Lana’s arms tightened around his waist as he took a wide corner and then blasted along the Vancouver-Blaine Highway toward the clubhouse, leaving Rex’s minions in the dust. He could not have imagined a more perfect day—fuel in the tank, sun in the sky, an endless stretch of road and Lana’s soft, sweet body pressed tight against his back, encased in the riding leathers he had brought for her protection just in case he failed to convince her to stay behind. Ride free, but ride safe.
For a moment he wished they could just drive until they ran out of road. Go back in time. What would have happened if he hadn’t walked out? He had nothing to show for the last two years. The assignment wasn’t over. The bad guys weren’t in jail. He had compromised his identity and his integrity. And he was tired. Dead tired. He needed a break. His career had been one case, one file, one assignment after the other and for every criminal he put away, two more took his place.
He turned onto the King George Highway and zigzagged through dirt trails until he came to the clubhouse. Claw, one of the new prospects, slid open the chain-link gate and James maneuvered the bike into a parking space and eased to a stop.
As they walked to the entrance, Lana’s steps slowed. Her hands clenched and unclenched. Her jaw tightened and she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the ground. He made one last attempt to discern the reason for her anxiety, but she remained uncharacteristically quiet.
He keyed the security code into the lock and pressed his thumb against the print sensor. The door swung open and he stepped to the side to let Lana through.
She didn’t move. Instead, she blanched and sucked in a sharp breath. Shadows swirled through her eyes, darkening them almost to black. A drop of blood welled up on her lip as her teeth sank through the tender flesh.
James frowned. “What’s wrong?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, drew in a few deep breaths and straightened her spine. “Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” His pulse raced and his muscles tensed, his body instinctively responding to the unseen threat.
“I’m good,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “No problem. I can do this.”
Warning bells clanged in his mind, but the minute his motorcycle had hit Hades’s turf the surveillance cameras would have picked them up. There was no turning back now.
He clasped her hand and stepped through the door. She clung to him like she was drowning and her tight grip sent his body into full alert.
“Babe…”
“Let’s go.” She gave him a tight smile. “We don’t want to be late.”
The barbeque was in full swing when they reached the outdoor patio. Bikers and their babes lounged, danced, drank and ate to the dirty guitars of Pat Savage’s “Born to Ride”. Punch flipped burgers on the grill. Dawg cracked open beers at the bar. Kickstand sucked shooters from Tally’s cleavage. Tally caught his eye and winked. The curvy, stacked brunette had become a permanent fixture in the clubhouse since she had hooked up with Dawg and with Angel rarely around, she was now the top old lady.
Heads turned when he walked into the melee, Lana plastered to his side. Her unease tugged at something deep inside him, and he put his arm around her and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I’m here, babe. Not going anywhere.”
“Yo, Ice! We’ve all been waiting to meet the old lady.” Dawg tossed him a beer and gave Lana a questioning look.
She rolled her eyes. “Got anything stronger?”
A grin split Dawg’s face and he pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “I like her already, Ice. She’s got balls.”
“Just what every man wants.” Portia’s snippy voice cut through the chatter.
“Who’s that?” Lana looked over at the tall, leggy blonde with interest.
“Hades’s mama. She…she’s there for the guys if they need…have needs.”
Lana cracked a smile, the first one since they’d left her apartment. “I see there’s still some of the old you in there. Most bikers wouldn’t have put it quite so delicately.”
James gave her a puzzled frown. How did she know what bikers would say?
They joined Dawg at the bar and the brothers trickled over to meet her. Although James had been concerned about maintaining the appearance of being a couple, they slid easily into the friendly banter they’d had when they first started going out. After an hour he’d almost forgotten it was just a ruse.
Almost. He continued to keep a watch out for Rex, and over by the clubhouse, Ryder did the same. He gave Ryder a nod and got a smirk in return.
Ryder was one of the few club members who rode clean, refusing to participate in any of Hades’s drug-related activities. A crack shot and a first-rate fighter, he’d always had James’s back and James returned the favor. When the club went down, he would pull every string to make sure Ryder wouldn’t be going to jail with them.