Page 26 of Hard as Stone
The floor creaks under my feet and his voice cuts off abruptly.
Shit.
I dive for my bed as his door opens, my heart pounding. But it’s not the conversation that has my pulse racing—it’s the memory of Axel’s words outside city hall:
This town isn’t what it seems. And neither are the people running it.
What exactly has my father gotten us mixed up in?
8
AXEL
“Up! Up!”
From my spot in the clubhouse doorway, I watch Steel—our newest prospect—lift one of Hawk’s two-year-old twins overhead. The toddler squeals with delight, her sister hanging onto Steel’s leg, determined to get her turn.
The prospect is supposed to be learning club business, yet here he is playing fairy princess, complete with a plastic tiara perched on his head. Hard to maintain a badass biker image with pink glitter in your beard.
“My tuwn!” Amy—or maybe it’s Abby, I still can’t tell them apart—tugs at Steel’s cut. The clubhouse has changed since these kids became part of our MC family when their aunt Andi took them in after their mother took off with some loser. Where scantily clad women once draped themselves over leather furniture, there are now scattered toys and sippy cups. The back room that used to host our wilder parties has been converted into a playroom. Some of our older members grumbled about it at first, sayingHawk and Andi literally live across the street and didn’t need extra space over here, but watching Hawk transform from our hardcore sergeant-at-arms into a man who makes dinosaur-shaped pancakes—it’s changed us all for the better.
“Girls,” Andi calls from where she’s attempting to change baby Adam on the couch while he tries to twist around and crawl away. “Let Steel breathe a minute.”
But the prospect just grins, scooping up both toddlers. “I got them.”
The scene hits me in the gut—this makeshift family we’ve created, the way these abandoned kids found a home with us, how they’ve wrapped the toughest bastards I know around their tiny fingers. It’s everything I want with Poppy, and that realization terrifies me. The same way she terrifies me—this urge to protect, to provide, to be the kind of man who deserves her trust. Not just the Road Captain using her for information.
“Chapel. Now,” Stone’s voice breaks through my thoughts.
“Time for church, boys,” I call out, watching as the other members start filing through the clubhouse and out toward the chapel.
The old carriage house was converted long before my time, making it the perfect place for our meeting space—just far enough from the main house to keep club business private.
We chose this location because of the land. The massive block backs onto the quiet and poorer area of town, filled with those who are likely to ignore any after-dark dealings.
The yard stretches the length of the block, complete with the original buildings. The MC has made good use of every oneof those buildings, from the original farmhouse which gives our leadership and guests a place to lay their heads, to the bunkhouse houses where prospects and visiting members can catch some sleep, while barns and sheds now store bikes and equipment instead of hay and livestock.
The compound contains everything we need—including some hiding places for stuff we don’t want the locals cops getting a whiff of.
Steel sets the girls down gently. “Sorry princesses, duty calls.”
I ruffle the girls’ hair as I pass. “Be good for Andi.”
Inside the chapel, the mood shifts as we gather around the table. Maps and documents cover every surface—proof of Summit’s systematic takeover of our town. We’ve been fighting their bogus code violations and strong-arm tactics for months, even managed to block them from creating a corridor straight through the west side that would have run through Duck’s garage. But they keep finding new ways to push our people out.
I take my seat, trying to focus on club business instead of the way Poppy felt in my arms last night. The memory of her soft curves pressed against me, the taste of her lips, the way she’d looked wrapped in my jacket—it’s all I can think about. But I force those thoughts away as Stone calls the meeting to order.
“All right brothers, we’ve got a lot to cover,” Stone says, his mouth turned down. “Summit’s pushing hard on the west side. Three more families got eviction notices this week.”
“On what grounds?” Lee asks, leaning forward.
“‘Health and safety concerns,’” Stone quotes with a sneer. “Same bullshit they pulled with Mrs. Wilson. Suddenly, every house onthat block is ‘structurally unsound.’ There’s also some shit about sewerage pipes and whatnot, but what it boils down to is sweet fucking bullshit.”
“Convenient timing,” Duck adds, shuffling through some papers. “Right when their road crew starts tearing up access routes and laying pipes for those properties. Give them more evidence of the issues with that neighborhood.”
My jaw clenches. Poppy’s crew. Though from what I can tell, she has no idea how their work is being used to isolate these families.
“Had some customers cancel on me at the garage too,” Duck continues. “Said the roadblocks kept turning them around.”
