“You met one of them,” I whispered, swallowing. “You slashed his tires.”
His eyes flashed with a promise of violence.
“But Theo has never done more than what you saw the other night.”
He waited, his gaze intensifying.
“I grew up in the foster system,” I finally admitted.
He stared at me. He wanted more.
“One of the…” I hesitated, looking down at my hands uncomfortably. “One of the families I was sent to was the enforcer to a motorcycle club and his wife. Honestly, I’m not sure how they were able to foster us, but whatever. There were three of us,” I twisted and fiddled with one of the cheap rings on my finger.
“Me and two seventeen-year-old boys lived there with Carl and his wife, Sandra,” I continued shakily, my eyes still trained on my hands. “I was only sixteen, and well…they didn’t treat me like a daughter. Why would they? Bikers treat women like property, and in his mind, I was his property. At first, I was too scared to do anything, but eventually, I got the courage to run away. I came here to Seattle, and I’ve been here ever since.”
I had absolutely no idea why I was telling him any of this. For all I knew, he was best friends with my foster father, but I couldn’t see it. Something about Rex drew me in and made me trust him. It was frightening. I had never seen any proof that my foster father’s views on women were abnormal to bikers. In fact, every biker I had run into at the diner treated women like they were toys or things. Every biker until Rex and his friends.
Rex moved one of his hands from the wall. He grabbed my chin between his thumb and index finger, gently pulling my head up to look at him. He traced my lips with his thumb, his eyes capturing mine and drawing me in. The whole world fell away as the intensity in his eyes seared through my veins and lit me on fire.
“I will find that man and kill him with my bare hands, and if anyone ever touches you again, I’ll do more than slash their tires,” he whispered fiercely.
“You slashed his tires because he touched me?” I asked. Part of me had wondered about that, but it went against everything I knew for a patched member of a motorcycle club to defend a woman.
“Yes,” Rex answered, moving his thumb up my cheek then back down to trace my lips.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. His voice was husky, and his eyes were darkening with desire.
Reaching up, I placed my hand on his. I licked my lips, drawing his gaze to them. With a growl, his hand slid to the back of my head as his lips captured mine. His other hand came down and grasped my waist, pulling me against his hard body.
I melted into him, my hands tangling in his hair. He nipped my bottom lip, making me gasp. He deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into my mouth and exploring with hot, wet intensity. The hand at my waist moved to my back before sliding down to grab my ass and pull me even closer into his hardness.
Someone in the library dropped a book, and the sound of the crash brought us back to earth. Panting, Rex pulled his lips away from mine and released me, but his hands still rested on either side of my head.
I closed my eyes, desperately trying to get my bearings.
“I’m sorry,” Rex whispered, resting his forehead on mine.
“Don’t,” I panted, my eyes shooting open to glare at him. “Don’t ever apologize for a kiss like that.”
He smirked and trailed the back of his knuckles down my cheek.
“Fahrenheit 451,” he said, stepping back and bending over to grab something off the floor.
“What?” I asked, bewildered.
“My favorite book,” he answered, straightening and pushing something into my hand.
I gaped at him. Leaning down, he gently brushed his lips against mine.
“We’ll pick this up later,” he whispered before turning and walking away.
I stared at his retreating form, absently reading the word nomad on the back of his leather biker jacket. Blinking, I came back to earth with a thud. Rex was not all he seemed to be. Looking down, I wrapped my hand around the two pens he had pushed into my hands and wondered if I would ever get over the shock of seeing a patched club member be the opposite of every other biker I had ever met.
Five
Rex
My phone rang as soon as I stepped out of the library. We were supposed to be meeting one of Vlad’s personal contacts today before our gig tonight. The contact would tell us more about the stolen auto parts we were in Seattle to get.
Jogging down the steps, I fished the phone out of my pocket, grateful for the distraction. I glanced down at a text message from Chase, which let me know that our contact was ready to meet and where the meeting was supposed to take place. It was taking every ounce of self-control I had not to turn around and fuck Emma right where she stood. The only thing stopping me was the fact that if we got caught, that would not be keeping a low profile, and then Ryder would kill me. Emma also deserved more than a quick fuck in the back corner of a library.
Cold rage filled me as I thought about what she had told me. I read the directions Chase had sent me again and mounted my bike. I needed to distract myself, and the meeting was the perfect way to do it. It didn’t take long for me to get to the meeting place. I pulled up outside an old building that looked like it had been abandoned for decades. Chase was waiting for me on the front steps. He beckoned for me to follow him and led me around back and down some stairs.
“Coyote and Mack are already inside with the contact,” Chase said. “You okay?
I nodded. He was squinting at me, frowning.
“You look like someone punched your puppy in the face,” Chase remarked.
“I don’t have a puppy,” I snapped.
“It’s a saying.”
“I’ve never heard a single person say that. Ever.”
Chase shrugged and let the matter drop. I knew it wasn’t the end of it, though. Chase, Coyote, Mack, and I looked out for each other. If they thought I was mad, they would demand to know whose ass we were going to kick. Sighing, I focused on the task at hand. There would be plenty of time to worry about Emma later.
“Rex, Chase, over here,” Coyote called out to us as we stepped into a dank and moldy basement.
“This is Vlad’s contact, Martin. He actually works at the Rainy Day Diner,” Mack said, immediately getting my attention. I wondered if he was one of the assholes in Emma’s life.
“You were the one that slashed Theo’s tires,” Martin said, nodding to me. “That bastard had it coming for giving Emma such a hard time.”
That answered my question. Martin was one of the few people in Emma’s life that looked out for her. I warmed to him a little more.
“So, whose parts are we moving?” I asked.
“The owner of the restaurant, Hank,” Martin said with a bark of laughter.
“How does the owner of a diner have stolen auto parts?” I asked, frowning.
“He owns an auto shop with his brother, Theo,” Martin answered.
“Theo is his brother?” Coyote asked, surprised.
Martin nodded. “Theo is the one who usually gets the stolen parts. His contacts through Las Balas helped, and the club offered Hank a certain level of protection. But when the club lost it’s president several months back, they lost the ability to enforce outside their territory.”