Page 10 of Claimed By The Club
Viper kneels near the cooler, rummaging for his wrench. “Mind the flashlight again?” he asks without looking back.
I find it where we left it and hand it to him. The overhead bulb is dim, so I kneel too, shining the beam on the cooler’s interior. Our shoulders brush. This close, I notice small details: the edge of a scar peeking from under his sleeve, the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, probably from smiling in the desert sun.
He maneuvers the clamp, tightening the connection until the drip slows to a stop. “That should do it,” he mutters triumphantly. Standing, he reaches out and helps me to my feet.
I tug my blouse straight, heat flushing my cheeks. “Thanks.”
He nods, wiping a smear of grease from his arm. “No problem.”
The bartender, overhearing, appears from the other side of the bar. “You two fix it?”
Viper gestures at the cooler. “Give it an hour to stabilize, but yeah. Should keep your drinks cold now.”
“Appreciate it,” the man replies, relief easing his features. He slips Viper a small envelope, probably a token of gratitude or payment. “I’ll let Frost know we’re good.”
As the bartender heads off to tinker with the registers, I return the flashlight to the table. My eyes flick around the dim room. “You handle a lot of random jobs, don’t you?”
He chuckles. “Club life is basically that: fix problems, patch holes, protect our turf. We’re family, so if something’s broken, we step up.”
That word family sends a pang through my chest. I used to feel that sense of unity with my business partner, Jen, until she stabbed me in the back. Now I’m clinging to the hope that these new people might provide the support I lack.
Viper’s phone buzzes, and he checks it, shooting me a half-smile. “Frost wants us at the clubhouse to talk. Probably about your proposal.”
My heart lurches. “All right, let’s go.”
I follow him outside, rummaging for my car keys. “I’ll drive my SUV this time. I’ll meet you there.”
He gives me a two-finger salute. “See you in a few.”
We part ways in the parking lot, engines starting in unison, though his is thunderous while mine merely hums. My mind whirls with everything I’ve witnessed: the camaraderie among them, the quiet authority they command, and the unspoken tension that laces every interaction. I feel like I’m standing at the edge of something big, uncertain if I should leap or back away.
When I reach the Renegade Cross compound, I spot Viper’s bike already parked. Dust plumes behind my SUV as I roll to a stop, stepping out into the relentless sun. At the entrance, I pause, letting the AC from inside brush my face. My thoughts tumble in every direction, but I push them aside and walk in, determined to show I belong here.
Frost is there, leaning against a battered pool table. Ghost hovers near a wall, arms folded, silent as ever. Viper stands between them, fiddling with a playing card he must’ve snatched from somewhere.
“Welcome back,” Frost says evenly, meeting my gaze.
Viper sets the card down and gestures at me, a small grin curving his lips. “Told you she can handle herself.”
I glance between the three of them, feeling my pulse thump. This is the moment that determines if our arrangement will move forward. If they accept me, I might finally gain the security I need. If not, I’ll be right back where I started—alone, vulnerable, and desperate.
Frost surveys me for a long second, then inclines his head. “We’re going to talk with the club tonight. But we’ve all agreed to give your plan a chance. You’ll be under our protection as long as you’re straight with us and keep up your end of the bargain.”
Relief flutters in my stomach, though I remain composed. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”
Ghost speaks in that quiet tone that makes every syllable count. “If the Iron Reapers show up, or if you see anyone suspicious, you come to us first. Understood?”
“Yes,” I say, voice firm.
Viper exchanges a glance with Frost, then returns his attention to me. “We’ll get you set up in a small safe house on the edge of our property, if you want. It’s more secure than that motel.”
I pause, debating. “That might be best. I’ll feel less like a sitting duck.”
Frost nods. “Good. We’ll gather your things, move you in. In return, you focus on analyzing our businesses. Start with Bluelight Bar. See what’s needed to boost revenue.”
My heart lifts. They’re giving me a real chance to prove myself. “Deal.”
Ghost straightens from his lean, crossing the room in a few swift strides. He’s taller than I realized, the silver of his eyes piercing as he stops near me. “Welcome to our world,” he murmurs. “Hope you’re ready.”
