Page 68 of Property of Spike

“I don’t know,” I say, tossing my arms up. “I made him a sandwich, we talked for a few minutes, and he left. He didn’t act as if he shouldn’t be here.”

“What did he look like?”

“You’re not exactly helping my theory about me going crazy, big guy.”

“Riley.”

“Fudge. Fine. Uhm. A little under six feet. Red hair. Green eyes. Snarky, crooked smile. And he had his hair pulled back in a man bun.”

“Was he wearing a cut?”

“Cut?”

Tank points to his vest.

“No, he had on a gray hoodie.”

“Don’t move from this spot,” he says, turning and leaving.

Seconds later, he waltzes back in. “On second thought, come with me.”

I swallow hard, my stomach twisting with a mix of nerves and confusion. “What’s going on, Tank? You’re starting to freak me out here.”

Tank’s face is all business now, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something darker, more urgent. He steps closer, lowering his voice so it’s just for me. “That guy you described?He’s not from one of our chapters, Riley. And if he’s asking about you, that’s a problem.”

“Wait, what?” I step back, my heart rate picking up. “You mean... he’s not part of the club?”

“No, he’s not,” Tank says firmly, his eyes scanning the room as though searching for any sign of danger. “There is a strict rule. If you don’t live inside the compound, you don’t remove your cut while inside the walls. I know every person involved in this club, Riley. As VP, I’ve made it my job to know all of their faces. He isn’t one of us. I need you to trust me on this. Come on, let’s go.”

I nod hesitantly, the weight of his words sinking in. Every instinct tells me I should be more worried, but I follow him anyway, the knot in my stomach tightening. Something doesn’t feel right, and now I know it’s not just me. Tank’s never this serious unless something’s off.

As I follow him out of the kitchen, I glance over my shoulder toward the door, my mind racing with questions I can’t seem to answer.

Who was that guy? Why was he asking about me? And why the hell is Tank so determined to keep me close?

We pass half a dozen men on our way to wherever we’re going, and true to his word, every one of them wears their biker vests.

Eventually, we land in the war room. Spike looks up, his smile fading when he sees the look on my face.

“What the fuck happened?” he asks, handing Asher off to Crusher.

He stands but doesn’t move any closer.

Before I can get a word out, Tank lays the whole story on him.

“He could have been from one of the other Iron Shadows chapters,” I add quickly. “Yesterday, a few came over just to hang out, remember?”

“You said he didn’t recognize you?” Spike asks, not budging from his spot.

Why isn’t he rushing over here to pull me into his arms?

“No,” I answer honestly. “He asked who I was. He said he recognized my name from something Chuck said on the news.”

“But he didn’t know who you were?”

“Spike, there are at least a hundred people in your club,” I snap, my voice rising. “If he came from another chapter, hewouldn’tknow who I am.”

“Foster, call the other three chapters,” Spike orders.

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