Page 15 of Wild Heart
With the hand that isn’t holding me, he swings a punch so quick the bouncer isn’t expecting it. The man stumbles to the side, and Raiden drags me through the door and out into the cool air.
“Get the bikes ready,” Raiden calls to a large man leaning against a motorbike. He’s got the same Wild Riders MC jacket that Raiden’s wearing, but without the President’s badge.
I glance behind me, expecting to see the doorman coming after us. But instead the young guy in the wheelchair is blocking the door. He’s wheeling back and forth like he doesn’t know how to drive it. He moves backward and runs over the doorman’s foot, eliciting a yelp of pain.
“Sorry, still not used to this thing,” the man in the wheelchair says.
But he’s got a grin on his face as he moves the motorized controller back and forth. The doorman bounces on his toesimpatiently with a frown on his face, torn between wanting to run after us and not wanting to push a man in a wheelchair out of the way.
I kind of feel sorry for him. He’s just doing his job, and I decide to throw him a bone.
“It’s okay,” I call to him. “I quit anyway.”
All I had in the changing room was a small bag with some makeup and twenty bucks. The girls can have it.
Raiden pushes a helmet onto my head. Then he shrugs his jacket off and drapes it over my shoulders. His buddy is already reversed and ready to go.
“Get on, Isabella,” he commands.
I usually hate men telling me what to do, but he’s got a set to his jaw as he glances back at the doorman.
Still, I hesitate. I’m not ready to go back to my father.
“Where will you take me?”
“Not home if that’s not what you want. I’ll take you to the clubhouse, and you can explain what the fuck you were doing in a strip club.”
He doesn’t give me time to resist. His thick hands secure me at the hips, and he lifts me up like I weigh nothing and plonks me down on his bike.
“We need to go. Now.”
I nod quickly and slide my leg over the seat. It catches on something sticking out, and I feel a sharp sting. When I glance down, there’s a trickle of blood oozing down my leg. I guess a tiny skirt isn’t the best riding gear.
Raiden revs the engine, and I grip his waist as the bike jerks forward.
Behind us, the man in the wheelchair has gotten control of his chair, and he moves aside as the doorman lunges toward us. Men from the bar burst into the street. I recognize the owner and some of his cronies.
But they’re too late. As we ride past, Raiden raises a hand to wheelchair guy. The man grins and raises his hand in response.
We burst out of the alleyway, and I grip Raiden tight as we swerve around a corner.
I’m furious at him for bursting in and ruining my plans. But I’m also so relieved to see him that my chest hurts.
As the bike settles into a steady rhythm, I lean against his solid back, letting the hum of the bike soothe me. For the first time since I scaled the wall, I feel calm.
7
RAIDEN
It’s dark by the time we pull up to the clubhouse. Marcus roars in behind us, and we maneuver our bikes into the line of Harleys out back. Lately, my men have been swapping the single life for family life, and there are as many cars now as bikes, each with a baby seat in the back.
Everyone’s gathering tonight for a club meal. I can only be thankful we’ve closed the bar and restaurant so only the club will see Isabella. Still, I want to keep her presence known to as few people as possible until I figure out what the hells is going on.
I’m equal parts furious at her for dancing in a place like that where she could have come to harm and relieved that I’ve got her on the back of my bike.
I saw red in the club when I realized it was Isabella showing so much flesh to those hungry men. I would have fought every single one of them to get her out of there.
I have no idea what she’s trying to pull. If it’s another stunt to piss off her father, then it’s a good one. A mafia princess working in a place like the Fuzzy Peach. It’s not even a surprise that no one recognized her. The kind of people who frequent places like that are too ignorant to know who runs them.
