Page 3 of The MC's Little Brother

Wraith lived up to his road name. His jet-black hair was long enough to fall into his eyes, and always managed to look silky soft and perfect, even after hours wearing a helmet. He was tall, not overly bulky. He had lean muscle, built enough that people would think twice before fighting him, but not as big as someone like Butch, who was wide like a Mack truck and had fists the size of his baby daughter’s head. I only ever saw Wraith wearing black. Black jeans, black boots, and a plain black t-shirt under his club leather jacket. It was like he didn’t want to draw attention to himself, never wearing anything special that would single him out. It never worked as he hoped. He was too pretty to blend in. Ocean blue eyes, straight nose, strong jaw covered in a light amount of stubble. He could be a model if he wanted to. He was also my brother’s best friend and so off limits, it wasn’t even funny. I had a crush on him for years when I was younger, but I moved on eventually. Now he was just really annoying and always there.

“Here we go,” I murmured under my breath. Obviously not quiet enough, because his gaze flicked to mine for a second before returning to the idiot behind me.

“Mind your own business,” the man behind me snarled, drawing my attention back to him. I scowled.

“Follow your own advice, douchebag. If you’d kept your hands to yourself, we could’ve all gotten on with our day.”

This guy had nothing on Wraith. Scraggly beard, thick gut, ill-fitting shirt cut in that stupid way that showed off more man boob than any of us wanted to see. The bandana on his head did little to hide the fact that he was bald, and I doubted it was a choice. He screamed middle-aged balding man to me.

Now that someone else was involved, the douchebag's friends were no longer laughing. They stood and glared threateningly at me and Wraith. It looked like my ball-kicking abilities were going to be put to the test today. Wyatt was going tohave a hairy fit.

A warm hand encircled my arm, drawing me carefully away and behind Wraith. I bit back a sigh. Looks like I’d get a front-row seat to that fit. Wyatt had arrived, along with several of his crew. They stood behind him, all wearing their matching leather vests or jackets and scowls on their faces. Wyatt stood beside me and he tipped his head towards the back of the group, silently telling me to leave. Yeah, not gonna happen. Just because I was a woman didn’t make me weak.

Douchebag and his friends were clearly outnumbered and out-manned. None of them came close to the size of the guys behind me. It’d be a quick fight if it ended up going that way.

The one who caused this whole thing glared at the group behind me. “She one of yours?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Wyatt replied, his voice stern and biting. “Touching someone without their consent is assault. Not only is that illegal, it’s against the rules here. This is a safe place. If you can’t respect that, you need to leave.”

The douchebag didn't like that, his fists clenching tightly at his sides as he bared his teeth.

“I don’t answer to you, asshole. Who the fuck–”

“Viper. Shut the fuck up,” a gravelly voice barked. The newcomer stepped out of the restaurant, a few more guys at his back, but he looked bored with the situation, not like he was going to join the fun. “He’s the president of the Dirty Devils. He outranks you.”

He said that, but the way he said it rankled me. It sounded condescending, like Wyatt’s title didn’t mean much. President of a motorcycle club was a big deal, but not to this guy, who had his own president patch on his vest and a smug look on his face.

“Don’t worry,Prez. Viper here was just about to apologize.”

Viper looked none too pleased about that, but his president’s dark look left no room for argument. He muttered an apology, a deep scowl on his face, and the president turned back to Wyatt with that condescending smile.

“Better? We wouldn’t want you ruining your pristine reputation.”

“Don’t start, Battle.”

Battle sneered, lifting his shoulders like he didn't give a shit what Prez said. “Not everyone is man enough to follow the old ways. There’s no shame in that.”

I knew what old ways he was referring to. I could see the proof of it on the patch on his crew’s back. One percent. They were an outlaw crew. Usually, they had a hand in the drug or sex trade, and they were violent without provocation. I chose not to say anything to come to my brother’s defense. Now was not a good time to be mouthing off. You never know what can set these guys off.

“Well. Now that apologies have been made, maybe you can join me inside for a drink. We’re all brothers, ‌aren’t we?”

Wyatt dipped his chin once in acknowledgment. “I need to speak with my crew. We’ll join you in a minute.”

Battle looked smug, heading back inside without a backward glance. He did bark out a command for Viper to follow him, which was obeyed immediately, if not a little reluctantly. Viper shot me one last scathing look before following his crew inside.

Once they were out of sight, the crew let out slow breaths, shedding the tension a little. When I noticed Butch standing next to Wyatt, I frowned and looked around. “Who’s watching the brood?”

“Rooster,” the massive giant replied with a growl. “You’re not goin’ in there alone.” That comment was meant for Wyatt, who put up a hand to settle his crew.

“Wasn’t planning on it. I want more than just Rooster with them, though.” He turned finally to look at me, and the sharpness in his eyes softened a little. “Are you alright?”

I made a face. “I’m fine. He’s not the first asshole to get handsy at one of these. You know how they are.”

I didn’t want Wyatt getting overprotective on me. He was always quick to react, and I didn’t want him hovering for the entire event. Events like these were sometimes the only events where I could actually meet someone. There weren’t a lot of eligible bachelors in our town, and I wasn’t interested in being single forever. A date now and then would be nice.

Wraith turned and studied me for a moment, scanning my face like he was waiting for me to start crying over something so small. I narrowed my eyes at him, telling him with my face not to do what I could see he wanted to do.

His gaze flicked over my shoulder, and he jerked his chin atsomeone. “Axel, you busy?”

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