Page 35 of Vendetta
Vendetta?Was that Josh’s club name now?Given what he’d been through, it was fitting.
Behind him, two more men stepped into view.One was tall and blond, handsome like the leading man in a movie.Dylan had to smile because his patch said “Hero.”The other had long silver hair framing his face, the same silver streaking his beard, and the kind of stillness that demanded respect.His patch said “Razor,” and she remembered Josh saying he was the club president.
Deva finally looked up, wiping her gloved hand on a rag.Her gaze moved from Outcast to Josh and then to Dylan.“He’s not alone.”
Josh stepped back so they could all see her, keeping his voice calm but firm.“She’s the reason I’m here.This is Dylan Crizer.Eli’s niece.”
If the floor could have just swallowed her up right there, Dylan would have been just fine with it.Anything to escape the sudden pressure of being the center of attention in a room full of rough, dangerous-looking bikers.She felt the weight of their gazes, sizing her up, measuring risk.And she knew they saw Eli Crizer’s blood.The niece of the man they had every reason to hate.
It was Hero who looked at her the longest, his blue eyes narrowed with open skepticism.Like he was trying to decide if she was a threat, or just another problem they didn’t need.She couldn’t blame him.
Dylan straightened her shoulders anyway, even though her stomach churned.She wasn’t there to cause trouble.But part of her still wasn’t sure she belonged.
Razor took a single step closer, his presence cutting through the room like a blade.“Why’d you bring her here?”
“She’s in danger,” Josh replied.“From her own fucking uncle.Eli tried handing her off like she was property to one of those men from Sinister Skin.And I couldn’t allow that.She’s mine.”
Dylan’s breath caught.She’s mine.
The words should’ve felt possessive or territorial, even.And maybe coming from someone else, they would have.But not from Josh.When he said it, his voice cracked slightly, like the claim came from a place of desperation, not the need to dominate.It felt like he’d been holding the words back too long, and the only way to protect her now was to make it clear to everyone, including himself, that she wasn’t just a pawn.
Heat flushed her cheeks, but not from embarrassment.She glanced toward the Hounds, aware of the judgment in Hero’s gaze, the way Outcast’s jaw tensed, and the way Razor stood still as stone.But none of it mattered at that moment.
Josh had saidshe’s mine, and she didn’t feel owned.She felt chosen.And God help her, part of her needed that right now more than anything.
Then Razor spoke, his hazel-eyed gaze on her.“You vouch for her?”
Josh nodded.“With everything I’ve got.”
Outcast didn’t smile, but the tension in his shoulders eased.
From the far corner of the shop, Deva wiped her hands on a clean towel and stood, the purple locks of her hair catching the overhead light as she crossed the floor.The hum of the tattoo machine faded as her client leaned back, clearly understanding this moment wasn’t about him.When Dylan looked closer, she realized the man in her chair was wearing a Hound cut too.
Deva glanced at Dylan with a quiet, assessing look.“Razor,” she said gently, coming to stand beside him.“Look at her.She’s scared to death.”
Dylan felt her throat tighten.She wasn’ttryingto look scared.But her whole body was still humming with leftover adrenaline, fear, confusion, and heartbreak, so much that she couldn’t hide if she tried.
Razor’s sharp gaze moved back to Dylan.The man radiated power, but at Deva’s words, his expression shifted just enough to feel like just maybe, she wasn’t walking into the lion’s den completely alone.
“You’re safe here,” Razor said to her.
Dylan’s voice barely worked to answer, “Thank you.”
Behind her, Josh exhaled loudly.
Razor nodded, his focus back on Josh.“We’ll talk at the clubhouse.I want the full rundown.Everything you’ve seen.Everything you’ve got.”
“You’ll get it,” Josh told him.
Razor turned toward the others.“Mount up.Let’s move.”
Outcast clapped Hero on the back, already headed for the door.Deva returned to her client with a pat on Dylan’s shoulder as she passed.
Back in the van, Dylan waited quietly as Josh started the engine.Her nerves hadn’t eased, but something about being around Deva, her calm and confidence, made her feel just a little less like an outsider.She still wasn’t sure she belonged, but they hadn’t shoved her out yet, either.
The drive to the clubhouse was mostly silent, save for the rumble of bikes ahead and behind them.Josh kept checking the mirrors, ever watchful.Dylan didn’t ask where they were going.She figured she’d find out soon enough.
When they arrived, the building loomed in front of them like a fortress dressed in weathered brick and quiet history.It didn’t feel threatening.It felt… safe.
