Page 2 of Protected by the Biker (Grim Reaper MC)
Popping my phone back into my bag, I picked up my car keys and was ready to go.
It was at that moment when the feeling returned. That familiar dark feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt like I was being watched. My limbs froze, and I stood stock still at the back door of the dressing room. It was the door I had come in through earlier and the door that would lead me out into the parking lot. All these weeks, I had a chauffeur driving me around, but tonight, desperately craving some privacy, I had asked him to take a break, and I had driven myself to the studio.
Now, I was beginning to regret it.
Who could be watching me? I looked around the silent dressing room. The windows and the doors were shut, there were no cameras around. I was the only person here and yet, I felt like there was someone else here with me.
A deep pit formed in my stomach when I realized it was Ryan I was thinking of. For the past five years, since I left New York and left him, I had always been a little paranoid. There would be days when I'd go without once thinking of him and then suddenly, out of the blue, I'd be hit by this nauseous feeling that he was here with me.
It was a ridiculous thought, I knew that. But he had gotten so deep under my skin that I knew I would always be afraid of him. Even though I hadn't been in touch with him, and I hadn't seen him in five years, he was always somehow in the back of my mind. I hated how he affected me the way he did.
Sucking in my gut and stabilizing my breathing, I opened the door again and stepped out. I refused to let him make me afraid. The daylight was slowly fading behind the clouds. The parking lot was full of parked cars because the show was taped on a busy studio lot. However, there was nobody there.
I weaved around the cars as I made my way towards mine. I hadn't changed out of the stilettos and the sound of the heels clicking against the concrete was the only sound around me. I hurried towards my car and on the way, as I clutched, keys in my fingers.
The longer I spent in the parking lot, in the growing darkness, by myself, the more anxious I got. The faster my heart was beating.
At my car door, I thought I heard footsteps behind me. The keys fell from my hand on the ground, and I stifled a shriek and crouched down on the ground to pick it up as quickly as I could. My breath was caught in my throat. The sound of footsteps echoed near me, and I was convinced that someone was running up behind me and I was too frightened to turn and look.
I thrust the key into the door and finally gathered the courage to look. There was nobody there. I had imagined the whole thing. The footsteps. The convincing sensation that there was another human presence in the parking lot. It was all in my head.
Breathing heavy sighs of relief, I opened the car door and sat down. The key was in the ignition now. I checked all the mirrors in the car to make sure there was nobody in the car, and I locked the doors. I was well and truly alone. I put my head into my hands. I felt like I was beginning to go mad. What had gotten into me? When was I going to stop being so afraid?
I turned the music on loud on the radio, just to make me feel like I wasn't so alone and I started the car. Things had been going so well tonight until I started thinking of New York and Ryan.
Chapter 3
Thorn
Dirty Harry's was the biker bar that The Grim Reapers owned, and where the members met up. Enzo had set the tradition of conducting Church in the back office, and that was where I was headed the next morning.
The boys had got the message I'd sent out early that morning, and when I entered the office; I saw that they were all already assembled there. Brooks was now the new VP, taking over from me. Jamison was our Sergeant in Arms, Topher was Treasurer and Beckett was Road Captain. The core team of the club had all gathered in one room, and there was a distinct absence of the others. Others who would have been present on any other day, before we were attacked.
The men grew silent when they saw me enter. This was the first Church to be called in ten days-which meant that it was also the first Church to be called by me, as President.
"We should sit down," I grumbled as my first words. The men looked at each other, brothers in arms who trusted each other and one by one, we each took a chair at the table. I knew what was going through their heads, the same thoughts that were going through mine. That it was strange to have Enzo and the others absent today.
Brooks ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. I knew he had something to say.
"This is fucking crazy, man. Enzo and our brothers are in prison, and we're sitting here on leather chairs," he growled. I clenched my jaw and could feel my hands fisting up.
"I spoke to him," I said, and an immediate chatter rang up in the group. They all had questions. None of them had spoken to Enzo or the others in the past three days, and they all wanted to know what was going on.
"Did you tell him we're going to go get him?"
"How is he holding up?"
"Does he need protection?"
"Fuck!"
"We'll fuck them up!"
The words were being thrown around in the room. Everyone was talking at once, and I could see that they were all riled up. I raised a hand up in the air to silence them, and just like that, there was peace in the room again.
"He's okay. He sounded okay. They're being transferred to County prison today, and he said that they've figured out protection on the inside. He doesn't need our help," I said, and Jamison banged his fist on the table.
"Fuck that, man. We'll have to raid the prison or something to get them out. Let's do it," he barked.
"Give us the order!" Beckett added, and I shook my head.
"That is the exact opposite of what Enzo wants us to do right now," I said, trying to copy the same calmness that Enzo had displayed over the phone.
"What the fuck are you talking about, brother?" Brooks growled, and I looked him square in the eye. For Enzo to convince me that we needed to take a step back, was an easy task. For me to convince this blood-thirsty bunch to do the same; was going to be a whole different story.
"I'm talking about laying low. We've taken a huge hit. We can't afford to go on the attack right now. It could completely destroy the club. If we lost any more of our men; if any more of us got arrested, there would be nothing left of The Grim Reapers," I growled back. We were already a smaller club that most of them in the area. Another blow and there would be nothing left.
I could see the rage bubbling up in each of them. They were all feeling what I had felt when I spoke to Enzo. A desperate urge to hit out. An animalistic need for vengeance. I could see Topher's mouth quivering, as he tried to stop himself from erupting.
"We need to deflect attention. Stay away from the weapons," I reiterated.
"But what about our suppliers and buyers? We're going to fucking lose business!" Topher spat, and I drummed my fingers on the table.
"I'll take care of that. I'll speak to them. We can't take any more chances right now. The ATF is dying to take us all down. We'd be putting the whole club at risk, as well as the guys who are in prison already," I replied.
The men were silent now. They were confused because I was ordering them to go against their first instinct of attack.
"So, lay low how? What the fuck are we going to do?" Beckett asked, and I drew in a deep breath before I spoke again.
"We have to think of some kind of legit business to get ourselves involved in," I said. "Make the ATF bored with us, so they move on to something else." This wasn't something that Enzo had told me, but it was the best idea I could come up with. I knew that these men needed to vent, they needed something to occupy themselves with while we waited for Enzo's next command.
"A legit business? Like fucking what?" Brooks barked again, and I shrugged my shoulders.
"This is why I'm talking to you guys. We need to figure out an idea, something to keep us clean-at least for a while," I replied, and they exchanged looks again. I could see that it would take them a while for the news to sink in. Until then, it would have to be me doing all the t
hinking.
"Any ideas?" I urged them, but they remained silent; just staring at me blankly like I had just asked them to shoot each other.
I stood up from my chair with a jerk. The best thing to do right now would be to leave the idea hanging, allow it to sink in so they could all accept it.
