I leaned in, keeping my voice low. “What are you doin’ here?”
“Drinking,” she said, lifting her glass like it was all the answer I needed. But her eyes told a different story, curious yet cautious, like she was interested but wasn’t sure if she should be.
Before I could push for more, the door to the bar swung open, slamming against the wall. Two men stepped inside, the bar lights glinting off their leather jackets.
They were trouble, sure as shit. My shoulders tensed, my body leaning instinctively toward them.
Lucy noticed, too. Her gaze flicked to the men, and for the first time, I saw something crack through her calm exterior. It wasn’t just fear. It was something rawer, something deeper—survival instinct.
Her hand tightened around her glass, knuckles white. Then she slid off her stool, moving with the kind of practiced grace that came from knowing how to disappear.
“I’ll see you around, Spinner,” she said, her voice tight.
“Wait—” I reached for her arm, but she was already moving.
Lucy disappeared into the shadows at the back of the bar, leaving me with more questions than answers.
Again.
The two men lingered by the door, their grins slick with trouble and brimming with hostility. They didn’t make a move, just watched, their eyes sweeping over me and my brothers like they were sizing us up for something.
I didn’t have time to worry about Lucy. Not now, with those fuckers here. But as I turned back to Thunder and Chain, I couldn’t shake the feeling that her running out of here was no coincidence.
And that whatever storm she was running from was about to pull me in.
I’D NEVER ADMITit out loud, but my heart sped up the second I saw him.
Spinner walked into the bar like he owned the place, broad shoulders relaxed, confidence pouring off him like he didn’t have a care in the world. The bar lights caught on the patches of his leather cut, the kind that told anyone with half a brain he wasn’t just any man, he was to be feared.
Dangerous.
The kind of dangerous that should’ve sent me packing.
But I stayed.
Hell, that’s why I was here in the first place. I’d been parked on this same damn stool every night for a week, nursing watered-down drinks and pretending I had nowhere better to be.
I did.
Spinner was why I kept coming back, though I couldn’t explain why. I wasn’t the type to perch on the edge of my seat, batting my lashes and hoping a man would show up like a damn romance novel heroine.
Yet here I was, parked like a damn fool, waiting.
I’d met him at this very bar, while doing some research. And damn, when he walked in, he had my full attention. The way he moved, the way his eyes cut through the room like they were searching for me, it made me feel seen, even when I wanted to disappear.
And I sure as hell had his attention too. That first night, he owned the room, swaggered right up to me like he already knew how this was gonna go. We talked, really connected, it felt easy, natural. But every time, something in the shadows stirred, setting my instincts screaming, and I’d bolt.
Spinner probably thought I was weird as hell.
I needed to let this go. I didn’t get serious about men. I didn’t do trust. There was no room in my life for distractions. Not when the ghosts of what I’d seen turned trust into a currency I’d long since gone broke on.
But again, here I was.
And then there he was.
When his dark eyes fixed on me across the room, that slow, sexy swagger of his pulling him closer, I felt it. That stupid flutter in my chest. The heat rising under my skin like he could set me on fire with just one look.
God, I hated that.