Page 108 of The Price of Love

Storm and Dimples ride with me from my apartment to Saratoga, but I ride the last stretch to the club on my own. I’m extra aware of my surroundings, taking everything in, in case this is my last time.

Why am I being so pessimistic? Wiz is reasonable, but she also hates the Thorns, and I’ve never seen her so angry. Still part of me clings to hope. I must. After everything Margot’s done to me—taken from me—hope’s the only thing that gets me out of bed every morning.

While the club kept me from drowning when I hit rock bottom, Storm has lifted me higher. Brought something to my life that I’d not thought possible. I’ve always been a shadow at the club, keeping my head down—hiding—but Storm makes me want to step from the shadows.

With Storm, I’m not a shadow. I have a voice. She listens and wants to hear what I have to say. How is it the president of the Iron Thorns has opened places in me I thought were dead?

I chuckle to myself. There’s another part of my body that’s been dead for too long. What if Storm never gets the opportunity to open it? The thought is like a punch to the gut. For the last several years, I’ve had no interest in sex. Since riding with the Graces, I’ve had plenty of women express their interest, but none sparked my desire. I assumed Margot had ruined all of that for me.

So why Storm? Why now? Happenstance? Appearing at the time I was ready? Perhaps anyone could have opened me because I’d healed and was ready.

Right? I know it’s not true. It’s Storm. I knew it the first time I met her. Fate is cruel. Of the two hundred bikers attending the poker run, I had to fall for a Thorn.

I pull into the Steel Graces’ driveway and ride slowly to the back. This place used to be my lighthouse in choppy waters. Tonight, it feels cold and unforgiving.

Just like Wiz. Controlled and tidy. But life is messy, no matter how much you try to control it. Did the control once feel safe, or was it just familiar?

It’s Friday night, so the lot is pretty full. With many Graces having family commitments on Saturdays, Friday is the busiest day. Just my luck.

I pull my bike into an empty spot and cut the engine. I chuckle. Wiz should be happy that I rode my bike.

When I dismount, I can’t help thinking it’s even busier than usual. Of course it is. Who doesn’t want to watch a train wreck? While only officers attend the tribunal, protocol dictates that the members be informed of the meeting. The curiosity seekers are out in droves tonight.

I put my helmet on my bike and do my best casual stroll across the parking lot, knowing they’ll be watching me on the monitors from inside.

As soon as I enter, a strong hand grabs me from behind and pulls me toward the utility closet.

What the hell? Are they jumping me? The Graces aren’t some rogue club. They don’t physically discipline their members.

I struggle to loosen the grasp of whoever has a grip on me. I swing my elbow back and connect with something solid.

“Umph. Christ, Shadow.” I recognize Edge’s voice. “Don’t do that again.”

I stop squirming, and she releases me.

“What the hell did you do that for?” I ask.

“I couldn’t meet you in the parking lot.” She points toward a camera pointing down the hall into the club. “Too many eyes. This is a blind spot.”

I narrow my eyes. “Are you supposed to be talking to me?”

“No, that’s why we haveta talk quick.”

“Why the hell didn’t you just call me?” I’ve always trusted Edge, but this seems weird.

“Strict orders not to.”

I grin. “But you weren’t ordered not to accost me when I walked in?”

“Exactly.”

“So you’re not disobeying a direct order.”

“Right again.” Her smile fades. “What the hell are you doing? You could lose your patch. Wiz is fucking pissed.”

“I know.”

“How will you defend yourself?”