He killed the engine and dismounted, the rest of the group following suit behind him. “Fan out and check the perimeter. Look for any signs they’ve been here.”
His men fanned out without question, disappearing into the darkness to scout the area. Jaxon approached the garage entrance, one hand resting on the gun at his hip as he peered through the window into the dimly lit interior.
“All clear,” Ranger called, emerging from the shadows. The others echoed his confirmation, gathering once more in the pool of light spilling from the streetlamp overhead.
Jaxon nodded, a muscle in his jaw twitching. It seemed they hadn’t made it this far into Green Devil’s territory yet—but that was only a matter of time. He knew the Wolverines and their bloodthirsty leader, Dom, wouldn’t stop until they’d left a trail of destruction in their wake.
“We need to shore up security at the clubhouse and here.” He looked to each of his lieutenants in turn. “I want round-the-clock patrols and eyes on the road leading out of town. If they so much as poke their heads into our territory, I want to know about it.”
“You got it, brother,” Ranger said. The others voiced their agreement and Jaxon felt a flash of pride in his men. They might be outgunned, but they weren’t outmatched—not when they had this level of loyalty and dedication.
The Wolverines had started a war, but the Green Devils would damn well finish it.
10
The rusty diner bell jangled as Rachel stepped through the weathered door into of Joe’s Roadside Cafe. Though it was barely noon, it was nearly empty, only a few truckers hunched over steaming cups of coffee at the counter.
Rachel walked to a booth in the back, sliding onto the cracked red vinyl seat. Her stomach churned with nerves and she rubbed her clammy palms on her skirt. What was she doing here?
A waitress in a stained apron ambled over, eyebrow cocked. “What’ll ya have, hon?”
Rachel’s mouth felt dry as sand. “Just coffee. Black.”
The waitress grunted and shuffled off. Rachel glanced around the diner again, her heart pounding. The bell jangled again, and a woman strode in, scanning the room. Her eyes landed on Rachel and she walked over, sliding into the seat across from her. Officer Sarah Mitchell was tall and athletic, her brown hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. Rachel’s stomach twisted into knots at the sight of her police badge and service weapon clipped to her belt.
“You must be Rachel,” Officer Mitchell said, her voice brisk and businesslike. Rachel nodded.
“Thanks for meeting with me. I have some questions about the Wolverines and the Green Devils. I understand this may be difficult for you, but any information you can provide would be helpful in my investigation.”
Rachel’s fingers tightened around her coffee cup. She didn’t want to get tangled up in this and end up in jail, but could she really refuse to help a police officer? She swallowed hard, staring into the depths of the bitter black coffee. What was she going to do?
Rachel looked up from her coffee cup and met Officer Mitchell’s steady gaze. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Before she could figure out a response, the bell on the diner door jangled again. Rachel glanced over and her heart froze in her chest.
Dominic “Dom” Ramirez swaggered through the entrance, his predatory eyes scanning the room. He was of average height, but powerfully built, with a beard and slicked-back hair. Dark tattoos peeked out from under the collar of his leather cut. The President patch on his cut left no doubt about who he was. Rachel’s pulse raced as Dom’s gaze settled on their table. A cruel smirk curled his lips as he strode over to them.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” His voice was mocking. Rachel shrank back in her seat, panic flooding her senses.
Officer Mitchell’s hand dropped to rest on the handle of her gun, her eyes wary. “Mr. Ramirez, I suggest you leave us in peace.”
Dom ignored her, focusing his attention on Rachel. “Been a long time, sweetheart. Did you miss me?”
It was obvious he knew about my relationship with Jaxon and that made me vulnerable. Rachel’s stomach churned and her breath came in short, sharp bursts.
She gripped the edge of the table, struggling to stay afloat. How had her carefully constructed new life collapsed so quickly? All she wanted was to escape this world that threatened to engulf her once more.
Rachel swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet Dom’s gaze. “Leave me alone.”
Dom leaned in closer, bracing his hands on the table. His cologne invaded her senses, the familiar scent churning in her stomach. “You’re not getting away from me that easily this time.”
Jaxon was never far away from Rachel, and this time she was glad.
Jaxon walked into the diner and walked straight up to Dom. “She asked you to leave.” His voice was deceptively calm, but Rachel could see the tension in his shoulders and the steely glint in his eyes.
Dom didn’t back down, sizing up Jaxon. The air seemed to vibrate with the animosity between them. A part of Rachel was screaming at her to run, to escape this world of violent men and the codes they lived by. But she was frozen in place, trapped by the threads of her past and the inescapable present.
The rules of the biker world were clear: loyalty to your club above all else. Dom would never stop coming after the Green Devils, and now she was tangled up in this web, causing Jaxon to step in and defend her. The conflict between the clubs would only escalate, fueled by a history of bad blood and a thirst for power.