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“Personally, I think it’s that and more. Hawthorne’s reputation for protecting women is legendary. Fury took a swipe at us to see how quick we’d react. He clearly didn’t like our reaction time, as he’s not tried again.” Hawthorne ran his hand through his hair.
“Ezra, Dana has training; she can shoot a gun and knows how to look for signs her home may have been broken into. Dana’s timid but not stupid, and she will defend herself and has the skills to do so. It’s part of our program, even for a receptionist, and she’s more than that. But do I believe she’s in danger? Yeah. Every female in RC is. Fury won’t give a shit who they belong to, could be some poor school mom who one of his assholes takes a fancy to.”
“Why do you think Rage is going to war?” Ezra retorted. “Not because it’s fun. We can’t even get a grip on how many MCs he has fuckin’ taken over because some have kept their real names. Not everybody was forced to change to Venomous Fangs. And those we don’t know about, they’re the ace he’s holding up his sleeve.”
“We can’t do more than we’re doing, Hawthorne. Something is going to break and soon. Fury is going to get fed up of toying with everyone. Maybe it’s worth gathering the old ladies and hellions and every other female and sending them away,” Ezra mused.
“How long for, Ezra? Weeks? Months? A year? We ain’t got a time frame or anything. Shit, we don’t have anyone inside them apart from Irish’s guy, and his info is drying up. I reckon the man’s been made.”
“We’re thinking the same,” Ezra agreed. He sent Hawthorne a look. “Dana’s mine to protect and love, Hawthorne. Help me, don’t hinder me.”
Ezra waited as Hawthorne gave him a contemplative stare before the man finally nodded.
“Hurt her though, and we’ll end you long before the Fangs do,” Hawthorne said, one last warning.
Ezra let him have it. He didn’t need to wave his dick in the air.
Dana
I was nervous Monday morning when I let myself into the offices. We all had our own keys and used them when the reception wasn’t manned. Once I was in the business, it was habit to buzz everyone in. I did eight till five every day, which weren’t bad hours, and Dylan gave me three weekends out of four off. That was a very nice perk.
I’d seen Dylan, Davies, and London’s cars down in the parking lot, so I knew they were in. As usual, the coffee machine in the corner wasn’t switched on, and it was always my first job. The men were heavy-handed with it, and after Kele broke it for the sixth time, Dylan had banned them all from trying to start it in the morning. Once I had it up and running, they could fetch the fancy coffees they drank from it.
After I’d inspected the levels of everything and checked the creamers, I flipped the one switch and waited. By eight fifteen, Dylan would be down, first in line, for his coffee. That machine saved them a fortune because they drank so much of the stuff.
I was at my desk when Dylan appeared, scowling at Davies. Davies was second in command, and London third in the chain-of-command.
London trailed closely on their heels with a smirk.
“Morning,” Dylan grunted, heading straight for the coffeemaker.
“Good morning, boss,” I replied as I began loading up my office laptop. Emails were the first thing I checked each day, followed by phone messages. All emails came directly to me, and I forwarded them on to the relevant person.
“Hear you had a hot date,” London said, tapping my desk for attention.
“Hear you have one every night!” I teased, and London acted affronted.
Davies chuckled. “Dana got you there,” he stated with a smirk.
“Shut up, asshole. So, sweetness, tell me about this big, bad biker you’re dating,” London pushed.
London forgets how well I know him. Despite his teasing, there is a glint in his eye, which tells me he’s more than curious.
“Do you tell me about your dates?” I demanded and realised I’d said the wrong thing.
“Yes!” London crowed, and Davies shook his head.
“Okay.” I chuckled as Davies dumped a drink on my desk. “Only because you all come to me to whine about women!”
“That’s true,” London agreed. “So, spill the beans.”
“It was a date, a chilled one, where we ate a meal in a very nice restaurant.”
“And?” London waggled his brows.
“And he took me home, kissed me, and left!” I stated firmly.
London’s jaw dropped open. “He never tried to get to third base?”
