Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)(21)

Brock’s face turned suddenly blank. It transformed so quickly I had to blink a couple of times. “You’ve been looking into the club,” he said flatly.

My stomach dropped slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied.

Brock scowled. “Don’t play dumb. You think we don’t know when someone’s looking into us, pulling files, asking around about us?” His voice was quiet but it had an edge. A dangerous edge.

I suspected I might be in a slightly hazardous situation. No matter how nice their sisters were or how easygoing the members, these guys were still dangerous. I had the files to prove it.

“You and Gwen turn up, both f*ckin’ knockouts. Your friend gets the instant attention of my VP and get yourselves an invite to a club gathering. You get half the men gagging for you, not to mention Gwen getting my brother tied up in f*cking knots. What’s your play here?” His voice was flat and threatening.

“There is no play,” I said quietly. There was no way I was revealing anything about my reasons for looking into the club. Especially not to do with Jimmy. Gwen had left him behind. No one here knew about it; Gwen didn’t have to live with the ‘victim’ label. No one was going to know until she decided she wanted to share. If she ever decided to tell them.

“Bullshit!” Brock’s voice rose with impatience and I jumped. “Two high class pieces like you don’t just come along and decide to slum it with bikers for no reason. We’re not your people. So I repeat my question. What is your play? Keep in mind I’m going to find out either way. It’s just quicker and better for you to tell me straight up now. You ain’t f*cking up my club, Sparky, no matter how sweet your ass is. And my VP may be blinded by gash right now, but he’s got me to find out what’s going on.”

I stared at him as his words sunk in. Did he seriously just refer to Gwen as a “gash”? No f*cking way. Anger blossomed in my stomach, replacing the desire and fear that had been there moments ago.

“Okay, Rocket Power, let’s just get one thing straight here. You refer to Gwen in a derogatory way one more time you’ll need a surgeon to remove my Jimmy Choo from your balls. Secondly, there is no ‘play’.” I finger quoted his ridiculous phrase. Who spoke like that?

“The only thing there is is my concern for my best friend,” I continued. “She’s getting involved with someone who doesn’t look all that safe on the surface. I’m all for not judging a book by its leather bound cover, but I’m also not an idiot. We’re new here—we don’t know anything about you or your ‘club’,” I finger quoted again. “You could help old ladies cross the road in your spare time or you could manage a cock fighting syndicate. I don’t know. Therefore I did a little background check on you. Not to hurt your club but to protect my girl. Your reaction right now makes me sure I made the right choice, *.” I delivered my speech in a scathing tone and accompanying glare. When I was finished I grasped the door handle, intending to storm out. Does one storm out of a vehicle? Maybe I could climb out aggressively.

A hand at my arm stopped me. I glared at it. “Let me go,” I hissed.

His grip was firm but not painful and if I’m honest, the same electric current flowed through me than when he had brushed my stomach. “Wait a second, Sparky. You don’t get to spew all that shit, then storm off. You were protecting your girl, I’m protecting my club. You don’t know us, we don’t know you. You arming yourself with information—there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m just trying to do the same, though I’m asking it to your face instead of going behind your back and digging up dirt.”

I moved my glare from my arm to his eyes. They were hard, determined, but still held a note of desire. I ignored that. “Oh, so the big bad bikers are scared of two women? You don’t want that to get out. It might damage your street cred,” I shot sarcastically.

“Sons aren’t scared of nothing, Sparky. What I do know is what the right woman can do. She can get under your skin, either in a good way or a bad way. Either one, it affects the club. Trying to figure out which category Gwen falls into.” His calm and even tone juxtaposed my biting one.

“Gwen would never do anything to hurt anyone. She doesn’t know anything about me learning about the club. I’d like it to stay that way,” I requested sharply.

Brock watched me a second. “Your secret’s safe with me. That don’t mean I won’t be watching you—not that that’s a chore.” His eyes travelled down to my legs. “But I find out you’re lying, that you are doing anything that jeopardizes the club, it won’t be good, Sparky,” he warned.

“Watch away, Otto. I don’t have anything to hide. Unlike you. I won’t be digging into you or the club anymore, but I suggest if you do have something to hide make sure it’s buried nice and deep. And that it doesn’t touch my friend.” I gave him a warning of my own. It took a lot more than veiled threats delivered from a sex god to scare me.

He nodded stiffly. “I guess that offer for a drink is rescinded?” His tone had turned playful but his eyes were dark with desire. I was dangerously aware of his hand still grasping mine.

“Yeah, the offer was rescinded the moment you referred to my best friend as a ‘gash’,” I hissed. “If you do so again, make no mistake—I’ll rip your balls off.”