Page 14 of Cipher's Baby Girl
“Are you saying you wouldn't know how to fix a bike if the manual came to life and did it for you?” Rose’s voice is playful, teasing.
"Hey! I'm not stupid, just mechanically challenged," Rash protests good-naturedly. "Besides, that's what we have Hawk for. I handle other things."
"Like what?" Her ease with him is painful to witness.
"Security, sweetheart. I keep beautiful women like you safe." He winks dramatically, and they both laugh.
My fists clench involuntarily until my knuckles turn white. A possessiveness blinds me. My jaw aches from clenching it, and I taste blood again.
Sweetheart. He called her sweetheart.
My fingers hover over the keyboard. The temptation to assign Rash to night shift perimeter duty for the next month is almost overwhelming. I could have him doing the most degrading prospect work despite his patched status.
Instead, I force myself to switch screens. I need to channel this possessive energy somewhere productive. Somewhere that doesn't involve terrorizing my brother for talking to a woman who isn't mine. Who will never be mine.
But as I work, I keep the common room feed open in a small window at the corner of my screen, unable to completely look away from her.
For her protection, of course.
But the burning in my chest when Rash makes her laugh again says otherwise.
And when he casually drapes his arm over her slender shoulders, my control snaps. Before I'm fully conscious of my decision, I've accessed the club's duty roster.
With a few precise keystrokes, Rash is reassigned to night shift patrolling the north quadrant—the most remote, isolated posting.
The assignment will effectively ensure he has minimal contact with Rose for the next week. Meddling with the scheduling in such a way is completely childish, irrational behavior. Totally beneath me.
I submit the changes anyway.
Remote sector. Solo.
Chapter 5
Rose
The compound has gradually become more crowded over the past two days. Bikers from allied clubs all over the state have arrived for Luna and Saint’s wedding.
The wedding ceremony itself is brief and surprisingly touching. Luna wears a gorgeous dress that belonged to her mother, and Saint's expression as she walks toward him contains such naked adoration it almost hurts my heart to witness. They exchange vows, and when Saint kisses her, the crowd erupts in cheers and wolf whistles.
Afterward, the reception transforms the outside courtyard into a raucous party—wilder, louder, more chaotic than any gathering I've ever experienced.
I watch as strange men with cuts from other motorcycle clubs mingle with women in various states of undress.
Music blasts from massive speakers. A long line of tables are laden with food along one side, while a makeshift bar dominates another. I hover near the edge of the activity, nursing a soda that I've barely touched. Every instinct screams at me to remain invisible, to avoid drawing attention.
"Having fun?" Rash appears beside me, looking different in a clean button-up shirt instead of his usual ratty t-shirt, though his leather cut remains firmly in place.
"It's...intense," I admit.
He laughs. "Wait 'til they really get going. This is tame compared to what it'll be in a couple of hours."
The thought makes my anxiety spike. Already the noise is overwhelming, the press of bodies making me feel trapped. "I'm not sure I'll last that long."
Rash's expression turns sympathetic. "It's a lot, I know. First time I was at a club party, I stood in the corner wide-eyed, just watching, for hours.” He nods toward the outbuilding on the far side of the compound. "There's a quieter spot behind the garage if you need a breather. Not many people go back there."
I smile gratefully. "Thanks. I might do that."
"Just let me know if you need an escort. Some of these guys from other chapters can get handsy when they're drunk."
