Page 15 of Throttle

Pipe’s the guy with greying hair riding past his shoulders, who is shorter than our President by four inches. He's the President of a club we want no affiliation with and the incident at Club Beat is hard to forget. They threatened our women, including Tequila. My stomach still churns with that sinking feeling from her SOS text. That she might be in trouble drove me to crave unthinkable things.

“To what do we owe this not so fucking pleasure, Pipe?” Chain clenches his jaw at Pipe’s comment but does a damn good job at hiding his anger because I’m dying to get a hold of him myself.

“Just enjoying a pleasant morning ride, ain’t that right, boys?” With a devilish grin, he nods toward his club.

“It seems you've parked in front of our only exit, and I promised my ol’ lady an unforgettable experience before breakfast. Out of the way right now.”

Pipe tsks. “I thought we were on good terms, brother.”

“We are, brother. Until you pulled up here acting as though we offended you. And need I remind you, you’re in our territory.”

Pipe moves closer with a laugh, only to be blocked by Hush's bat. Then he smirks. “I'm here to warn you against making any foolish decisions. Take this as a friendly warning. From one club to another. Watch yourselves.” They leave and the open threat makes my stomach turn.

That friendly warning is a joke. It's unsettling that they knew we were here, and I'm not sure how they found out.

“Think they’re involved?” Bullet asks.

“Oh, yeah. They’re involved.” Chain swings his massive leg back on his ride. “Let’s roll. Breakfast and a hot piece of ass are calling my name.”

I give the van and building one last look. Trafficking? They chose the wrong biker club to mess with. We won’t stand for it.

FIVE

Tequila

I hate bars and dance clubs. Why am I a bartender? Well, it’s not the same, I guess. Going to a bar for fun is a completely different experience than working there. One brings in cash, what about the other? The alternative is pure agony. I prefer being at home with my fish.

And that explains why I'm single.

“Stop tugging at your dress. You look hot.” Angel nudges me while signaling for the bartender.

“I'm hoping that by pulling it down, more material will appear. It’s way too sexy. And I think you forgot it wasn’t you who was wearing this tonight,” I yell over the mixed hip hop and pop music thumping.

This outfit would've been perfect for me at nineteen, before I became obsessed with calories. Approaching thirty, I notice my curves becoming more pronounced, particularly my well-shaped butt. I could blame the booty gains on Angel’s exercise program, but then I would deny the credit of my moral support ice cream. I despise being showcased.

“I didn’t forget. You fill out that dress better than I can.” She passes me my drink, which has a yummy strawberry flavor, and takes us to the two unoccupied seats at the bar's end.

“How did Venom allow you to come here tonight?”

“Oh, sweetie. He doesn’t allow me anything. He knows better. Besides, he’s probably already circled the place three times. And I would guess…” Her eyes glisten when she talks about her man. The way those two fell in love remains a mystery to me. But they work. He was meant for her and she for him in some weird, twisted fate. “He’s on his fourth loop. Eventually, he'll gather the courage to park his Harley and sit in the parking lot. When he's done pouting, he'll walk in and stand at the back of the club, watching me like a stalker.”

I'd say she nailed that flawlessly. It’s something he would do.

“Do you hate it?”

“Hate what?”

“Him being so possessive of you.”

Her smile reaches the edge of her glass. “Not even a little. He’s protective and I wouldn’t change it for the world. Besides, I’d be doing the same thing. But pulling a bitch’s extensions out if some snatch laid her dirty finger on him.”

It's admirable to see her cheeks turn a rosy shade when she talks about her ol’ man. Must be such a powerful emotion.

A sense of warmth envelops me as a tall, confident stranger stands beside me. With his well-groomed hair and immaculate appearance, he emanates a triumphant businessman. Traits that have the power of making a woman weak in the knees.

The stranger with the swoon-worthy, smooth and bare jawline nods at us. “Greetings ladies.” His stone-colored eyes bore into mine, causing heat to radiate through my entire body. “Can I buy you two another round?” He's so good-looking, he could be straight out of a movie. Incredible white smile and hair so playful it reminds me a lot of…

Shit.

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