Page 16 of Sweet Revenge for the Bikers

“I hope you parted on good terms,” Emily says wryly. “Because I have a feeling I should make more coffee.”

It only takes a couple minutes before there’s a knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Hero says, pushing out his chair and getting up. He opens up and then there are voices in the front hall.

Familiar voices greet him from the other room. Instant goosebumps.

“Yeah, she’s in here.”

I stand up, not quite knowing what to do with myself. I want to run over and see if they’re just as nice as I remember. I also want to slide under the table and hide.

Mad Dog is the first in the kitchen. “Fuck man, she really is here. Did you miss us that much?” His expression clouds over when he sees how scraped up I am. “What the hell happened?”

“Hi.” I wave awkwardly.

“Why didn’t you stay put where we told you?” Rebel doesn’t look amused.

Riptide is right behind him. His grin fades when he sees me, and there’s murder in his eyes. “Fuck, babe, who hurt you?”

The weight of all five of them watching me, like they actually care and want to help, is enough to make my eyes start to burn. I take a deep breath, willing away tears. “I wish I could tell you. It was dark and they hit me from behind. I think I heard voices, but…” I shrug.

Hero leans back in his chair with a frown. “I think we should go see if King or Eagle-eye is around. If someone has a vendetta against us and they saw her with you…”

“Then they might’ve targeted her to hurt us,” Mad Dog fills in.

I blink. “Who are King and Eagle-eye?”

“Eagle-eye’s club president,” Rebel supplies. “King’s our VP. I think they’ll want to hear your story as much as we do, and it’s better not to tell it twice.”

The idea of standing up in front of the Screaming Eagles president is terrifying enough, never mind while I’m trying to figure out what I can say that doesn’t betray Dad, but what choice do I have? “You guys’ll be with me, right?”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep us away,” Rebel says. He ghosts a touch over where I know there’s a bruise forming on the side of my neck.

“Eagle-eye’s tough, but you don’t have to look like you’re going to your funeral. He’s smart and fair, too. He’s also sort of my stepfather.” Emily laughs. “And King’s the other man you see in the photos around here. I’m his old lady.”

“But you have…” This place is confusing me more and more. It’s totally not what I expected an MC to be like.

She raises an eyebrow and looks at Rebel, Mad Dog, and Riptide before focusing back on me. “Do I really have to explain how it works?”

Wild Child laughs. “Get her over there before her head explodes.”

Their setup is even more impressive in daylight. The warehouse looms like a giant that rules over the whole neighborhood. A huge garage stretches out next to it, the doors wide open to reveal a motorcycle workshop big enough for a small army to use. The club buildings are built on an industrial scale.

There are motorcycles everywhere. So many. And bikers, of course. Some of them are wearing shirts or jackets, but most are shirtless, enjoying the hot weather, hanging out on the slices of lawn or working on their bikes in the garage. There are quite a few houses, too, and Emily’s place isn’t the only one with signs of kids.

But over everything are signs that they’re prepared for danger. There are stations mounted to the tops of several buildings that look straight out of a military base, and even though the outer wall is solid and topped with barbed wire, it shows signs of major repair in several places. I try not to gawk, but it’s hard.

The guys lead me up metal stairs and through the front doors of the warehouse. There’s a short hallway, and then it opens into what used to be the main warehouse floor, but has been turned into a massive, open-plan room. There’s a full bar and a lot of hangout space. There are also pool tables, a big-screen TV, and just about everything else you might want. The walls are black, but there’s a giant Screaming Eagles logo flanked by American flags painted on the far end.

The other end of the room has a massive table big enough for a medieval banquet, and a door into what I think might be a kitchen based on what I can see through the glass. Beyond even that, on the far wall is a set of stairs up to a platform where there’s a door into a room with windows looking down over the whole space.

“That’s Eagle-eye’s office.” Riptide explains. “You ready?”

I draw a fortifying breath. “Not really, but do I have a choice?”

Mad Dog cups my face in his hands, careful not to put pressure on my bruises. He leans in and kisses me. I freeze for a second, before melting into it. His lips are warm, and the kiss is slow and comforting. It’s not asking for anything. It’s offering. “Ready now?” he asks when he breaks the kiss.

“You gonna knock or stand out there all day?” snaps a growly voice from inside.