Page 49 of Haze's Jewel

If I’m being honest, I’m not only head over heels in love with him, I’m also in awe of him. I gaze up at Haze, as his brother, Vapor, and his brother-in-law, Tracker come up on either side of us. This feels like where I belong, with Haze and his family. Regardless of the fact that they are bikers, they’re good men.

Suddenly something cold and clammy touches my leg. I jump back when a bloody hand tries to grab my ankle. “What the hell,” I gasp.

We look down to see that Greg has somehow crawled a few feet closer. Vapor moves forward at the same time that Haze pulls me back. Greg gets a boot to his face and Vapor growls, “Do not touch my brother’s old lady, you stupid fucker.”

“I just want to talk to her,” Greg says tiredly. My stepbrother looks like he got mangled by a meat grinder. His face is bruised, scratched, and bloody. It might not be very compassionate of me, but all I can think of is ‘good’. After he and Trevor tried to have me killed, any shred of affection I might have had remaining had gone.

I squat down several feet out of his reach, “I don’t understand why you did this. Our father left you all his money. It must have been millions. Couldn’t you be satisfied with that?”

“You don’t understand,” he gasps.

Before he can go on, a van pulls up and a man I recognize as their club medic jumps out. “Is everyone okay? Where’s the woman we rescued? Let me have a look at her.”

I come to my feet and tell him, “I’m fine. I don’t have a scratch on me.”

Greg waves from the ground, “Over here. I’m hurt.”

The medic ignores him and looks around, checking that all the brothers are okay.

Siege comes closer and stares down at Greg. That’s when I notice that Siege’s knuckles are all torn up. The look on their club president’s face is pure disdain. My heart unthaws a little for this gruff biker who’s made it his life’s work to fight for justice on behalf of people like me who can’t always stand up to the men trying to wreck our lives. “Frisk him, Haze. Then I want Vapor to drive the van back to the clubhouse while you and Anna try to figure out what’s going on. Rage, see that he doesn’t die on route. I want to have a word with him myself when I get back.”

Rage, the club medic, states, “Whatever you say, boss.”

Haze quips, “Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this, or Greg will die trying.”

Siege snorts a laugh that makes me think this is biker humor. I get it, after something like this, you need to decompress. However, the next moment Siege is glaring at Haze. “I’m serious this time, do not let that fucker die before I can talk to him personally.”

Haze sighs, “Fine, we’ll do it your way.” When Siege doesn’t stop staring at him, Haze throws, “sir” onto the end of his sentence.

I squeeze his arm, in a silent bid for him to shut the hell up while he’s ahead. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll make sure my stepbrother lives long enough to tell all his secrets.”

Siege’s expression turns warmer when he looks at me. “You’re a good woman, Anna. Haze did well by choosing you to be his old lady. Cleo and Trix think the world of you.”

I can’t keep the smile off my face for anything.

But Siege turns to Rigs, “How about you and I see what this hired killer has in his cabin and then see what we can do about disposing of his body? At least he made the cleanup easy for us by getting himself shot in his tent.”

“I’m always up for burying the dead and stealing their toys,” Rigs says looking all kinds of serious.

When Siege chuckles, I realize this is another biker joke.

I look around, Vapor and Tracker are already carrying my stepbrother over to the back of the van. When Haze and I make our way to the back door, I see they have it set up like a little ambulance with a gurney and all. Once Vapor and Tracker climb back out and move around to get into the front of the van, Rage hauls himself up into the back and begins strapping Greg down so he doesn’t go sliding off the gurney when the van moves. I can hear him muttering angrily under his breath.

“I hate having fucking enemies in my van, bleeding all over the place and making a mess. This one is a fucking waste of skin. He doesn’t deserve to live. Putting money over his own sister. He should fucking be ashamed but I’m fucking sure he’s not, cause he’s a total douchebag motherfucker if ever there was one.”

I joke, “Your club name is Rage because you’re angry all the time, right?”

He glares at me. “Not all the fucking time, no.”

Suddenly, Haze is in the van and slams the back door and we start to drive off. “Yeah, that’s exactly where his club name came from. I’ve never heard the fucker say one nice thing. It’s just complaints, complaints, and more complaints.”

He starts giving Greg the once over. “You would say that, because life’s a fucking breeze for you. All I’ve ever seen you do is laugh, joke, and fuck club girls.”

“Cranky bastard,” Haze mutters.

I look from one to the other. “Wait. What’s going on here? Are you two really arguing? I can’t tell.”

Haze shoots me a lopsided grin and gave a little shake of his head to let me know they aren’t being serious. I sit back on the bench and wrap both hands around the bar running along the inside of the van. My mind was officially blown about most of what I had witnessed since Haze’s club brothers arrived.

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