Page 83 of Texting the Wrong Bikers

“Yes.”

“Seriously, Dani, this is no laughing matter.” I can practically hear Dani struggling to keep a straight face.

“So, the sex was that good, huh?”

“Yes, actually. But that’s beside the point.” I take a deep breath. “The point is… I guess I like the idea of officially being Chief and the guy’s old lady, of being part of the Wild Riders.”

“Sadie—”

“I know, I know you’re going to say that it’s too soon, that I hardly know them, that I don’t need to enter into some weird contractual relationship with four bikers, that we could just casually date, but I don’t think we can. The guys are different, hell, this whole relationship is different, unusual, what if the best solution to navigating it is to have a clear set of agreements from the start?”

Dani chews slowly, crunching as she thinks. “That actually kinda makes sense.”

“Dani! You’re supposed to be talking me out of this madness!”

She chuckles. “You just told me off for not supporting you and thinking it’s crazy. Look, I’m your best friend, I’ll support your decision, no matter what, and if you think this is the right call, despite how unusual or insane it may sound to some people, you should go with your gut. Trust your instincts. What are they telling you?”

I let out a long sigh. “They’re telling me to give this a try, all of it.”

The sound of rumbling motorcycles screeching into the lot makes me sit bolt upright. Moments later, I hear the doors opening and heavy footsteps coming upstairs.

“Dani, I gotta go. Talk soon.” I cut off the phone, barely registering her confused questions.

It’s late, far later than I should be up, but after the crazy hot sex with Chief that left me hungry for more and more than a little confused, there was no way I could sleep, especially since Trigger and Shadow still hadn’t returned.

They’re right by my door when I open it. Chief is there too, having heard them and come out of his room. His face falls when he sees me. The small knot of concern on his face tells me he wishes I hadn’t come up to hear whatever news the guys bring. Which, judging by their expressions, isn’t good.

“Kitchen,” Chief says softly, nodding his head toward it.

We all silently follow him into the other room, past the bedroom where Owen and Dash are still sleeping.

“What about Dash?” I ask, wondering if this has something to do with our arrangement. Has Chief told them what happened with us earlier?

“Let him sleep. We’ll catch him up with the news later,” he says.

The kitchen feels strangely claustrophobic despite being one of the largest rooms in the clubhouse.

The overhead lights cast a warm glow across worn wooden cabinets and polished countertops, while the smell of fresh coffee hangs heavily in the air. Under normal circumstances, it would feel comforting. Tonight, however, tension seems to cling to every surface. It sits in the silence between conversations, in the rigid set of Trigger’s shoulders, and in the dangerous calm radiating from Shadow as he stands beside the kitchen island with his arms folded across his chest. I have never seen either of them look like this before.

Trigger has always been intense. Anger comes naturally to him, burning hot and fast whenever somebody he cares about is threatened. Shadow is different. Shadow is controlled, quiet, thoughtful. Seeing him angry is infinitely more frightening. Neither of them has sat down since they arrived. Neither of them seems capable of standing still.

“What do you mean somebody broke into my house?” I ask, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears. The words don’t feel real. Nothing about this feels real.

Trigger drags a hand through his hair before turning away and pacing across the room again. “The alarm went off around midnight.”

I immediately look at Chief. The movement is instinctive. Chief doesn’t flinch, his face stubbornly set.

“You knew.” The words come out quieter than I intended, my voice hoarse.

His jaw tightens. “Sadie—”

“You knew.” This time, my voice is sharper. Anger cuts through the shock, giving me something solid to hold onto.

The expression on Chief’s face tells me he already knows exactly why I’m upset. “When the alert came through, we didn’t know what was happening yet,” he says carefully. “The priority was getting somebody there.”

I hold his gaze. “You could have told me.”

“It could have been a false alarm.”