Page 40 of Texting the Wrong Bikers

“You got a death threat shoved under your fucking door,” Trigger says flatly.

She doesn’t let Trigger boss her around. “And we don’t even know if it’s real!”

Trigger actually laughs at that, a dry, dangerous laugh without amusement. “The fuck does that even mean?”

“It means maybe somebody’s trying to scare me.”

“That’s literally still a threat.”

Chief steps in before Trigger can spiral further. Always the damn adult in the room. He speaks calmly in a measured voice. “We’re not trying to scare you, sweetheart.”

I catch the tiny flicker in Trigger’s expression when Chief calls her sweetheart. Yep, we’re definitely fucked.

Sadie exhales hard. “I just don’t want this becoming…”

“Becoming what?” I ask.

Her eyes flick around the clubhouse uncertainly. “Complicated.”

Too late. Way too fucking late. Trigger leans forward slowly, forearms braced on the table. “You and Owen aren’t staying alone right now.”

The finality in his voice makes Sadie bristle instantly. “You don’t get to decide that.”

His jaw tightens harder. “And you don’t get to act like this isn’t serious.”

Chief watches both of them carefully now. Shadow too. We all see it. Trigger’s already hanging by a thread, which would be less concerning if he weren’t built like a man capable of physically throwing a truck through a building.

Sadie shakes her head. “I can just call if something happens.”

Trigger’s expression goes cold. “No.” The word lands hard enough that the entire table goes quiet.

Even Sadie blinks slightly, looking as if she’s wondering what kind of man she shared her bed with last night.

I step in before Trigger accidentally turns this into a hostage negotiation. “He’s right.” Trigger glances at me briefly, surprised. I shrug. “If somebody’s watching the house, calling after something happens isn’t exactly ideal.”

Sadie looks frustrated now. “I don’t need armed bodyguards.”

I grin slightly. “Baby, if we were bodyguards, we’d charge you.”

That gets a reluctant tiny smile out of her. Trigger does not look amused that I made her smile—possessive bastard. I wince as Trigger punches me on the arm, a little too hard to be playful.

Shadow finally speaks for the first time in several minutes, his voice quiet and measured. “We rotate.” Everybody looks at him. He shrugs. “One guy each night. Outside or inside the house. Whatever she’s comfortable with.”

Sadie hesitates.

Trigger immediately opens his mouth, probably to volunteer permanently, but Chief cuts him off smoothly. “Temporarily,” Chief says calmly. “Until we figure out whether the threat’s real.”

Sadie bites her lip, thinking. Fuck, that’s dangerously attractive. I catch myself staring at her mouth and immediately look away before Trigger murders me in public. But I’m too late, of course, he noticed. His eyes narrow slowly.

Sadie finally exhales. “Okay. One or two weeks max.”

Trigger still looks unhappy, but Shadow’s suggestion is the first thing she hasn’t outright rejected.

Chief nods once. “Done.”

The tension eases slightly around the table. Not fully, but enough that I no longer worry Trigger will go nuclear. Sadie slowly relaxes back into her chair, though she still looks overwhelmed.

Which is fair enough, a week ago, she thought she was flirting with a gym trainer. Now she’s sitting in a biker clubhouse negotiating protective custody with four outlaw bikers.