Page 15 of Her Grumpy Biker
“No,” I tell her truthfully.
My sweet girl smiles at me, her deep green eyes shining with all the love in the world. I’d be a lucky son of a bitch if I could get her to look at me that way every day for the rest of my life.
“Then we’ll have to work on that confidence, won’t we?” Camden winks at me, and I can’t hold back my grin. How is she so damn perfect?
Ten minutes later, my woman is clinging to me as we take a right turn into the parking lot of The Black Crown. I hold her hand and lead her up to the main entrance of the biker-bar-slash-clubhouse, pausing a few feet from the door.
“You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met,” I tell her. “You’re strong and kick-ass, and you’re going to get through this. I know you’re anxious, but I’m right here. I’ll always be here,” I promise.
Camden gives me a small smile. She wants to believe me. I can work with that. My girl nods her head and straightens her back, rolling her shoulders out as she puts on an air of confidence.
Every set of eyes in the bar turns to us as soon as we step inside. Possessiveness sweeps through me, capturing my breath and squeezing my heart to the point of pain.Mine.
I don’t want to own Camden as if she’s an object. No, I want to keep her, protect her, and watch her grow into everything her parents feared; an independent woman who speaks her mind and demands respect.
Camden tenses beside me, and I wrap an arm around her waist, tucking her further into my side. I stare down each and every one of my brothers as we make our way to the back room where Rock and Savior are waiting.
One man glances from me to Camden, his eyes resting on her for a second too long. I snarl at him, and he averts his gaze, though I don’t miss the smirk on his face. I don’t give a fuck if I’m being over-the-top. Everyone in here needs to know Camden is my woman, and they will, soon enough.
We make it to the back room, and I guide Camden to sit at the table across from the President and Vice President of Savage Kings MC. I join her, holding her hand under the table. She laces her fingers through mine and clings to me like I’m the only thing keeping her anchored to the earth.
“Who sent you on a delivery to the railroad tracks?” Rock asks immediately. His gaze is intense, and while I know it’s just because he’s focused on getting rid of our new enemies, Camden doesn’t.
“I think what our President meant to say is thank you for sitting down with us today,” I say, giving Rock a pointed look. He rolls his eyes, and I narrow mine, letting him know he needs to back off if he wants her to talk.
“Yes, of course. Thanks for showing up.” Rock takes a breath, trying to calm down enough to have a conversation. He’s not used to talking to anyone other than hardened bikers. I get it. I was like that, too, until Camden came along.
“I want to help,” my girl says, her voice stronger than I know she feels at the moment. “I didn’t know what I was agreeing to when I accepted the job. I was told it would be easy and I would have enough money to pay rent at the end of the day.”
“Who told you that?” Savior asks.
“My landlord, Peter Logan.”
My brothers and I grunt at the mention of Peter. He’s a small-time criminal, always looking for an easy buck. He often navigates the gray areas of the law, such as predatory rental policies for his tenants. However, we’ve been keeping an eye on him in case he gets any big ideas. Looks like the fucker followed his dreams and became a dealer.
“And how did Peter set things up?” Rock inquires. I can tell he’s making an effort to speak slowly and softly. Well, as softly as an MC President can muster.
Camden launches into the events that took place last night. The meeting place was in the alley behind Bottles & Bites. She describes the strung-out drug dealer who gave her the coat and two addresses, along with the instructions to drop the coat off and wait at the park for the second package, presumably the cash.
Knowing how the evening ended, it becomes clear what actually happened. The Sons of Decimation aren’t cooking meth on their own yet, but they’ve set themselves up to be middlemen. Distributors of the product, but not the producers. Fucking cowards sent a young woman to do their drop, probably because they thought something like this would happen.
Stitch, Bruise, and Guardrail clearly thought they could steal the drugs and blame it on the Camden, but those fuckers haveanother thing coming. Not only will their supplier be out for their heads, but now my brothers and I have a reason to put them six feet under.
“I was supposed to wait at the park for someone with a long gray beard with braids in it,” Camden finishes. “That’s it. That’s all I know.”
“Shit,” Rock mutters.
“Mugshot?” I ask. Savior and Rock nod, the same disgusted and outraged look on their faces as I’m sure I have on mine.
“Uh, no, I haven’t seen a mugshot,” Camden answers.
“It’s his road name,” I clarify. “Mine is Deadeye, remember?”
She nods, and I brush my thumb over her knuckles.
“Fucking Mugshot,” Rock grunts. “Thought he was still in prison.”
“He never stays locked up for long,” Savior says. “You think he’s their President?”
