Page 32 of Claimed By The Club
I glance up, heart fluttering at the mention of that name. “Oh?”
“Yeah, something about a ride.” Axel’s grin widens. “He’s out front.”
With a quick thank-you, I exit, weaving through the lounge. Various members nod or give half-smiles, no longer ignoring me as they did in the beginning. The hostility has dialed back now that they realize I’m not some flighty city girl.
I reach the front entrance, where the desert heat presses in. Viper leans against his matte-black bike, arms crossed over a toned chest. Sunglasses perch on his nose, making it hard to read his expression, but his easy smile suggests he’s in a playful mood.
“Hey, Ms. Excel Spreadsheet,” he calls, tipping his shades down. “Got a moment to step away from the financial empire you’re building?”
I laugh softly. “I think so. What’s on your mind?”
He pats the motorcycle seat behind him. “Thought we could take a ride. The moon’s gonna be full tonight, and there’s a spot just outside town where the view’s killer.”
My stomach does a little flip. The tension that’s been swirling around me—between Frost, Ghost, and now Viper—makes me cautious, but I also crave a break from meeting agendas and watch rotations. A ride under the moon feels like the perfect escape.
“Let me grab a jacket,” I say, heading to the safe house. I hurry through the sparse living area, snatch my lightweight denim jacket from a hook, and return to find Viper waiting. The sight of him stirs an inexplicable warmth in my chest. He’s the youngest of the three men I’ve grown close to, the one who exudes a laid-back charm that sneaks under my defenses.
He hands me a spare helmet, then climbs onto his Harley. I slip on the jacket, secure the helmet, and settle in behind him, arms wrapping around his waist. My heart thuds as the engine roars to life. There’s something exhilarating about pressing this close to him, the vibration of the bike rumbling through every cell.
We pull out of the compound, dust trailing behind us. The sky shifts from pale gold to deep orange as dusk settles. The wind whips at my hair where it peeks out from under the helmet, carrying away the day’s stress. I cling to Viper, letting the ride free my mind of spreadsheets and rival gang threats.
He navigates a winding road outside Clearwater Springs, passing a few scattered buildings and endless stretches of desert brush. Eventually, he slows near a turnoff bordered by rocky hills. We pass a rusted sign half-covered in graffiti, then ascend a gentle slope. The sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky with a wash of indigo and pink. Soon, the full moon emerges, silver and bright against the darkening heavens.
We come to a stop on a flat overlook, the desert sprawled out below. I slide off, removing my helmet to shake out my hair. Viper kills the engine, pushes down the kickstand, and stretches.
“Wow,” I breathe, surveying the scene. The moon’s light illuminates the distant sand, casting shifting shadows. I can see the faint glow of Clearwater Springs’ lights miles away.
He tucks his helmet under one arm, turning to me with an easy grin. “Told you it’s a good view.”
I can’t stop a smile from curving my lips. “It’s perfect.”
He sets the helmets aside, and we find a large rock to sit on, face to face with the wide-open sky. The air is cooler here, a gentle breeze rustling my jacket sleeves. My pulse hasn’t quite settled from the ride, a rush of adrenaline still lingering.
Viper watches me, green eyes glinting in the moonlight. “You’ve been working nonstop. Figured you deserved a night off.”
My shoulders sink, tension easing. “Thanks. I needed this. Life’s been… intense.”
He nods, gaze drifting to the horizon. “I get it. The Reapers stirring up trouble, your old life left behind, now you’re juggling club finances… that’s a lot.”
A quiet settles. I tilt my head. “What about you? I hardly know anything about where you come from.”
He exhales, leaning back with hands braced on the rock. “Long story short, I’m the youngest of three kids. Dad walked out when I was a baby. Mom tried her best, but we were broke. I got into bikes as a teenager—some older guys showed me the ropes. The MC gave me structure I never had.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my left ear. “So you’ve been with Renegade Cross a while?”
“Six years, give or take. Patched in at twenty-two, worked my way up. Frost recognized I’m good at managing security and morale, so I became Sergeant-at-Arms.” He smiles, a flicker of pride in his eyes. “The club’s my family now.”
That resonates with me. I swing one leg, foot brushing dust. “I never thought I’d stumble a place among bikers, but I can see the sense of belonging you all share.”
He studies me, expression shifting to something softer. “You fit in better than you think. Sure, some members are suspicious, but that’s just how it goes. You’re proving yourself every day.”
A surge of gratitude floods me. “It helps that I have people like you on my side.”
His grin turns playful. “Glad you noticed.” Then he grows serious again. “Frost and Ghost… they do their best. Each has their own burdens. Frost keeps the club’s big picture in mind.Ghost shoulders the dirty work, plus his own demons. They both mean well.”
I swallow, heart pulsing at the mention of them. “I know. They’ve both saved me more than once. And—” I hesitate, the memory of clandestine moments with Frost and that stolen kiss with Ghost twisting my stomach. “It’s complicated.”
He nods knowingly. “It can be. Feelings run hot under this roof. We watch each other’s backs, day in and day out. Closeness happens.”
