Page 8 of Smoke

She doesn’t. Still the curl of her lips, devilishness in her eyes and slight tilt of her head as she taunts me, makes me realize this woman is a force to be reckoned with.

Time is a ticking. I want this done.

“Tell me again, from the beginning, only this time, don’t skip anything. I want the whole story from the start, to where you thought it was a good idea to trespass on Young Outlaw property.”

Tenley

After I letmy subtle grin bloom into a full on, teeth-flashing, dazzling smile at Smoke only winds himup even further, something that I’m taking great pleasure in, I scope the room one more time.

I know who every single one of these guys are, and what led them to the Young Outlaws, whether it be through blood or deficient back story. Each one of them has their own past demons. Some, I don’t doubt, still riding on their backs.

The druggy, the killer, the wrongly accused. The beaten, the crazy, the violent. Every single one a victim in one way or another.

Fiercely loyal and protective of the club and its family. With an unbreakable devotion to their president, Smoke.

I should fear them, and I do, but I’m determined not to let it show.

So, I straighten up, lift my chin and paint on a smile. Time to put on my sassy, no fucks given, exterior and hope it doesn’t give away that my insides are quaking like a summer storm and my heart is galloping like a thoroughbred stallion.

I’m not stupid. I’ve done many hours of research on the subject of the MC to know they could easily make me disappear in a blink of an eye, leaving no evidence of me ever being here. My only hope is that, despite only being here a short time, they respect Oriana as my half-sister enough to think twice about it. Rumor has it that they also don’t target women, at least not unless they are troublesome.

Damn! Trouble is my middle name.

It was the research on the club that led me to Paddy Dunne and the Death Valley Irish.

So, I reside myself to the fact I’m going to be grilled for the next hour or so, and be interrupted multiple times with the idiotic and irrelevant questions from a bunch of dumbass bikers.

Guess it’s time to start at the beginning and what led me to here in this crazy situation, albeit partly being my own doing.

Chapter

Six

Tenley

Smoke has already had the bullet points of what has led me here, but reciting it to this lot is a different matter. All eyes are on me, and I’m sure if I stuck my tongue out, I could taste the secreted disdain from every one of them that lingers in the air.

“So, what you waiting for?” Smoke breaks the silence with his deep, commanding voice.

I suck in a deep lung full of air through my nose, ready for the inevitable backlash of questions and accusations that are heading my way.

“If you don’t already know, I’m a reporter for the Reno City Journal. It all started about three months ago when a story I’d been working my kahunas over got knocked back by the editor in chief…

“It’s not like I don’t know what I’m doing, Chief. I’ve even won awards for my work.” I grumble at the boss I’ve had for the past year I’ve been working here at the R.C.J.

“Being recognized for your work in small town literary awards is hardly winning the Pulitzer Prize for investigative reporting, now is it?” Bill reasons. “Your work is good, I can’t deny that, but a piece about what can only be put down as a rumor of the possible corruption within the Reno police department ain’t going to cut it.”

“You’re telling me you don’t believe what is going on within the system?”

“Whether I believe it or not is irrelevant.” He throws up his hand in frustration. “You’re asking me to put an article on the front page with no actual substantial proof to back it up. If we do that, we would be dragged into the courthouse quicker than a New York Minute. Not only that, but it’s also not a powerful enough story, not when half the city suspects it, anyway.”

“This is BS.” I jump up out of the seat opposite Bill. His office is only small, and the door is always open metaphorically and actually, so I should have known that I was only going to be left disappointed with what he had to say when he’d firmly shut it behind us. “Tell me, what do I have to do to get front page because this is frustrating the shit out of me?”

The reason I’d moved back to Reno and taken the job with a higher profile newspaper than I had worked with in the past was in the hope I could finally fulfill my dream of having a front-page article. In turn, showing exactly what I’m capable of and possibly get me the recognition I needed from the top U.S. newspapers.

End goal.

One of the blue-chip tabloids, the New York Times, The Washington Post or maybe even USA today. I want to play with the big boys.

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