Page 51 of Target

“Well, I think I need to learn to deal with this biker first.” I giggle.

Her face takes on a serious look and I know she wants to give me some words of wisdom. She knows me well enough to know what I am like when it comes to men. Maybe I need this push.

"Listen, you deserve someone who makes you feel cherished and safe,” she says, her voice steady and full of concern. “Don’t let the past sit on your beautiful soul; fix that burnt bit. If he’s good for you, then give it a chance, but keep your eyes open and your heart guarded until you’re sure."

I nod, absorbing her advice. Darain always knew how to balance her fierce loyalty with honesty, and her words were exactly what I needed to hear. Perhaps this could be the start of something real, something different. Only time will tell, but for now, I let myself hope.

“Okay, I will try,” I say. “Opening myself to him will be a good move, right?”

“Yes. Do it. Besides, if he hurts you, I will come for him. No member of the Rugged Skulls MC will find him. You know I know people.” Adding a wink, she walks back to her table and digs back into her lunch.

We finish up eating and get back to work planning out the new contracts that we have. A baby shower, how exciting. There is also a sixtieth birthday party to help plan, for an amazing woman, from what her family has told us.

Plus a very cute and modern sixteenth birthday, one that Darian is looking forward to planning as the birthday girl loves everything girly and glittery. So she has that contract, and I will deal with the baby shower and we will both work on the sixtieth birthday party.

I love my job and that I get to do it with my best friend, my sister in all things in the world. It makes every anxiety-filled hour of planning, and saving, worth it. We worked our butts off for this company— it is our baby.

We live for this, no matter the stress. If something fails or gets mixed up, we jump in head first and get it sorted out for the client.

“Okay, chickpea, I am out of here. I have a venue to look at and take photos of for the client. Do you need me to bring anything back for you?” Hooking her ginormous purse over her shoulder, she collects her car keys, phone, and folder, before looking at me.

“No, I think I am good, thanks though.”

She says her goodbyes and I get back to work. The day passes with ease and I get so much done, but Kohen slips into my mind from time to time, making me smile every time.

I picture his smile, which makes my heart flutter. His winking makes me blush, but his touch makes me ignite.

It seems that he has gotten under my skin and has sunk his hooks in. I just hope that I do not regret moving forward with him.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

TARGET

Riding along with brothers at my side, I feel the familiar hum of our motorcycles beneath us as we cruise around, searching for new crew members and the MC they've tangled themselves with.

The prospect is with us, his eyes sharp and vigilant, scanning for any familiar faces or signs that might give us an edge. He knows his job, and he's doing it well.

The sun is setting, and the roar of our engines echoes around the buildings as we search. Each of us is ready to deal with these fucks, to see what they want with our territory. We may not be a one percent club but fuck me, we do own Phoenix.

And we will protect it and its people.

We ride in formation, we ride with a purpose.

The prospect rides a little behind, still earning his patches, his commitment tested with every mile. I know he is internally dealing with shit linked to why we are riding, so hopefully we can sort it out and he can find some sort of peace and move on, earn his patch and find an Ol’ Lady.

Like I found mine, I just have not yet claimed her publicly the right way. Yeah, I called ‘Dibs’ but she needs to be wearing my cut once I make it known, and fucking loudly, that she is mine.

We pass through the streets, our presence announced by the thunderous growl of our bikes. People turn their heads as we roll by, some with curiosity, others with respect or apprehension.

The Rugged Skulls MC is one of respect, loyalty, and sometimes fear, a world that demands strength and determination. We do good by most of the laws, but fuck me sometimes laws are meant to be broken, especially when they are for the right kind of justice.

Pres signals to us, letting us know we are about to stop.

We line the bikes up in formation, me alongside Racer. He pulls his helmet off once the bikes are shut down.

“Got a text from Maverick. Both he and Astrid have received some information that the Deadly Dwellers like to hang out at a dive bar not five miles from here. So we are going to check it out and see what these fucks want.”

“Prospect, have you heard anything more about your friends?” I call out to Logan.

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