Riding Him(3)

I hear her phone vibrate, and she pulls her eyes from mine and looks down at it. “Let’s go.” She jumps up from her chair, seeming just as eager as I am.

I abandon my beer and follow her out of the bar, hopping into my truck. Like Cas, it’s hard to ride a chopper with some of the gear we carry around, and we’ve been training all day and my cab is full of all kinds of shit.

I follow her down the road for about a mile until we reach club property. It’s nothing like you’d normally think, with unkempt land and chain-link fences. They handle this place with care. You can see it. This is their home, and they take pride in it.

The front of the property has a brick privacy fence, and it makes you wonder what’s behind it. Cas pulls up to the gate, enters her code, and waves me to go around her as the double iron gate swings open. I pass through, making sure it doesn’t close on me.

I drive through a tree-lined driveway that’s about a half a mile long to the clubhouse, an old farm that’s been converted for the Ghost Riders.

I know the property used to belong to the Pres’s father before he passed, then Pres took it over. I’ve spent hours out here on the land with Cas training me. The whole property is littered with buildings. Some of them are used for businesses, one of which Cas owns herself. A gun range a little off to the east of the property that has a public entrance.

I pull up to the main house, which is huge. A few bikes are parked out front, and I recognize one right away. Scribe. I didn’t even see him leave. I thought he was still in the back of the bar.

I pull myself from the truck as Cas pulls up next to me. I follow her in and see only Scribe and Savage sitting in the main area where everyone normally hangs. Savage is sitting on one of the sofas looking every bit of his name, taking up most of the thing with his massive bulk. He has a hard look on his face like he doesn’t really want to be here. Scribe is sitting in one of the stools at the old wooden bar with his computer open next to him.

His eyes come straight to me when he hears us enter. Then he shakes his head. I don’t know how the fuck he beat us here. I figured he’d still be in the back of the bar with the blonde. I inwardly smirk that his time got cut short because of the meeting being called.

“Don’t start,” Cas barks, a slash of heat behind her words. I guess she knows too that Scribe doesn’t like the idea of my being around.

“She’s not ready.” His eyes run over me. I never seem to get the funny, flirty Scribe everyone talks about. I only ever get distaste. We all know why we’re here. I know they’ve been talking about me coming into the Ghost Riders, and today is the day I find out if I’m in. If I get a shot.

I try not to flinch at his words, keeping my face impassive. I don’t want him thinking he bothers me one bit. He’s just like the boys on the playground when you’re a kid. If they know they get to you, they’ll keep doing it. You just have to ignore them. Or punch them in the face. That trick worked, too. I have a feeling I’ll be doing that one soon.

“You questioning my judgment?” I hear Cas say from behind me as I make my way towards Scribe. His eyes stay on me, giving me a look I can’t quite make out. Good, you should keep looking at me, because I’m the one coming for you.

“She’s going to get herself hurt. Maybe even killed.” His eyes shoot over my shoulder at Cas, then back to me as my feet eat up the distance between us.

“We aren’t going to let anyone near her. She’ll be miles out from danger.” Cas is standing hard behind my being here.

“Doesn’t matter,” I say, sliding up next to him, taking the stool next to his and turning to face him. His musky sweet scent hits me, and I didn’t know a man could smell like both at the same time, but he does. “I don’t need to be miles away. I can handle myself right here,” I tell him, looking him dead in the eyes. “You don’t know me.” My words are flat, brooking no argument. It’s nice to be farther away from your target, but I learned at a younger age that isn’t always the case. Sometimes you have to be close. Sometimes life just gives you the option and you have to learn how to protect yourself in that moment, and I have.

“I know a lot more than you think.” He glances at his computer, then back at me. “In fact, I feel like I know almost everything.” A small smirk plays at his lips, and I wonder if that’s a trace of the flirting I’ve heard so much about. Does he think I’ll turn into some blushing girl in front of him and bat my eyelashes? Not happening. Not for him. Never for a man who doesn’t think I belong. I may not know shit about men in this area, but I know how the men in my life treat their women, and I want that.