Protect & Serve(162)

“I… I’m looking for Hunter…” I murmured.

“Hunter, looks like yer girl’s here,” he groaned loudly, turning to face the rest of the room.

As he stepped aside, I realized that I’d happened upon a conference room. Old and splattered with the merriment of a beer glass too many, a thick wooden table filled the room. There had to be fifteen or twenty bikers were seated around it. More dangerous looking men were standing behind them in a row that wrapped the room, barely crowding into the private chamber.

Close to forty pairs of eyes directed their undivided attention to me. My breath caught in my throat as I spotted that same emblem on about half the men in the room… There was another club here… One that I didn’t recognize.

And I was staring right at their leader.

The man seated at the very center of the table was hardened and vicious-looking. His bushy black whiskers barely masked a distinctive lip twitch, and my eyes cast quickly downward onto the mystery emblem on his chest. Even from this distance I could read the word emblazoned beneath.

President.

The rest of the room focused between the two of us as he rose from his seat.

“Who the fuck is this?”

“That’s Hunter’s girl,” one of the other bikers laughed. “Apparently, she’s come to say hello.”

“Hunter, you say?” He turned his head further down the table and laughed. “Your new boy, Eduardo? What a surprise! I guess his pretty little bitch is loyal, eh?”

I followed his gaze.

Hunter was seated among his kind, his stoic face gazing towards me. Surrounded by bikers, he definitely looked like he fit in: he was just as big as anyone else around that table, with powerful arms and fresh tattoos visible from beneath his new set of club leathers.

With careful, thoughtful eyes, he offered me a definitively wry stare. He was clearly not happy to see me. I felt my spirits collapse somewhere in my chest.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Hunter told me loudly, addressing the rest of the club as much as myself. It was apparent that he was trying to distance himself from the interruption in front of the other bikers.

I felt a lithe hand on my shoulder, and turned slightly. The hostess had chosen this moment to peek into the room. “I’m so sorry, gentlemen, I’ll escort our guest to the front while you continue…”

“No need,” the mystery biker leader spoke, leaning forwards to flatten his palms across the table. “You’re very lucky that we’re done here, little girl…”

With that, he lifted a nearby gavel, giving a quick slam to the table.

“Boys, go get your dicks wet, yeah? Plenty of pussy in the building, after all…”

He turned to another older biker, seated at the table with them. I instantly recognized the President of the Devil’s Dragons, Eduardo. Practically my father’s nemesis, his lips curled into a grin as he turned to face me.

I counted myself lucky that Eduardo thought himself well above the local law enforcement. If he’d had any idea who I really was, I’d be in the shit right about now…

“Agreed,” he growled. “Dragons, dismissed.”

Regardless of emblem, the bikers hooted and hollered before moving out the room in cacophony. The hostess gave me one last little sour look before disappearing off with the pack, and the Presidents paused to glance at me for a moment.

Eduardo glanced down at me as he passed by, and then turned to Hunter. “Keep your little bitch out of here, boy.”

With that, he was gone.

The other club president, the one with the mystery patch, stifled a chuckle as he passed by as well. “Nice legs on this one, boy. Better for wrapping around your head, eh?”

With a surprised and indignant expression, I turned to face Hunter. He shifted in his seat, his stoic expression quickly replaced with veiled venom.

“No need to bristle, boy,” the President laughed. “I’m telling you, though… I can see trouble a mile away. This girl here? She’s trouble. Don’t let her interrupt us again, you understand?”

“Crystal clear,” Hunter growled.

I squared my jaw as the President gazed in my eyes for a moment, a slick smile crossing his lips.

Before I could muster up the courage to say anything, he was out the door, whistling his way towards the front of the strip club – eager to whet his appetite with whichever girl valued his wallet enough to meet his needs.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Hunter repeated furiously, rising from his chair and crossing the room. He snatched me by the wrist and dragged me nearby to a small champagne room.

“You can’t just rush into a club meeting like that! This shit is serious! Do you have any idea what these guys do to girls like you?”