Page 24 of Tick Tock, Boom!

“Oh, I can,” he snapped, hauling me down the stairs like I weighed nothing. “You know I’ve got the means. Don’t test me, Natalia. You think I won’t lock you up in a room until you forget your own damn name? Watch me.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not again.

Outside, his bike waited for us, like some armored transport just waiting to take me away. The sun glared off the chrome as the engine already rumbled. I glared at it like it had betrayed me, but when he handed me the helmet with that look, that deadly, don’t-you-dare-fight-me look, I reluctantly took it.

The ride was a blur. Wind whipping past us, the heat of the bayou rising off the cracked roads as we shot down into the trees. Spanish moss hung low, like rough fingers brushing my arms as we sped past. I hated how familiar it all felt. Hated how my skin buzzed with nerves.

By the time the gates of the clubhouse appeared, I wanted to throw up.

My Dad rolled us through without a word to the biker who stood on guard. His eyes narrowed on me as we rode past and I shivered.

The clubhouse loomed like a fortress. Worn brick, metal paneling, chain-link fencing topped with barbed wire. Bikes lined the gravel lot, each more customized and terrifying than the last. Men stood outside, smoking, laughing, loud and crude. Every one of them wore a cut.

Royal Bastards.

My Dad parked, dismounted, then looked at me. “Stick close. No one touches you, but don’t be stupid. Keep your mouth shut, and don’t wander.”

I nodded, keeping silent. Mostly because I was terrified.

As we walked in, the smell of beer, smoke, and sweat hit me like a wall. The place was buzzing, music playing low, the clink of pool balls in the back, the low murmur of voices hung in the air.

The moment I stepped inside, I felt eyes. Dozens of them.

They raked over me, undressing me and sizing me up. Like I was a fresh piece of meat thrown into a den of wolves.

My Dad didn’t flinch. Didn’t even glance at them. But I saw the way his hand stayed near his waist where his gun was hidden. He was at the ready and that unnerved me.

And then, like an angel sent to pull me from hell,sheappeared.

“Hey!”

A tall, gorgeous woman with a killer body, long dark waves, and sharp hazel eyes approached. She was dressed in ripped jeans and a tank top, her tattoos visible and stunning. But her smile was warm, motherly, almost disarming.

My Dad grunted. “Aiyana. This is my daughter.”

She blinked. "Well, shit."

Barrel nodded to me, then to the men. “She’s off-limits. Anyone even breathes wrong near her, I’ll rip your fuckin’ spine out and hang it on the wall.”

He meant it. Every single word. Then he looked at me. "This is Prez’s Old Lady. You do what she says."

Aiyana smirked and looped her arm through mine. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let me show you the ropes.”

She led me down a hallway and into a large kitchen, industrial style, with a double fridge, grill station, and deep sink. “This is your domain. You stay put and no one will bother you. Stay near me or Bulldog. You’ll be fine.”

“Bulldog?” I asked.

“My old man. The Prez. Mean as hell, but he worships the ground I walk on. And he’ll protect you too. Just don’t go wandering, and for the love of God, don’t flirt.These men?They smell fear and innocence, like blood in the water.”

I nodded, swallowing hard.

She softened. “You’re gonna be okay, honey. Just stick to me.”

She showed me where the dishes were, how to portion meals, what beer they liked cold. It felt like she was handing me armor, not instructions.

Everything seemed pretty easy, and I figured as long as she was with me, I'd be okay. But I can also tell she needed the help. As bright as she was, there was something quite not right. She'd stop and take a few breaths like talking hurt her, but she gave a tough face, and I had to respect er for that. All was going well until we walked back out to the bar. That’s when everything went sideways.

One of the newer guys, young, smug, with a blond mohawk and a silver lip ring, whistled low.

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