Page 35 of Stalked

“Hardly worth mentioning,” I replied, and huffed out a heavy breath. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Glancing at my phone, I found the text from Cami again, trying to get Shannon’s mind off Caleb and back to why we were sitting in a biker bar.

“None of this makes sense,” I said, holding up the text. “Meet me at The Hideout. Here?”

The Hideout was a bar run by biker gangs living on Newport Island. It wasn’t our crowd, let alone Cami’s. To say I felt a little out of place and uncomfortable was an understatement.

“Well, we’re older now. Things change,” Shannon said.

I leaned into her ear. “Not this much.”

Every time the front bell chimed, we turned to see if it was Cami. “Oh, come on,” Shannon said. “Hot, tatted guys with muscles so big you could only imagine the size of their cocks. I’m in.”

“Oh, God,” I said, letting out a laugh at the visual of Shannon being taken by the men we’d watched come and go in the bar over the last hour. I could picture her being whisked away on the back of a motorcycle, disappearing for a few hours. Then, stumbling back to me in the morning, looking freshly fucked and delighted with herself.

“Did Cami explain what she wanted and where she’s been?” Shannon asked, bringing her fresh cocktail to her lips.

I shook my head. “Only that she needed to talk. That’s all,” I said. “Cami didn’t want to do it anywhere in town in case we ran into someone we knew.”

Another bell rang. Not her.

“Well, cheers, bitch!” she said before we clinked our glasses.

Another bell chimed. When I turned, my stomach lurched.

“Fucking hell,” I said aloud when I had only meant to curse silently. Shannon tilted her head in confusion at my outburst.

While I kept my eyes downcast, Shannon purred in my ear, “Hmm. He’s fun to look at.” I could feel him stepping closer to me as his warmth made my skin tingle, forcing me to ignore it. “And he’s staring right at you.”

Caleb’s arms were folded tightly across his chest. He looked at me with a guarded, hostile expression that made me squirm and flush even warmer.

“Shannon, this is Caleb,” I said, looking up at him to meet his cold-stone gaze. The essence of pine permeated between us.Fuck, he smells good. “Caleb, one of my best friends, Shannon.”

“Have a seat, Mr. Stalker,” she said coyly. “I think Mercy needs another drink.”

I stared at Caleb for a moment, wondering what would happen next. Nothing did, thankfully. He only smiled and signaled with his head for the bartender.

I had sunk into my seat, sipping the last of my Mule, before turning to him again and reminding myself that just because he looks and smells delicious, doesn’t mean I can’t keep my composure.

“I think you’re old enough to have a drink, right?” I teased with a slight smile.

His smile matched mine, his white teeth glimmering against his lightly tanned skin before he pulled out his chair. “Old enough.”

Caleb ordered a beer, then shifted to me.

“A biker bar?” he muttered. “Really, Mercy?”

“I’m thinking of buying a Harley,” I said casually. “What do you think? Can you picture me riding one?”

Caleb narrowed his bright amber eyes at me, but they didn’t look friendly. Every ounce of willpower I had went into not letting him see me squirm under his gaze.

“Mercy, why are you guys here?” he asked in a clipped tone. I could tell he was trying to control his anger, but he couldn’t hide it with how his jaw clenched.

“Why do you care?” I asked, the picture of innocence as I waited for his response.

“Mercy.”

“Caleb.”

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