Page 17 of Property of Spike

She bites her lip, glancing down at Asher. “I guess I just didn’t think anyone would actually want to help. I didn’t think anyone could.”

“Listen,” I say, kneeling in front of her, “Chuck’s a problem. We get that. But problems have solutions. And if he’s stupid enough to come for you here, he’ll find out real quick why we’re feared.”

A flicker of hope crosses her face, but it’s quickly replaced by doubt. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me.”

“That’s not your call to make,” I say firmly. “You’re here now, and we don’t let anyone mess with what’s ours.”

Her head snaps up, her eyes locking on mine. “What’s yours?”

I nod. “You, Riley. You and Asher are under our protection now. Chuck wants to come knocking? Let him. We’ll be ready.”

For the second time since she sat down, a tear slips down her cheek, but this time, it’s not fear I see in her eyes. It’s relief.

Police Commissioner Chuck.

Double fuck.

“Meet me back here in ten,” I tell the men.

While I may be the president of this club, I respect the opinions of the men in this room. This might not be a decision I make on my own.

“I’m gonna show you to the guest room, Riley,” I say, standing and holding out my hand. “You can rest in there for a bit. Kitchens fully stocked. Eat whatever and whenever you want. Feel free to move about the building. Just know that my men will be in and out throughout the day.”

“That room even has a TV,” Skip says, his body relaxed despite the fire in his eyes.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you about the sp…”

“Tell us later, babe,” I say. “You need more rest, and my men and I need to talk.”

“But it’s...”

“Later,” I say gently.

Taking my hand with a sigh, I help Riley up and lead her to her room.

I nearly buckle as the added weight of fucking Police Commissioner Chuck lands on my shoulders.

***

“This is a bad fucking idea, Prez,” Knuckles says as I step into the room. His face is a storm cloud, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “The last thing we need is the police sniffing around.”

I think about the newly arrived shipment of guns and ammo stashed in the warehouse and the drugs that my guys will be running across Palm Springs in the coming days. He’s not wrong. Hell, I can’t help but agree.

“I know.”

“The fucking police commissioner,” Crusher growls, pacing the length of the room like a caged lion.

“I know,” I sigh, the weight of it pressing down on me.

“He’s been riding our asses for years,” Skip chimes in, his tone sharp.

“I know,” I say again, the words clipped.

“This could very well be the downfall of the Iron Shadows,” Maverick throws in, ever the voice of cheerful pessimism.

“I know,” I reply, nodding.

“Not just the club,” Max adds. “The tattoo shop, the gym, the fucking bike garage. Everything we’ve built.”

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