Page 8 of Glacier

“Who the fuck are you two?” I tilted my head back—and back some more—to look into the piercing blue eyes of the other biker. He was a tall dude.

Waving my hand towards our truck, I said, “We’re from the feed store. I’m guessing my brother hasn’t been in touch.”

“Stay there,” the dark-haired biker barked as he put a phone to his ear. “Pres, we have a problem.”

Ignoring him, I rolled my eyes. So bloody dramatic. I leaned against the truck with a sigh. Fin joined me. We were both relaxed, knowing this could all be cleared up. We knew their reputation, but we’d worked with these bikers for a long time. Once they realised that we meant no harm, we’d unpack and be on our way.

The tall, blue-eyed biker watched us with an assessing gaze, and if I wasn’t mistaken, a hint of amusement. I wasn’t sure why.

In the distance, we heard the rumble of a bike, and my stomach quivered as it came closer. There was nothing quite like the roar of a bike. And man, what a bike it was.

As for the man… Well, I bit my lip. It had been a hot minute since I’d been with one of my hook-ups. And this man was fine. His thigh muscles bunched as he swung a leg over the back of his bike and stood. He removed his helmet and placed it on the seat, the light from the barn reflecting off his bald head.

It would seem bald men did it for me. Who knew? Well… this bald man did, anyway. I was dying to see his eyes, but they were covered with dark glasses. At night? Weird… but okay. I didn’t judge.

He stalked over to us, stopping right in front of me. Lifting his hand, he wrapped it around my neck, gripping it tightly, but not enough to cut off my air.

Heat flooded my core, and I bit the inside of my cheek to stifle a whimper, acutely aware of my son standing next to me. Lowering my eyes, I licked my lips and tried to ignore the quiver in my belly when he growled. “Who the fuck are you?”

CHAPTER 3

GLACIER

“Fucking hell,” I growled as I ended my call with Lawless.

I stormed out of the clubhouse towards my bike, too angry to worry about the brothers filing out behind me.

I noticed her as I rode towards the barn where we stored the guns before moving them on. The boy by her side didn’t even register—big mistake.

She was gorgeous. Not that her outfit could be considered sexy in any way; she wore jeans, boots, a tank top, and a flannel shirt, none of which masked her lush curves. She was tall, too. I could kiss her without getting a crick in my neck.

What the fuck? Since when was I derailed by a woman, especially one who could be dangerous to the club? I didn’t get led around by my dick. Ever.

Getting off my bike, I stalked towards them, ignoring everyone else.

“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded, wrapping my hand around her throat and pushing her against the side of the truck with enough force to get her attention but not to hurt her. I wasn’t sure who she was, but with everything going on and the ATF sniffing around, this was the last thing I needed. Admittedly, they’d arrived in the truck that usually brought our deliveries.

My mistake, however, was thinking they’d be terrified. That, and not paying attention to the boy at her side.

The familiar click of a gun cocking echoed in the night. I froze as the barrel of a gun pressed against my temple.

“Let go of my mom.” His voice hadn’t yet deepened to that of an adult man, but it also wasn’t the voice of a young boy. I couldn’t tell if he was stupid or just didn’t give a fuck about the consequences of holding a gun to the head of an MC President. It wouldn’t go over well in any club, let alone with the Kings of Anarchy. I had to admire the kid’s balls, though.

Slanting my eyes towards him, I noted the familiarity in their looks—from their deep brown eyes and olive skin to their dark hair and the freckles across their noses.

“You don’t want to do this, son,” I warned.

“You’re right, I don’t. So let my ma go, and we’ll unpack the truck and be on our way.”

“Just like that?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just like that,” he agreed, his eyes steady as they met mine.

I was a little stunned that this gorgeous woman was his mother; she didn’t look old enough. Now that I’d had a good look at the kid, I’d say he was in his late teens. If she was his mother, she must’ve had him young. So far, she hadn’t uttered a word, but I knew she was following everything I said as her eyes flicked to her son. There was no fear in those eyes, only pride.

I had to admit, I’d be pretty proud if he were my boy. Not many kids his age would have the balls to pull a gun on a biker, let alone the President of one of the most dangerous clubs.

From behind us, I heard the click of another gun.