Page 39 of Her Possessive Biker
I don’t blame him.In fact, it’s kind of hot.
Reaper steps forward, arms crossed. “You the cavalry?”
The man nods once. “Hayden Blaze. Sent by Ghost.”
“And this is Cathy Bennett,” the woman adds, holding out a hand.
Her handshake is strong. Her smile is stronger.
“Cassie,” I say. “Cassie Jean.”
“Oh my god,” Cathy blurts, looking around wide-eyed. “I’ve never actually stepped foot in a biker clubhouse before. Do they always smell like leather and testosterone?”
Deadeye coughs out a laugh.
“Pretty much,” I tell her.
Hayden’s jaw tightens when one of the guys lingers a look too long on Cathy. He steps closer to her like he’s daring someone to try it again. Cathy just rolls her eyes and links her arm through his.
“He’s like this even at the grocery store,” she whispers to me. “You’d think I was a precious national treasure.”
“You kind of are,” Hayden mutters under his breath.
Oh.
Yeah.
They’rethatcouple.
And honestly, I love them already.
We head inside the Black Crown, and it’s like someone flipped a switch. Red calls for coffee. Diesel and Crank help Cathy get settled in one of the booths. Hayden pulls out a file from the Jeep, and Holt and Deadeye move in fast.
It’s business now.
But the good kind.
The kind where we get to be on the offensive.
“We’ve been tracking Patch-Eye and Snake through separate investigations,” Cathy explains, flipping open the folder. “I’m an investigative journalist. I was digging into a trafficking ring that’s been recruiting girls off social media and forcing them across state lines.”
My stomach turns. My fingers clench on the edge of the table.
“They’ve been at this for years,” Hayden adds. “But they’ve been careful. No loose ends. No survivors. Until now.”
My throat goes dry. “They were going to sell me?”
Cathy looks me straight in the eyes. “Yes. And worse. But you surviving? Escaping? Catching them in Savage Kings’ territory? That’s the nail in the coffin.”
“And with my contacts in state police and federal intel,” Hayden adds, voice low and grim, “they’ll never see daylight again.”
Holt’s hand finds mine under the table.
I squeeze back.
“Why didn’t the cops help before?” I ask. “When Cal tried to pay them off?”
“They weren’t paying attention to small debts,” Cathy says. “But they sure as hell will now. And with what your club found, plus our evidence, this entire operation goes up in flames.”
