Page 12 of Emmy's Ride

I felt Emmy stiffen at my side, her spine going ramrod straight.

My gaze snapped to Tank. “She’s got my protection. I don’t give a damn if your panties are in a bunch. Her apartment was trashed. One of our brother’s family is in danger. We protect our own.”

Silence spread, thick and heavy. Tank held my gaze before exhaling noisily and rubbing the back of his neck. “Your call, brother,” he muttered. “But this is gonna be a distraction.”

My jaw tightened. “Then it’s one I’ll handle.”

My men weren’t used to questioning me. But this? This was uncharted territory.

Bringing Emmy back in—even temporarily—was like setting a match to gasoline.

There was no other option, though. Someone had turned her apartment upside down. She was being targeted. And whether she liked it or not, she was now tied up in whatever the hell storm was coming for the club.

My responsibility. Mine to protect. Even if it meant throwing the whole damn club into chaos.

One of the younger guys—Trigger—let out a low chuckle. “Bringing in old flames now?”

The tension in the room crackled, every set of eyes fixed on her like she was a threat they hadn’t decided how to handle yet.A few whispers rippled through the room, and someone at the back shifted in his seat, eyes narrowed in quiet judgment.

Emmy didn’t flinch, but I saw the way her shoulders tensed under the weight of their scrutiny. The way her jaw clenched like she was holding something back. She wasn’t the same woman who used to walk through these doors like she owned the damn place.

Then one of the older members—Brick, mean as ever and twice as bitter—snorted and tipped his beer back. “Guess some girls don’t know when they’ve worn out their welcome.”

Silence dropped like a hammer.

I took a step forward, ready to put Brick through the fucking wall, but the tension hanging in the air and the wary stares of my men stopped me. They weren’t convinced she belonged here anymore… and they were right. She didn’t belong here. Not really, but I sure as hell wasn’t letting her go. And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Emmy must have also felt their bitterness because, without another word, she turned and stormed straight out the door.

I swore under my breath before I followed. She was waiting for me, pacing near the row of bikes. As soon as I stepped outside, she whirled to face me.

“Are you kidding me?” she snapped. “This is where you want me to stay? Nobody wants me here.”

I let the door swing shut behind me. “What do you expect? You left this life in the dust.”

“They think I’m a damn liability.”

“Because you are.”

Her nostrils flared. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re reckless,” I countered, stepping closer. “And stubborn as hell. You think I’m gonna let you leave? Forget it. If I have to handcuff you, and not like we used to fuck, I’ll do it.”

She glared up at me, breath coming fast, cheeks flushed from anger—or maybe something else entirely. Maybe she was remembering those times too.

I could see it in her eyes—that same battle she always fought. The one between wanting me and knowing she shouldn’t.

It was the same war raging inside me.

My hand flexed at my side, itching to touch her, to remind her exactly what she’d walked away from.

She was breathing fast, her chest rising and falling. I wasn’t any better. My pulse pounded in my ears, my blood running hot with the pull of her.

My gaze dropped to her lips. Soft. Full. Made for sin. Tasted like heaven. She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

For a second, the world narrowed to just the two of us. The past. The what-ifs. The goddamn need sparking between us like a live wire. Then she stepped back, fast. Like she’d caught herself too close to the edge of a cliff and realized she might actually fall.

Her voice was quieter this time, but the words still had a bite. “I don’t belong here, Austin.”

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