Page 4 of The Biker's Single Mom
Hawk nods and steps away, pulling out a phone.
Steel turns back to me, his eyes catching on my trembling hands before locking with mine. "Your car's not going anywhere today. Neither are you." His eyes flick to Violet, then back to my face. "You and the kid stay with me tonight."
It's not a request. Not an offer of help. It's a command, delivered with the absolute certainty of a man who expects to be obeyed.
And despite everything in me that rejects being told what to do, despite years of fighting for independence and freedom from controlling men… I feel a terrifying wave of relief wash over me.
Chapter 2 – Daniel
I've made it a point to live by rules. Simple ones. Don't make promises I can't keep. Don't waste words. Don't get attached.
And the most important: keep women and their complications far from my life.
Yet here I am, leading a curvy blonde and her wide-eyed kid through the back entrance of the clubhouse, breaking every damn rule I've set for myself.
"This is temporary," I tell Daisy as I punch in the security code. The heavy steel door unlocks with a metallic thunk.
She follows me inside, clutching Violet's hand like it's a lifeline. The kid's sneakers squeak against the polished concrete floor, and her eyes widen as she takes in the space.
"Is this where the motorcycle doctors live?" Violet asks, staring up at the Riders' reaper insignia painted across one wall.
"Some of us," I answer, my voice gruffer than I intended.
Daisy's gaze follows mine around the room, taking in the leather couches, the bar along one wall, the hallway leading to the private rooms. Her shoulders are set with tension, but there's no fear in her eyes. Just wariness.
"I appreciate the help," she says carefully, "but I don't want to impose. We can find a motel—"
"Not happening." I cut her off, unlocking a door that leads to one of our safe rooms. "Your ex sent men after you. Men who knew exactly where to find you. Motels have shit security."
Her cheeks flush. "I've managed on my own for two years."
"And now you're not on your own." I push the door open, revealing a simply furnished room with a queen bed, attached bathroom, and a small sitting area. "This is yours. Lock it from inside."
She steps past me into the room, her floral perfume brushing against me. The curve of her hip nearly touches my hand, and I clench my fingers into a fist.
Violet bounds into the room and immediately climbs onto the bed, bouncing experimentally. "Mommy, it's like a castle!"
Daisy's face softens as she watches her daughter, revealing a glimpse of the woman beneath the wariness. For a second, I want to see that look directed at me, which is exactly why I need to maintain distance.
"Thank you," she says, turning back to me. "But I still don't understand why you're helping us."
I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed. "The Riders protect what's ours."
Her eyebrow arches. "We're notyours."
"You're in my territory," I counter. "That makes you my problem."
"I'm not anyone's problem," she says, chin lifting. There's that sunshine pushing through storm clouds again. "I'm a solution looking for the right equation."
Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitches. "That right?"
"Mmm-hmm." She matches my stance, arms folded beneath breasts that strain against her sundress. "And Carlo Ricci is just one more problem I'll solve."
The name lands like a grenade in the room. I recognize it immediately. New England mob, heavy in weapons trafficking, notorious for brutal enforcement. This isn't some garden-variety ex-husband. This is serious fucking trouble.
"Carlo Ricci," I repeat, watching her face. "That's who sent those men?"
She nods, eyes darting to Violet, who's now arranging pillows into some kind of fort. "My ex-husband. We've been divorced for months, but he doesn't... respect boundaries."
