Page 2 of Hellfire's Mercy

"Well, Miss Matthews," he says, blowing smoke in my direction. "Looks like you and I need to have a long chat about the consequences of poking your nose where it doesn't belong."

Several bikers chuckle darkly at his words, and I feel my knees weaken slightly. Hellfire must notice because his hand shoots out, gripping my elbow – not roughly like the younger biker did, but firmly enough to steady me.

"Everyone out," he commands, "Except Butcher and my daughter. Keep watch."

The bar clears quickly, leaving only one of the oldest bikers and the woman who searched me. This is new. I had no idea he had a daughter.

Hellfire guides me – though 'guides' might be too gentle a word for his grip – toward a door marked 'Private' at the back of the bar.

"I won't publish anything," I blurt out, trying to salvage what I can of this situation. "I'll delete everything-"

"Bit late for that, don't you think?" He pushes open the door, revealing what looks like an office. "After what you heard tonight?"

My stomach drops. They will never let me leave.

The office is surprisingly clean and organized. A large wooden desk dominates the space. Leather-bound ledgers line the shelves, and a state-of-the-art computer setup sits in one corner.

This isn't just a biker bar – this is their headquarters.

Hellfire releases my arm and motions to a chair in front of the desk. "Sit."

I consider refusing, but one look at his face tells me that's not a wise choice. I sit, trying to keep my back straight and my chin up. Even though my heart is threatening to burst out of my chest, I won't let him see how terrified I am.

He moves behind the desk but doesn't sit. Instead, he leans forward, placing both hands on the wooden surface, his numerous rings catching the light.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't make you disappear right now."

"Because murder would look terrible on your record?" I say before I can stop myself.

Oh God, why can't I keep my mouth shut when I'm nervous?

To my surprise, the corner of his mouth twitches.

"Cute. But not good enough." He straightens up, walking around the desk until he's standing right next to my chair. "You know what happens to people who cross the Iron & Blood MC?"

I swallow hard, very aware of his proximity. "I imagine they don't write about it in the local paper."

This time he actually chuckles, a deep, rough sound that has my stiff legs trembling.

"You've got balls, sweetheart, I'll give you that." He leans down, bringing his face close to mine. "But you've also got terrible timing. We're about to go to war, and I can't have a nosy little journalist causing problems."

His warm breath fans across my face, smelling of whiskey and smoke, and I find myself unable to look away from his intense gaze. This close, I can see that his eyes aren't just brown –they're amber, with flecks of gold that seem to burn with an inner fire.

"So, what are you going to do with me?" I whisper, hating how breathy my voice sounds.

He studies my face and body for a brief moment, and I see something shift in his expression.

"That," he says slowly, "is an excellent question."

Chapter 2 – Hellfire

I shouldn't find her attractive. She's trouble wrapped in curves that her conservative outfit does nothing to hide, and I've got enough problems without adding a journalist to the mix.

But there's something about the way she holds my gaze, fear mixing with defiance in those big green eyes, that gets under my skin.

"Dad," Angel says from her position by the door. My daughter's always been the voice of reason in the club. "The Outlaws could be watching the bar. We need to decide what to do with her quickly."

She's right, of course. Every minute this girl – Chloe – stays here is a risk. Not just because of what she heard but because the Outlaws might have already marked this place for retaliation. Having a civilian here could complicate things.