****

Crasssssshhhh!!

I jump, clenching Jai’s forearm as the doors to the rundown establishment fly open, exposing a bulky, bald headed man in a leather vest. In his hands, he clenches a lean, beanstalk of a man whose face is all beat-up, his skin painted with black and purple bruises. Freeing his arm from my grip, Jai wraps it around my waist and swiftly pulls me to the side as the skinny man is tossed off the porch and down the stairs. I gasp as his frail body hits the dirt with a thud. Groaning, he curses into the ground, his blood turning the dirt into mud as it mixes with the earth.

“Holy shit!” Ted booms, holding back a laugh. “What’d he do?”

The aggressive man with the strong toss, disappears behind the black wooden doors as they slam shut, trapping the sounds of rock music and laughter behind it.

“Ignore him.” Joel states, brushing past me.

He clears the five stairs in two bounds, reluctantly slowing down when he realizes we’re not following. With an exhale betrayed by the sudden drop of his annoyed shoulders, Joel turns around.

“He’s hurt.” I point out, even though it’s obvious.

“It’s not our problem.”

Of course it’s not. It’s easier to ignore someone in need than to help. Unsurprisingly, Huss and Ted step around me and join Joel on the porch.

“You’re kidding?” I say, scowling at the three of them.

Ted shrugs his wide shoulders. “It’s kind of a buzzkill and besides, look at him. He’s homeless.”

I glance down at the small, old man who now sits on his ass, clenching his ribs. I can see how Ted came to that conclusion. The stranger’s hair is matted together, strands glued with blood and booze. His skinny, black jeans are torn around the knees and his Black Sabbath shirt is stained and sagging at the collar. Despite all that, despite the fear of him lashing out at me or sticking me with a used syringe, I step away from Jai and move closer to the man.

“Sir? Are you all right?”

“Emily...” Jai mutters, concern laced with warning clear in his low tone.

He looms over me, a protective lover at my back, pressing his wide palm firmly against my hip.

“Just another typical Thursday.” The man forces out, his voice trapped inside his boney chest. “I think I’ll be okay.”

His body quakes and shakes as he rolls onto his side and pushes himself on to all fours. He holds himself in that position for a little while, dragging on the seconds as if his pain will ease long enough for him to push himself onto his feet.

“Is there anything we can do for you?”

“Not unless you’re a doctor—ahhh.”

Stepping around me, Jai grabs the old man’s forearm and bicep and helps him to his feet. Jai gives me a look—pursed lips and a slight frown. He’s not happy about helping the old man, but he’s doing it anyway. For me. Someone fucking catch me before I swoon myself into a coma.

“You don’t smell too good, old man.” Jai states, turning his face up to the sky.

“You can talk. How much of that cologne are ya wearin? Jesus Christy. D’you soak your clothes in it?”

Panting, the man reaches for his front pocket and frees a shitty little cellphone. “Call me an ambulance.”

He tosses the phone to me and, luckily, even in the dim light, I manage to catch the ancient device.

“No, you go inside.” Jai says, holding his hand out. “I’ll call the ambulance and take this gentleman to the bus stop down the drive. They’ll find him easier there.”

I hand him the phone. “Are you sure? Because I don’t mind—”

“I’m sure. I’ll only be a second. Stay with Joel, all right? Don’t leave his side until I get back.”

I step back, my palms exposed. “Okay. I’ll stay with Joel.”

Supporting the bulk of the man’s weight, Jai escorts him through the parking lot and disappears into the shadows cast by the looming oak trees. I turn back to the building, unable to stop the shiver that shoots through me, lodging my heart in my throat. It doesn’t make sense to me why we’d come to a place where men are getting tossed out doors and I can’t even walk around by myself. Although, I guess we’re kinda limited on places we can go in terms of being seen. Still, I’d just about take anywhere else over this run down, tin shed of a building. On a thick plank of wood nailed to the roof of the bar is a makeshift sign. The words ‘THE CAVERN TSMC’ are chiseled into it. Underneath its headline is a sentence. ‘In honor we fight. In death we rest.’

I’m not sure what it means, but it’s definitely not a slogan you can feel good about.

“It’s good fun here, Em.” Joel calls from the porch. “You’ll love it.”

Joel pushes open the doors and enters the premise, leaving me outside in the cold. I stare after him. He’s not even going to wait for me? My heart pounds in my chest, the stress of indecision eating me up. Do I go find Jai and beg him to take me home or do I follow Joel into the scary building and hope I’m not going to be gang raped the second I step foot inside?

AWOOOOOOO! 

I jump as a dog howls close by and that just about settles it. I am not about to be eaten alive by rabid dogs.

“Joel! Wait!” I rasp in a rough whisper. “Wait for me!”

My shoes clack loudly against the rickety wooden steps and are even louder once I step onto the porch. I reach for the doors and they whoosh open at the last second, slamming against the tips of my fingers. I squeak as I slam on my brakes, clenching my hand to my chest.

I smell the leather first, then the booze, and, finally, the cigarette. I trail my stare up the man in front of me. Huge, black boots for stomping skulls into the ground, thick, coarse jeans for wiping the blood off his knife with, a plain black t-shirt to no doubt stuff in someone’s mouth as he’s beating the hell out of them, and a worn leather vest with Vice President Devil’s Cartel Motorcycle Club  stitched into the breast of it. I shrink into myself as I finally flick my gaze to his face. Oily, chin length hair filled with natural waves hang down the sides of his face as he glares down at me. His eyes are dark, as black as tar, and he has a scar that runs through his eyebrow.

I gulp.

He’s a beast. A delicious, manly beast.

“Uh...hell..ooo.” I cringe, wrapping my arms around my body—a strange defense mechanism I didn’t know I had.

“You’re blocking my way.” He bites out, his voice rough like gravel.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” I slip to the side, giving him space to beat his chest and storm off. “Sorry.”

Instead of leaving, he flicks his cigarette to the floor and stamps it into wood with his heavy, black boot, overtly looking me up and down. “Whose whore are you? Bones’s? Crow’s? That fucking piece of shit Joker’s?”

What the fuck are they? More importantly, did he call me a whore? Why am I a whore?

“Um...I’m no one’s whore.”

He leans in close and the race of my heart feels like betrayal.

“Are you sure?”

I gulp again. “Yes.”

“Is there a problem here?” Relief floods at the sound of a familiar voice. Stepping to the side, the Vice President of the Devil’s Cartel turns around and I see Joel at the doors, his fists clenched at his sides.

“She’s with you?” The biker asks, folding his thick arms across the wide expanse of his chest.

Joel steps out from the doorway and the door closes behind him, clicking shut with finality. With confidence, Joel swallows the distance between us. What is he—oh! I startle as he slides his hand around my hip—too close to the curve of my ass for my liking—and pulls me tight against his body.

“Yeah, she’s with me.”

My heart pounds in my ears as the stranger closely examines Joel. Please don’t recognize him. Please don’t recogni—”

“I know you.”

Shit.

“You’re one of Skull’s men.”

Joel’s body tightens, his fingers digging painfully into my hip. I shift my hips, but his grasp doesn’t let up.