Page 20 of Brage & Dinah

Chapter 8

Dinah pulled onto I-5 and stayed in the right-hand lane. Brage followed three vehicles behind her on his Harley after witnessing her talking to a Moroad Motorcycle member. His first instinct was to go after the man she'd met, but a quick phone call to Roar talked him down from starting a war out in public during the day without backup.

He checked his side mirror, expecting Moroad to ambush him. Dinah was working with them. It was apparent by the hug she'd given the member upon the meeting.

His gut feeling after the baffling phone call Dinah received last night had him following her into downtown. From day one, he'd silently questioned too many things about her. Usually, he wasn't one to shrug off his suspicions in exchange for sex. That mistake could get him killed.

Dinah changed lanes, going around a slower semi. Waiting until another car passed, he whipped out of the lane and stayed behind the vehicle. If she made one move that her plan wasn't to go back to her rental house, he'd make sure she never got a chance to go back to Moroad.

Moroad. Fuck.

Of all the clubs for her to be mixed up in, she picked one full of felons who'd rather use her, then kill her.

She took Exit 303, getting off at Killingsworth. A few more blocks and she'd be turning on the street to go home. He wanted her close enough to the clubhouse before he approached her.

The less struggle, the better, because he couldn't trust himself not to lose his head around her.

At a stoplight, he quickly pulled over and texted Elling. He wanted two men at the gate when he arrived. Whatever happened when he confronted her, he'd need to act fast to keep any trouble away from Slag.

The light changed, and he waited for his opportunity to pass the car in front of him and get behind Dinah. If she noticed him, he'd take care of the problem now. He was close enough; a quick call and he'd have the whole fucking club at his side.

But, if having him behind her vehicle after she'd gone to meet a Moroad member scared her, she wasn't showing any sign of trying to outrun him. In fact, she slowed when she turned down the street to go to her rental house.

His chest tightened in anger, and he parked his motorcycle, blocking her Jeep in the driveway, and reached her door before she could open it.

He motioned for her to roll the window down. She frowned and followed his directions. Her gaze more concerned than upset.

"Is my brake light out again?" She reached for the handle. "Is that why you were following me?"

He wouldn't fall for her bullshit. Tapping her door, he said, "Backup and pull inside the gate and I'll fix it for you at the clubhouse."

"It's okay. I'm not planning on going—"

"Dinah, pull the Jeep into the alley." He kept his hands on the door, not letting her get out. "Back around my Harley and I'll follow you."

"Brage, I don't think—"

He straightened and pointed. "Roar wants to talk with you, too."

She slumped against the seat. "Why didn't you say that first?"

He stepped out of her way. To argue with him after seeing a member of Moroad, of hugging a Moroad, frustrated him. For her to agree to go to the clubhouse once Roar's name was mentioned further angered him.

Going to his motorcycle, he hardened himself for what was to come. He'd put many men through Slag interrogations. He had ways of making men talk. As long as he'd been V.P., they'd never had to use those tactics with a woman.

The thought of putting her through the questioning left a bitter acid taste in his mouth.

Elling opened the gate. Dinah pulled her Jeep into the alley. He followed, motioning Elling to close the exits. Isolating the problem was easier than he'd hoped, within the confines of Slag, Moroad couldn't touch them, or her.

Roar stepped out of the clubhouse followed by Glenn, Aron, Rune. The seriousness of the situation etched on each man's face. He parked his motorcycle, knowing Dinah wasn't running anywhere with the gates closed and the Slag members in attendance.

Using his hand, he brushed the road dust out of his beard and walked toward Dinah's Jeep. She had exited the vehicle by the time he reached the fender.

"The guy at the lube and oil place told me I had a short in the brake light before I moved here." Her mouth moved as she chewed on a piece of gum. "Every time I checked though, it was working."

He wasn't here to talk about her light—which worked fine.

Pressing his hand against her lower back, he guided her toward the clubhouse. "You can go in the clubhouse."

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