Page 20 of Property of Spike

“Riley,” he says, sighing heavily, clearly unimpressed by my tangent.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “No, I didn’t see them. I was in the room you gave me. I just heard their voices.”

“Listen closely,” he says, his tone hardening as he steps forward, crossing his arms again. “This isn’t a democracy. What I say goes. Not everyone’s gonna be happy with the decisions I make, but they, and you, need to trust that I know what the fuck I’m doing. Got it?”

I bite my lip, unsure how to respond, but his steady gaze leaves no room for argument.

“Got it,” I sigh.

“Good,” he nods. “Now, let’s get you back to your room. It’s midnight. You should be sleeping.”

Not wanting to seem ungrateful, I stand and follow him down the hallway. I’d spent most of the day holed up in my room, onlyventuring out a few times to find food and stretch my legs. Spike wasn’t lying when he said people would be in and out all day, but not once did I see him until now.

I don’t know why that bothers me. Why does it leave this hollow ache in my chest?

“In you go, babe,” he says, opening the door to my room. “Get some sleep. Night.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

I’m alone. Again.

I lean against the closed door, letting out a shaky breath. I tell myself not to compare this to my life with Chuck, but it’s impossible not to. He did this kind of thing all the time. Sent me away, told me to go home when I brought him lunch, and made excuses about why I couldn’t come to his work parties.

Not that it mattered much in the end. Chuck and I hadn’t so much as shared a room since I got pregnant. Five years together, and it never really felt like we weretogether.I was just something convenient, someone he could use when he needed and hurt when he wanted.

The truth is, I don’t think I ever loved him. I think I was just desperate. Desperate to feel wanted, even for a moment. Someone like me, someone big, someone who doesn’t turn heads, grabs onto that feeling, and clings tight, too afraid we’ll never feel it again.

But when Spike shut the door and walked away, it hit harder than I expected.

Why doesn’t anyone ever want me around?

Chapter Eight

Spike

Riley and Asher have been here for three days now, but I’ve only stopped by to see her once. Call me a coward, but she makes my head fuzzy, and I can’t afford that.

Especially not today.

“Who’s running today?” Tank asks, his arms crossed, his expression sharp.

“Knuckles is leading the East Chapter,” I reply, scanning the room. The men gathered around the table look calm, focused, but I know better. Tensions are always high on transfer days, and for good reason. We’re transporting over one million dollars worth of rock candy. While we don’t sell the shit, this transfer alone is making us twenty-five hundred grand.

“They’ll carry the majority of the goods. I want all thirty of them on two wheels for this. No exceptions. I also want four more men in vehicles, flanking the front and back. I’ll take the rest with ten men from here. Tank, you’ll drive the car. We’ll follow five minutes behind. The buyer will meet us at location five, at the edge of Palm Springs.”

The bikes are for show. A distraction. The vehicles will be the ones transporting the goods. They have hidden compartments designed to keep even the damn drug dogs from finding them.

Tank nods, but his brows pull together. “That’s a lot of heat, Prez. You expecting trouble?”

“Always,” I say. “But this isn’t just about moving product. It’s about making a statement.”

“Got it,” Tank says, but there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes. “And if Chuck catches wind? He always has his goons watching us like a hawk. They might get curious as to why there are so many bikers together.”

“If Chuck wants to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, he’ll regret it,” I say, leaning forward. My voice drops low, carrying a weight that silences the room. “This is our territory. Our rules. And we’re not about to roll over for anyone. Not even the fucking police commissioner.”

There’s a murmur of agreement around the table, and I nod, satisfied.

“Knuckles, you and Tank will make the handoff and stay until the buyer’s out of our territory. No one leaves their posts until I get the all-clear.”

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