Leah
Two Weeks Later
I’m walking across the parking lot after finishing my shift when I see him casually leaning against the side of my beat-up truck. I startle a little as if I’ve seen a ghost. In all honesty, it feels as if our first encounter was a dream. After two weeks of no-shows, I figured that whatever they were looking for wasn’t at the Sugar Shack. But here he is in the flesh. The man I haven’t been able to get out of my head for two weeks. Not some sexy made-up man of my dreams, after all. Just a big, bad biker who I’m now alone in a dark parking lot with.
“What do you want?” I say warily, keeping my distance.
“My Prez wants to meet with you.”
“Okay… then where is he?”
“In private,” Axel replies for clarification, pointing to the chopper parked next to my car.
“You must be insane if you think I’m going to get on the back of a stranger’s bike and let him take me someplace in the middle of the night,” I say dryly.
“You can follow in your truck, and you can message a friend to tell them who you’re with if you like. I promise no harm will come to you. We just want to talk.”
The logical side of my brain says this is madness, I should refuse like any sensible person would, yet I’m intrigued. I watch him warily, trying to make up my mind. He seemsearnest enough, though behind his stoic mask, I can tell he feels uncomfortable in my presence. God, how embarrassing. I must be the last person he wants to see—some chick he regrets making out with. It must be important if he’s come regardless.
“Fine. Lead the way,” I grunt, climbing into my truck.
I make a show of sending a message, but in reality, there’s no one I can contact. Big John would undoubtedly come to my aid if needed, but I wouldn’t want to bring that kind of trouble to his doorstep. The girls wouldn’t come unless there was something in it for them. They’re practical and not remotely altruistic; it’s every woman for themselves in their line of work. Any friends I had here have long since disappeared, frozen out by me, thanks to my jealous ex.
His bike roars into action as he turns it on and pulls out of the parking lot, and I follow. I briefly contemplate trying to lose him, taking a turn at the last second, but I instinctively know he’d have no issues catching up with me and I’d rather not piss him off. I’m also curious to know what the Steel Viper’s president wants from me.
I was expecting to be taken to the club’s main headquarters, the infamous Viper’s Den. So when we pull into the parking lot of a sleepy diner, I’m momentarily confused. Axel climbs off his bike with practiced ease as I turn off my engine and clamber out of my truck, trying and failing to look graceful.
It’s late, so the diner is mostly empty. In a booth at the far end, Zeus is sitting with a woman. She looks to be in her early fifties with white hair cut into a severe, short spiky style, but her tattoos and angular features make her seem younger. I nervously follow Axel over to them.
“Leah, it’s good to see you again. Please sit,” Zeus says, warmly.
I do as I’m told, hiding the pang of disappointment I feel when, instead of sitting beside me, Axel slopes off to sit on a stool at the counter away from us.
“This is my old lady, Donna,” he says, gesturing to the woman beside him.
“Nice to meet you,” I reply.
“You too. Can we get you something to eat or drink?” she replies, gesturing to the menu. She has a kind, maternal air to her, despite the severity of her look.
“Oh, no, it’s okay,” I reply, but they insist. When the waitress comes over, Zeus orders coffee and pie for all of us.
I’m exhausted, and though I shouldn’t drink coffee this late at night, I know I’m gonna need it to keep my wits about me for this conversation.
Only after our order has arrived do they begin questioning me. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we dragged you here in the middle of the night. We apologize for the cloak-and-dagger methods, but we want to keep this meeting as private as possible. The last time you saw my husband, he had some questions for you, and you were helpful enough to answer them. Now we have a proposal for you.”
“Look, no offense, you seem like nice people and all, but I don’t have any interest in working for your… club,” I say, narrowly stopping myself from calling it a gang. “I’m not a stripper, I don’t ride, nor do I have any interest in… whatever else you guys do…” I add, holding up my hands in surrender.
Zeus smiles, “We’re aware, we know that you have a clean record, that you’re fit and healthy, you don’t do drugs or have any gang affiliations, nor are you a sex worker, and you’re alone without a partner or family nearby. What we want to offer you is an opportunity. For you to do something for us that we believe you’re uniquely equipped to do. We’d pay you handsomely, enough money to move wherever you like or to stay here and live comfortably.”
“What is it you want me to do for you?” I ask warily, imagining that it’s drug trafficking or worse.
“I can assure you, it isn’t anything illegal. And, of course, we would guarantee your safety. You would have the full protection of the Steel Vipers for life,” Zeus adds.
This piques my interest. Having the protection of a powerful club like the Steel Vipers would make me untouchable. Either they know about my ex and how tempting the offer of protection is, or they’ve made a lucky guess. Perhaps they can recognize a desperate person in hiding as easily as we can recognize their club affiliation from their tattoos and patches. Is my vulnerability branded on me?
“Okay, I’m listening…”
Donna places a loving hand on her husband’s as she looks at me, taking over the conversation.