Hunter: Hell Reapers MC - A Bad Boy Biker Romance

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

When we finally reached club Vivid, my stomach was doing gymnastics.

I had a bad feeling about this.

This was unlike anything I'd ever done before, and if the men that Mr. Gates described were even half as brutal as he described - no matter how hot I find that to be - they could seriously hurt me if I make a wrong move.

Sabrina brought the car to a stop in the parking lot. It wasn't ludicrously full, but there were lots of bikes - no doubt some of them being from the Hell Reapers. Outside there were plenty of party-goers, night owls, sycophants and other various fiends. Most of them drunk or blitzed out of their minds. Smoke from cigarettes, cigars and what momma used to always refer to as 'those left handed' cigarettes, danced through the night air. Even from here you could hear the dull boom of club tunes; the outside crowd was anything except still, talking and cursing and howling, police sirens occasionally blaring off in the distance.

Like I said. Bad feeling. Course, what's life without getting a little dirty? Focusing on the work, focusing on this moment; it was all I had left. The last fortification of Castle Ives. There was a melancholy then, that soaked itself into my bones, hiding away there were nobody could find it.

Maybe Gates only picked me for this because he knew how desperate I'd be for it. Either way, I'm here now. Even if it wasn't like me to back down, I can't abandon her...she's always been there for me.

Sabrina made an offhand comment about how different the place was, how the atmosphere wasn't so much fun as it was foreboding. We'd been to party scenes before, but nothing like this. "You don't have to do this, Jess," she whispered with genuine concern. Always trying to look out for me.

A smirk graced the lines of my face, and I turned to face her. I could feel the excitement and the fear in my bones; my heart was practically beating in my ears. "Relax, Winters," I said ruefully, "it's just a club, you think I'm gonna let some rowdy boys or too-drunk for their panties college girls get the best of me?" I shook my head and raised my brow half an inch, "this is nothing."

Sabrina said nothing, opting only to give me a grave glance, "Just contact me if something goes wrong. Please. And if I don't hear from you by midnight, I'm going to come down here myself and kick so much ass I won't be able to walk right for at least a week."

Laughter escaped me and fingers of joy pressed against my chest, "Yeah, from you? I'd expect nothing less."

"No doubt," Sabrina smirked, "now get out of my car you high-end whore. I've got more lady-like things to do than dance with some greased up bike-jocks."

I grabbed the door handle and left Sabrina's SUV, giving her a middle finger, "Frack you, Winters, you made me high-end."

She waved goodbye to me with that dumb, somehow comforting grin. But when she drove away, I felt a pit inside of me gnaw away at my will to go on. I was alone now. Alone and about to enter the den of wolves.

I'd looked through some of the preliminary work that Amanda Childes had left me before she got the case of strep. One of the members she had managed to snap a couple pictures of, and for that my lady bits were eternally in Amanda's debt. He looked eerily familiar, but I couldn't place were from. Broad shoulders, a sly look on his gorgeous twenty something face – definitely on the older side and with some gruff. I was taken aback though, because the guy had tattoos and a hard look to him – but compared to the others he was, well, he looked more like an actor that was brought up in the lifestyle of an outlaw, than just an outlaw.