She only stared back at him like he was an idiot, and not even a particularly insulting idiot. Just a straight-up dumbass. She didn't give an inch. It was like he really, truly didn't get to her-which he might have been tempted to believe, however astonishing and unusual that was, if he hadn't been able to see her pulse going wild in that hollow at the base of her neck. It told him that she wasn't as cool as she was pretending to be, but she was standing up to him anyway.
And the truth was, Chaser was hardwired to like that shit. To like it way more than he should. He wasn't a fan of attitude for attitude's sake in women. That was usually a whole lot of bravado and a calculated performance, and if there was going to be performing, he liked a stripper to show him a lot of skin, then shake her ass before she got down on her knees to suck him off. But a pretty little civilian thing who wasn't afraid of him when she should have been cowering beneath her desk? Well, fuck him. She was basically his catnip.
He kept that to himself for the moment. He had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate his hard-on as the gift it was.
"You can't have a problem with me," he pointed out gently. Gently for him, anyway. "I got a reputation that precedes me, I grant you, but not generally into high schools. So that leaves the club." He shook his head slowly. "I don't want to think that someone who's supposed to be teaching my kid is dumb enough to flash a grudge against the club around town. Much less in my face. It's just not smart."
"I don't know anything about your club," she retorted with a tight smile that went nowhere near her eyes. "Aside from any normal person's reasonable concern about a group of seemingly unemployed adult men who like to hang around aimlessly in a secret clubhouse when they're not prancing about in public wearing their little sew-on patches like Boy Scout merit badges."
And Chaser couldn't help the laugh that escaped him then. He couldn't even be as angry as he should have been-because that was straight-up crazy. Was she suicidal? Had she called him in here so he could break her fucking neck for her? Because there were nicer DKMC brothers than him. A lot of them. But there were also much more fucking depraved ones who'd backhand her through a window for a crack like that without a second thought.
Chaser didn't hit women. But this particular woman didn't know that, and the fact she'd risk it pissed him off as much as it intrigued him.
"You know where you are, right? This is Lagrange, Louisiana. This is a biker town, babe. A Devil's Keepers town, through and through. You new or just plain stupid?"
"I moved here a month ago, not that it's relevant."
"Oh, it's relevant," Chaser told her, his hands itching to do his talking for him, so they could get to the no talking, all action part and see if she was as mouthy with his cock between her lips. "Because if you're new, I don't have to take offense to the shit you just said. Which believe me, you don't want."
She laughed then. And he could tell it was a deliberate thing, not an expression of amusement. Who was this woman? There was having no particular fear of him-which was hot-and then there was asking for a serious problem with the club and poking at a brother like a lunatic. Which was significantly less so.
"I don't care if you're offended, Mr. Frey. My concern is the environment Kaylee lives in. The fact is, she's started acting out in ways that will affect her entire future if we don't find a way to nip it in the bud."
"Her future is fine. She's protected no matter what she does. Again, this is a club town, and she's part of the club. Better than that, she's mine." His voice was low and hard. "And I protect what's mine."
Lara scoffed, like he hadn't just ended the conversation with that little dose of reality. There was a part of him that almost admired it, it was so outside the normal way people treated him. Because most people realized he was death in steel-tipped boots and didn't encourage him to bring it on any faster.
But not Ms. Lara Ashburn.
"I've seen the future on offer for girls like Kaylee who drop out of high school because no one bothers to pay attention to them," she was saying, all fire and fury in that sleek, slender frame. "Is that what you want for her? If she's lucky, she hooks up with one of your brothers and gets to be an old lady, right? But what does that look like? Babies and club drama if things go well. The bitter knowledge her man could be sleeping with every other woman in town and her father will take his side over hers, no questions asked, no matter what, because that's the way a brotherhood works. That's if things go well. If they don't, he's in jail or dead and what's she supposed to do with a tenth-grade education and a bunch of kids to feed?"