Page 34 of Property of the Hellfire Riders

“How about an official grand tour?” he asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

“That’d be great!” A tour is good. It’ll let me see if there’s any off-limits areas, anything suspicious or out of place where one of these men might have their secrets buried.

“Right, this way then.” He waves his hand nonchalantly. “You’ve already been acquainted with the bar and the domain upstairs.” His shoulders open a door to the left. “Let’s head this way then.”

We step into a narrow hallway with doors on either side. Tank starts pointing, and I try my best to keep up and take mental notes.

“This is the rec area, though there is the gym, weight room, garage out back, and this…this is my favorite spot.”

None of them are terribly exciting or interesting. In the rec room, a tall redhead in red booty shorts was straddling some muscular jock who had to be at least 15 years her senior. They paid neither of us any mind when we stuck our heads in.

“That’s Mace and his girl Viv,” he says, moving me along.

My eye catches a locked metal door with a clear evident lock on it.

“Where does that go?” I ask.

“The basement. It’s pretty nasty down there. Follow me.”

I study the basement door for a moment longer, wondering if it would be possible to find another route down there. I’m not an expert lock pick, but I’m sure there has to be a key somewhere.

I don’t linger too long, trying my best to keep pace with Tank as he steps into an open doorway leading directly into a massive industrial kitchen.

“This is where the real magic happens.”

“You like to cook?” I ask with one eyebrow raised.

“Nah, I mean - I can whip up a mean peanut butter and jelly.”

“Don’t ask him to fucking cook you anything.” Vance is leaning back at the dining table with the boots propped up. “Unless you want to be sick.”

“Dude. I’m not that bad.”

A toothpick rolls between his lips, back and forth.

“I like a good peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” I say with a soft smile.

“Then Tank can be in charge of feeding you,” Vance says. His leather vest is tossed on the back of the chair, and he’s got on a black tank top, showing off the lines of snaking tattoos. His head cocks to the side as his silver eyes fall onto me. With the sunlight coming through the window, I notice the deep scar running across his forearm. The thick pink line follows his bicep.

“I’m glad you turned back up,” he says. “I was worried something might have happened.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice. Tank found me.”

“Yeah, he’s really good at finding people we want.” Vance grins. “So, how does our humble clubhouse compare to your ex’s?”

“It’s bigger,” I say. I know that for a fact based on the photos I’ve seen at work.

“God, I love hearing that,” Tank chuckles.

Vance stands up then and walks over to me.

With Tank looming behind me and Vance in front, I find myself sandwiched between the two of them. Both of them smell like the forest mixed with sweet smoke. Both of them are dangerous, watching me like prey.

“I’m glad you’re here.” His eyes never leave mine. “Do you want anything?”

I swallow down the lump in my throat. “I’m fine, thanks.”

He holds out his hand.

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