Page 5 of Aftershock's Fury

I walk through the back of the clubhouse and step into the bar, which is being cleaned and prepped for business. Patrons are only allowed on the second floor, where our private rooms are, if they’re invited. The back of the house, as we call it, is where the clubhouse, offices, and church are located. It’s private, and only patched members are allowed back there.

My boots thud across the wooden floor, and I glance over as a bear bait checks me out. I shake my head and keep walking. It’s been like this for years. They try to get my attention, but I don’t allow them in. There’s only one woman I want warming my bed.

I swing my leg over my bike and scan the area. The sky is bright but overcast. We’re gaining more daylight, but the Marchweather is holding on like winter did. Barely any snow, just rain, slick ice, and windy days. The gusts hit hurricane force, and we only had to make repairs on one job. That’s on the owners. They didn’t listen to our recommendations and thought they knew better. I slip my ball cap into a saddlebag and grab my helmet.

I take off, heading toward Wasilla and my place off Pittman Road, where it sits tucked near the Little Susitna River, far from civilization and deep in the sticks. It’s peaceful. Just how I like it.

The farther I get from town, the thinner traffic gets. I open up the throttle, leaning hard into the corners, fast and tight. When I finally pull down my long private driveway, I spot my father’s truck parked alongside the three-car garage.

I hit the remote, and the two-car bay opens. I roll in, parking next to my truck and my other bike. Out back in the shop, I’ve got my side-by-side and off-road machines.

Sliding off the seat, I hook my helmet over the handlebars and unzip my leather jacket. I know why he’s here and what he’s about to ask. I pull my ball cap from the saddlebag, twist it backward on my head, and let my longer hair spill out the sides in a mess.

“Well?” he asks as I approach him.

I want to groan. He’s just like me, worried about her and waiting for news.

“Kodiak heard from his people. They have her at a secure location. They’ll send her this way in a month or two.”

“A month or two?” His jaw tightens. “What if she’s found again? Do they know yet how she was found in the first place?”

“They’re looking into a few things.” I won’t break Kodiak’s trust by telling my dad what we suspect. “She’s safe with them. They’ve secured Anvil’s body.”

I slip off my cut and leather jacket, hang them on a hook in the garage, then follow him into the house.

Anvil and my father had been friends for years. They came to Alaska together, hoping to get away from the trouble they caused back in Oregon, where they grew up. They founded the Granite Peak Grizzlies with Loki’s father, Viking.

“I’m going to shower,” I say, heading across the hall to the primary suite.

Dad veers left, disappearing into the kitchen.

I sit on the bench just inside the bedroom door and remove my boots. My belt is next, tossed onto the bed along with my wallet and chain.

I yank my T-shirt over my head, and the long chain around my neck falls to my chest. There’s a dog tag attached to it with Harlowe’s name engraved deep into the metal. She gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday, said it would let other women know I was taken. Except for my time in the military, I’ve never taken it off.

By the time I reach the shower, bypassing the oversized oval tub, I’m ready for the jets to beat the tension out of my back.

As the warm water hits me, I wrap my hand around my cock. Every part of this house was built with Harlowe in mind. I can’t stop the need to get myself off now that I know she’s safe and will be here soon. I close my eyes and picture her firm breasts. Her hair down to her waist. Her hips flare slightly, giving her a heart-shaped ass.

I look down my body and can almost see her on her knees in front of me. Her beautiful light green eyes looking up at me as she takes me deep and swallows around the head.

I come hard, then wash myself off.

Twenty minutes later, I step out of my room barefoot and shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on my hips. My dad is sitting at the bar with a beer and a bowl of moose stew in front of him. I serve myself a bowl and grab a beer from the fridge.

“Kodiak called while you were in the shower. He told me what you two suspect. I agree. Anvil and I thought the same thing back then. Only the voting members knew Charisma and Clarice were heading to Anchorage that day. They were supposed to take Harley with them, but she wanted to stay and hang out with you and Kodiak.”

That day rolls through my mind. I’d already decided I was going to put distance between us. That’s when Kodiak found out how much I cared for her. She’d been talking on the phone with a friend about going to the Palmer pool that weekend, and I barked that she didn’t need to parade around in a swimsuit. Her feelings were hurt, and Kodiak punched me so hard I was knocked unconscious.

I came to with him hugging her, telling her I was an asshole and to ignore me. I rolled to my feet and told them I had to get out of there.

I wasn’t there when they told her Charisma died because I was an asshole. I got to say goodbye to her, and she clung to me, whispering she’d be back. But we both knew it was a lie. She couldn’t return.

The only reason we’re letting her come back now is because the WOA protecting her convinced Kodiak it’s time to face the past and kill the people after her. She’s trained, and they are confident she’ll be safe.

I don’t know what Aaronov wants with her, but I’ll kill him if he touches a hair on her head. It’s taken everything in me not to drive the forty minutes to his house in Anchorage and reap my vengeance for all the pain he’s caused her. But the WOA and Kodiak want Aaronov to believe she’s either dead or disappeared again. They don’t want him catching wind that she’s coming back.

CHAPTER

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