I peeled my face from his leathers, staring up at the distinctive patch of a long red dragon with great, curled goat horns, coiled through flames.
The emblem was immediately recognizable.
It belonged to the Devil’s Dragons MC.
“Lost, little missy?” An ancient, dusty voice growled. I stared up into the thick, scraggly beard of the biker, and into the curious but stern eyes gazing down upon me.
“I… I’m looking for Hunter…” I murmured.
“Hunter, looks like yer girl’s here,” he groaned loudly, turning to face the rest of the room.
As he stepped aside, I realized that I’d happened upon a conference room. Old and splattered with the merriment of a beer glass too many, a thick wooden table filled the room. There had to be fifteen or twenty bikers were seated around it. More dangerous looking men were standing behind them in a row that wrapped the room, barely crowding into the private chamber.
Close to forty pairs of eyes directed their undivided attention to me. My breath caught in my throat as I spotted that same emblem on about half the men in the room… There was another club here… One that I didn’t recognize.
And I was staring right at their leader.
The man seated at the very center of the table was hardened and vicious-looking. His bushy black whiskers barely masked a distinctive lip twitch, and my eyes cast quickly downward onto the mystery emblem on his chest. Even from this distance I could read the word emblazoned beneath.
President.
The rest of the room focused between the two of us as he rose from his seat.
“Who the fuck is this?”
“That’s Hunter’s girl,” one of the other bikers laughed. “Apparently, she’s come to say hello.”
“Hunter, you say?” He turned his head further down the table and laughed. “Your new boy, Eduardo? What a surprise! I guess his pretty little bitch is loyal, eh?”
I followed his gaze.
Hunter was seated among his kind, his stoic face gazing towards me. Surrounded by bikers, he definitely looked like he fit in: he was just as big as anyone else around that table, with powerful arms and fresh tattoos visible from beneath his new set of club leathers.
With careful, thoughtful eyes, he offered me a definitively wry stare. He was clearly not happy to see me. I felt my spirits collapse somewhere in my chest.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Hunter told me loudly, addressing the rest of the club as much as myself. It was apparent that he was trying to distance himself from the interruption in front of the other bikers.
I felt a lithe hand on my shoulder, and turned slightly. The hostess had chosen this moment to peek into the room. “I’m so sorry, gentlemen, I’ll escort our guest to the front while you continue…”
“No need,” the mystery biker leader spoke, leaning forwards to flatten his palms across the table. “You’re very lucky that we’re done here, little girl…”
With that, he lifted a nearby gavel, giving a quick slam to the table.
“Boys, go get your dicks wet, yeah? Plenty of pussy in the building, after all…”
He turned to another older biker, seated at the table with them. I instantly recognized the President of the Devil’s Dragons, Eduardo. Practically my father’s nemesis, his lips curled into a grin as he turned to face me.
I counted myself lucky that Eduardo thought himself well above the local law enforcement. If he’d had any idea who I really was, I’d be in the shit right about now…
“Agreed,” he growled. “Dragons, dismissed.”
Regardless of emblem, the bikers hooted and hollered before moving out the room in cacophony. The hostess gave me one last little sour look before disappearing off with the pack, and the Presidents paused to glance at me for a moment.
Eduardo glanced down at me as he passed by, and then turned to Hunter. “Keep your little bitch out of here, boy.”
With that, he was gone.
The other club president, the one with the mystery patch, stifled a chuckle as he passed by as well. “Nice legs on this one, boy. Better for wrapping around your head, eh?”
With a surprised and indignant expression, I turned to face Hunter. He shifted in his seat, his stoic expression quickly replaced with veiled venom.
“No need to bristle, boy,” the President laughed. “I’m telling you, though… I can see trouble a mile away. This girl here? She’s trouble. Don’t let her interrupt us again, you understand?”
“Crystal clear,” Hunter growled.
I squared my jaw as the President gazed in my eyes for a moment, a slick smile crossing his lips.
Before I could muster up the courage to say anything, he was out the door, whistling his way towards the front of the strip club – eager to whet his appetite with whichever girl valued his wallet enough to meet his needs.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Hunter repeated furiously, rising from his chair and crossing the room. He snatched me by the wrist and dragged me nearby to a small champagne room.
“You can’t just rush into a club meeting like that! This shit is serious! Do you have any idea what these guys do to girls like you?”
The anger was palpable on his tongue, and I shrunk inside. I’d been stupid and selfish, impulsive, and he had every right to be angry…
What was I thinking?
Hunter could see that his words had sunk in, and he pulled me into a deep embrace. “I’m sorry, Sarah… I’m happy to see you here. Thanks for coming, Princess”
I nodded softly against his chest. The familiar, subtle scent of his natural body musk, mixed with the worn leather, filled my lungs. I loved the smell of him, but this new layer – the biker leathers – invaded the happy memories.
It was a sign of how things had changed.
“You joined the club,” I noted sadly, pressing my face deeper into his chest.
“You know I had to,” Hunter replied softly, his fingers stroking my hair. “I gave them my word, and I abide by that.”
“There could have been another way – something else you could have done,” I started rambling. “There must have been something, anything–”
“It was my choice,” he reiterated firmly.
“I… but why?”
“My sister,” he said. “The Devil’s Dragons found her, just
like they promised. They saved her before she disappeared into the sex trafficking circles down south. She’d be some rich asshole’s plaything if it wasn’t for the Dragons. I have to pay my dues…”
“There’s got to be another way,” I pleaded. “My dad has some money… I could steal his checkbook.”
Hunter lifted my chin with a finger. “You’re not going to do anything sweetheart… It’s not as bad as you think Sarah. Sure, they do some rough stuff, but you know that I can handle myself. They wouldn’t have accepted me if they didn’t believe I could.”
“I believe you,” I responded quietly… But that was a lie.
The Devil’s Dragons had a reputation:
Living fast.
Riding hard.
Leaving plenty of crime in their wake.
It was a wonder how the police hadn’t torn the club apart. Maybe they were just too powerful, or maybe they were just goddamned lucky. My father had always had a bone to pick with the Dragons, and as Sheriff of these parts, it was only a matter of time before he had the enough evidence stacked up to put an end to their freedom.
I didn’t want Hunter caught in the crosshairs when that trigger was finally pulled.
“Listen, Sarah,” Hunter began, his chest heavy with a deep sigh. “You know we can’t keep this up forever.”
Wait, what?
“Hunter…” I tentatively began.
“No, you need to listen to me,” he replied, facing me down sadly but firmly. “This life – I don’t want you dragged into it. The last thing you need is to get swept up into this world. I chose this, but you don’t have to… you’ve got a bright future ahead of you. I can’t let you throw that away.”
“Hunter, that’s my choice,” I insisted.
“You say that now… but you’ll regret it.”
I shook my head defiantly.
“No, Sarah, I know you,” he continued. “I’ve known you for years. If you follow me down this road, you’re not going to like where it goes. Maybe not for a few months, or a few years… but eventually, you’re going to see where you went wrong, and you’re going to blame it on this decision. I’m just saving you the pain.”