gruff voice, he grumbled, “Sav’s got few weaknesses. He’s terrifying when he wants to be, and that fear is going to fuck the masses up when word spreads what he’s capable of.” He cleared his throat, looking down at me with nostrils flaring. “He’s indestructible, except when it comes toyou.” Grinding his teeth, he dropped his head, until his face was mere inches from mine. His eyes peered into me, searching, that cruelty twisting to pure disdain. “He’s in line because of you. You hold an extraordinary power over him. If you ever fuck with him, girl, you’re going to unleash something none of us in this club can contain.” He slid the glass across the counter, discarding it, adding in a pointed tone, “Don’t fuck it up. We won’t treat you kindly—Iwon’t be kind. You don’t want to see me in that way, Skye, darling. I am fucking cruel when I want to be, and like Hunter, I am unstoppable.”
More quiet threats.
Only ever said when nobody else was present.
“You’re a dick,” I snarled, adrenaline shooting through me now. “And you hide behind your easy-going smiles and your charming façade, but I know it’s all fake, Miles. You don’t need to warn me about what you are—unlike everyone else, I can fucking see it just fine.”
I expected his face to darken, for him to say something horrible. Instead, his expression lightened, and he smiled. He smiled so wide, it disarmed me for a moment how different he looked.
“Good,” he murmured more to himself. “I’m glad we can be honest with one another, princess.”
Rounding the bar, he began to trod away, throwing back, “I wouldn’t wait up for Sav. He might be…poor company tonight.”
*