Page 11 of Bolt (Iron Thunder MC 1)
“I can’t…I can’t be calm. I want to. But my brother’s out there and he’s getting hurt. I can hear him in pain; I need to get out there and help him.”
I spluttered the words out.
The tears weren’t far away now, and I knew I was going to burst into howls, losing all control. I would never be able to protect Chip now.
But the shakiness of my voice and my near tears must have worked because he loosened his grip a little.
“If you sit down, we can talk through this. Looks like we both need some answers.” I turned slowly to look at him. We were dangerously close to each other. I saw him studying my face, as if memorizing the shape of my mouth. I felt that gut-wrenching need for him again.
Nothing would be as sexy as his big rough hands on my body. On my breasts. Between my thighs.
I stepped away from him and he let me go.
“I want to know what’s going on with Chip,” I said.
“Like I said, if you sit down here, we can talk about it.”
I gulped. My throat was dry. My heart was racing. Things had gotten awfully quiet outside. I was worried about Chip, but there was literally nothing I could do for him right now.
So I did as I was told and took the chair by the desk. He continued to watch me like a hawk, even though we both knew I wasn’t going anywhere unless he wanted me to.
“First things first. My name is Justin Daniels. Friends call me Bolt.”
He was standing the other side of the desk, both fists firmly planted on it. This setting felt uncomfortably like an interrogation room—complete with the bulb hanging over us.
“But I’m not your friend, am I?” I snapped. I was seated, with my legs crossed, my arms wrapped around my stomach tightly. I was clutching myself like I could somehow stop feeling sick.
He took in a deep breath.
“We can be, if you follow my advice. Why don’t you start off by calling me Bolt? We can take it from there.”
“Is that all it takes for someone to become your friend? Take your advice and listen to you? Sounds like you run a dictatorship.” My voice sizzled. I hoped he knew exactly how much I despised being here, being held by him against my will.
Bolt straightened up, clenching his jaw.
“I’m trying to help you, Cassie, but all I’m hearing from you is resistance and defiance.”
I glared at him. Red eyes. “What do you want me to do? Wag my tail and roll over because you haven’t killed me yet?”
“Killed you? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Isn’t that what you people are going to do to us? Chip and me?”
“You think we’re going to kill you both?”
My shoulders heaved as I stared at him. He was sexy. Even his fucking shoulders were muscular and broad. I licked my lips and gulped.
“I don’t know what you’re going to do to us, but I hear my brother howling in pain. You’re not exactly hosting a tea party out there. That much is clear to me.”
A grin cracked Bolt’s face then and he brushed a hand through his dark slick hair.
“Do you know what your brother is doing here?” he asked.
“I don’t even know what this place is! I thought it was just a bar, but it looks like you guys have a club or something set up back here. So no, I don’t know what Chip’s doing here. Why don’t you enlighten me?”
Bolt slowly thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“You’re right, this is a clubhouse. That bar in the front, that’s run by us too.”
“And who are you exactly?”
He was grinning again.
“We’re the Iron Thunder MC.”
“MC?”
“Motorcycle Club.”
I gulped nervously. So I was right about the bikes outside. They did belong to a biker gang. All these men with their muscles and leather jackets, tattoos and beards and hardcore drinking habits—this was their way of life. The question was, what was Chip doing here?
“Do you understand any of this?” Bolt continued.
I looked up at him, trying my best to hide my confusion.
“Who are you? What is your role here? Are you all members of this club?” I asked.
“Yes, all patched-in official members. I’m the Sergeant of Arms.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. It sounded like an important title, but I didn’t ask him to explain it to me. A part of me didn’t want to find out the kind of duties he had.
I sat there twiddling my thumbs, waiting for him to get to the part where he’d give me information about my brother, afraid to ask any questions now.
“Do you know that Chip’s also a member of this MC?” he asked.
I stared at him, dumbfounded. I had no idea. I would never have guessed Chip might be a part of something like this. Sure, I saw him ride his bike everywhere, and it even looked like he was trying to grow a beard lately. But he’d always had a taste in leather jackets and getting into trouble. I didn’t think it meant he was officially a biker gang member.
