“The fuck it is,” Edge growls. “This is toeing the line, and you know it, Tarak.”
“The lady asked us.” The man called F.O.C.U.S. replies. “Some of us think this war between us needs to end. We’d make better partners than rivals.”
“I don’t give two fucks. Get out.”
“Make me,” he growls, raising a fist. He steps forward. My breath catches. His eyes are the opposite of Edge’s. If Edge has the eyes of an angel, this man’s the fallen one. I could get lost in his gaze, just trying to figure out exactly what shade of black his irises are. They’re so dark they gleam. If that is even possible. His face was carved from the mountains, all hard planes, and angles. His bronze skin is drawn tight over his cheekbones. His lips are full for a man. They’re sexy and full and right now—baiting Edge with a sly smirk. “Bring it.” He opens his palms, turning them up and gestures with his hands for Edge to come at him.
“Whoa. Easy there…” A giant of a man with salt n’ pepper hair places a hand on the guy’s arm, making it lower. His cut says “Creed” on the back. What is going on? Three different MC’s are talking about their beef?
It is only then I notice another giant of a man with a full beard and dangerous eyes, point a gun at the man to Edge’s right. He points a gun straight back. It’s an old Western showdown, but there’s no horses or 45’s. Instead, it’s tatted cowboys riding chrome and wearing leather and I have a front-row seat.
“Let me at him, Rog. You know why.”
“Maybe later. I wanna drink. It was a long-ass ride.” I’m stunned when the handsome older biker turns his back on the lot of them. He must have balls of steel. He takes a seat right next to where my drink was and damn, I want to finish mine. I’m over being the mouse, hiding in the corner… going unnoticed. Squaring my shoulders, I push off the wall and try my best chicken-ass saunter, cutting right through them all. In my mind’s eye, I’m a seductress weaving her way through alpha men drooling over her ass… I almost sigh. From the corner of my eye, I sneak a peek at the tall man, Tarak. The harsh planes of his face could cut stone. His skin is divine. It’s tan but not from sun, from DNA. I shake my head. This is the Wild West with Chrome Cowboys and hot AF Native Americans. He steps closer, staring at Edge over my head. I feel the heat coming off his skin.
“I need a drink, too.”
The air is thick with tension. I cut right through it. But I wasn’t expected the sparks from my left and right. Edge’s eyes promise murder and the man, Tarak’s sparks with interest. But that can’t be right. Who would be interested in a brown, little mouse?
Finally, exhaling, I sit next to the ogre of a man, Rog or something and tip back my glass. The ice has melted, and the tequila goes down smoother. A smirk plays across his full lips. “Whatcha doin’ here, sugar? Got a death wish?”
“Nah. Death already came for me and left empty-handed.”
He lifts a brow and signals Viv. “Next rounds on me. What did ya’ beat? Cancer?”
“COVID-19.”
“No, shit? Good for you.”
“Thanks.”
“Rog? Are you done, making new friends cause still have an issue over here?”
“Boys,” the older, hot guy rolls his eyes.
“I know,” I wink, suddenly seeing the band of gold around his finger, which is too bad because this hot silver fox has presence in spades.
“Name’s Roger.”
“Amber.”
“Nice to meet ya, little lady. Hold my spot. I’ll be right back.”
Viv grimaces, twisting a rag in her hands. “Did you really invite Edge’s rivals?”
“Club business is always complicated.”
“I’ll bet. I did watch Son’s on FX.”
“I fucked up.”
“So? Fix it.”
She bites her lip. “I don’t know how. These boys’ tempers flare hotter than the desert in July.”
“So? Dump ice on it? Douse that shit.”
“Yeah, I doubt that will work.”
“Boys!” Viv stands on the bar, cupping her hands to her mouth. “Please! The nights on me. Free lap dances, extras, beer—I just can’t have the cops here again or file another insurance claim if my place gets trashed. If you can’t settle this now please go out back, okay?”
“Please, as if I’d even stay for free to see her strip.”
All eyes move to me since I’m the only woman left in the place besides Viv. Tarak’s gaze falls on me, roaming over my tank, undressing me. His lip curls as if he’s sucked a lemon.
My chin lifts. “You strip. I’d like to see you get up on that stage so we can all see if your dick’s as big as you pretend it is.”
“Burn!” Hoots and hollers erupt. There’s a proud glint in Edge’s eyes.
“You tell ‘em, mouse.”
The muscle in Tarak’s jaw moves. “I don’t take my dick out for sweetbutts. Especially, Bloody Scorpion sweetbutt whores.”
Anger seethes through me. I dump the bucket of beers on the floor, lift a glass long neck and bust it against a table—beer foams over broken glass. Marching up to him, I wield it like a weapon. “I’m no one’s whore. Got that? Get the fuck out. You obviously don’t belong here.”
Something flashes in his dark gaze, but it’s gone before I can decipher it. “I think you’re the one who’s lost, pale skin. Dead eyes.” His words cut to the bone. How can one look destroy a person? He’s a judging god as he sneers down at me.
Edge lunges forward. But his men hold him back.
“Ah, this brown mouse belongs to you? Shall I take your toy just because I can?”
“I’m no one’s toy!” I get ready to lift the jagged glass to his skin. What the fuck am I doing? Who am I?
“Easy now,” Roger steps in, taking the broken bottle from my shaking hands. He must see the crazy in me, how I’m about to snap. Being called a whore is a hot button of mine. My very first boyfriend my sophomore year, broke my trust when he told his friends how he popped my cherry. I was in high school hell after that. The joke was that me, the mouse, was a closet whore. Made no sense but then again high school bullying never does.
“Let’s go.” Rog gestures to his group.
“No.”
My eyes shift to the biker with the letter’s F.O.C.U.S. embroidered in his leather cut. “What’s that stand for?”
“My name.”
I shake my head. “You all are weird as fuck. I’m out.”
But I don’t get far. Edge grabs my elbow. “Not so fast, mouse.”
“Look. I’m over this bullying bullshit. I have real problems that don’t involve strippers and bikers, okay? I need to get my car towed and get to my job. Someone’s depending on me.”
“You already have a job lined up?”
“I do.”
“Doing what? Cataloguing library books?”
“Fuck off, Edge.”
I jerk my elbow back.
His eyes shift over my shoulders at the Royal Bastards then he leans down in my ear. “I can hook you up with a ride.”