Zak accepted the draft beer from Bella as she worked her way down the bar. He took a sip before placing it in front of him.

The Iron Horse was quiet tonight. A few regulars. But for the most part, nobody was being rowdy and the music from the jukebox was louder than the patrons. Sometimes it could be the opposite.

The crack of the pool balls from the tables, along with the murmurs of the customers who were eating unhealthy bar food and drinking drafts or downing shots, were much more pleasant sounds than the shouts of inmates, buzzers, and the clang of a closing cell door.

After handing off beers to a couple guys down at the end of the bar, she stopped back in front of Zak and leaned a hip against the bar.

He loved this woman like a sister and was disappointed to see that her carefree attitude, and fun-loving, wild personality had been permanently changed.

“How’d it go today?” he asked.

She gave him a small smile. “Good.” She studied him for a second then said, “She’s awesome, Z.”

Nothing he didn’t already know. “Yeah,” he agreed, trying not to smile like a fool into his beer.

“She knows her stuff, too. It was fun. I ended up covered in flour and powdered sugar but it’s a small price to pay to learn what she does.”

He was pleased they got along so well. “Lemme guess. You made red velvet cupcakes.”

Bella—he was having difficulty thinking of her as anything but Izzy—let her gaze drift away. “Yeah. They’re good.”

“I’m sure they are. But I’m also sure that’s not the only reason my asshole cop brother stops in there.”

Bella still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

He traced a finger down his sweating pint glass. “Somethin’ going on, Izz?”

“Bella, Z. You know that.”

“Bella, then.”

“With what?”

He lifted his beer but hesitated with it held only an inch from his lips. “That whole shit with Axel.”

Because if something was going on between Axel and Sophie, he needed to know. If anyone would tell him, Bella would.

“Nope.”

Zak took a sip, then frowned and shrugged. “Okay.”

She lifted a brow, a clear sign she couldn’t believe he’d let it drop.

“You goin’ back tomorrow morning?”

Her eyes lit up at his question. It was nice to see her excited about something. In the few days he’d been home, he hadn’t seen enough of that from her. It pained him.

“Plan on it.”

“You wanna give up bar tending?”

She sighed. “Not sure. Tips are half decent, but the clientele can be a challenge, as we all know.”

“No shit. No need for Diesel’s bouncers tonight, though.”

“There’s one here.”

Zak twisted his neck to look toward the front door. “Who?

“Lincoln.”

That’s when he noticed the prospect nicknamed “Abe” standing by the front door, arms casually crossed over his chest. The one Jayde couldn’t keep her eyes off of. As long as they kept their hands off each other, Abe would last another week as a prospect.

Just then, two other prospects rushed through the front door and Abe went into full defense mode. Squirrel and Weasel shot the other recruit a quick glance but didn’t stop to talk to him. They jogged up to Zak instead.

“Z!”

They were both out of breath, which made him frown. Something was up. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. “What?”

“Shit went down at the bakery. Pierce told us to get you right away,” Squirrel said.

Zak pushed off the stool to his feet. “What shit?”

Weasel joined in. “Not sure. We just got a call from Pierce to let you know. Said he was tryin’ to get a hold of you. Some kinda shit with the Warriors.”

What felt like a bucket of ice water rushed down Zak’s spine. Fucking Shadow Warriors, still pulling their shit. “Sophie okay?”

“Dunno.”

“What the fuck you mean you don’t know? What’d Pierce say?”

“He said get you. Tell you to get over there. You didn’t answer your phone.”

Zak pulled his phone out of his back pocket and saw he had a half dozen missed calls and texts from the club’s president.

Fuck.

He must have accidentally put his phone on silent. He skimmed through the texts but they didn’t have any good information.

He glanced at Bella. “I’m out. Anyone comes lookin’ for me that’s where I’ll be. Call Diesel. Let him know if he don’t already.” He turned back to the prospects. “You two stay here with Abe. Watch the bar and Bella. Got me?”

He got two “yeahs” as answers. He gave them a sharp nod, a pointed look, and pushed through the swinging double doors to the kitchen. Once he came out of the kitchen into the clubhouse side, he started hauling ass toward the door to the back parking lot where he’d left the piece of shit car parked. It had better start.

Luckily, it did. He pealed out of the lot, kicking up stones as he floored the accelerator.

When he arrived at the bakery, no spots remained out front. He pulled around back and parked next to Sophie’s car. After jimmying the locked back door to the bakery, he rushed through the empty kitchen area into the shop, then stopped dead.

Mitch Jamison, in full uniform, had his arm around Sophie, and it looked as though he was consoling her.

That was his job. Not his father’s.

Fuck.

Mitch’s eyes rose to meet his, and he frowned. Not a welcoming “Hey, son, glad you’re out of the slammer” smile. Nope. More like a “what fucking mess have you gotten into now” frown.

“She yours?” Mitch asked, surprised, and Axel looked up from whatever he was writing in a spiral notebook.

“Yeah,” Zak answered but didn’t move closer. From where he stood, he let his gaze wander over Sophie to make sure she appeared whole. No blood, but definitely tears. Her face was streaked with them.

Shit.

Mitch shook his head. “Not smart. The Warriors aren’t done with you.”

“They’re not done with the club in general,” Ace said coming through the wide open front door of the bakery. “Zak isn’t the only one they’ve targeted.”

“Who else?”

“Club business,” Zak cut in as if that said it all.

And apparently it did.

“Fucking club business,” Axel muttered, turning his attention back to his report. He scribbled something and then slapped the notebook shut, tucked it in his back pocket, slid the pen into the front pocket of his uniform shirt then spread his feet wide, looking at Zak directly. “This is the shit that I was talking about earlier, Z. This right here. You claim this bakery... Hell, you claim Sophie as DAMC, and this is the type of shit that happens.”

Zak kept his mouth shut. He wanted to push his father out of the way and take over comforting Sophie, but he also needed to know what happened. Instead of asking Mitch or Axel, he looked directly at her. “Tell me.”

She swiped at her eyes. “I heard a crash downstairs, and I thought it might be you breaking in again, so I came down. Lucky I did, someone threw a... a...” She looked toward Axel.

“Molotov cocktail through her front picture window,” he finished for her. “And she is lucky. But only because it didn’t explode. Especially with her being so close.”

Zak’s gaze bounced from the broken window to the broken bottle on the floor with a greasy rag laying nearby. His heart stopped.

“Is this the same old beef, Ace? Or is there a new one?” Mitch asked the older man.

Ace pursed his lips and ran a hand down his long salt and pepper beard. “No beef.”

Mitch sighed and shook his head in disbelief. “Right.”

Sharp laughter came from Axel as he shook his head, too. “Really? No beef? We all know that’s bullshit. There’s been conflict forever. All the way back to when Bear got killed.”

“How you know this is Warriors?” Zak asked Axel.

“Who else would it be?”

Zak shrugged, attempting to be a picture of innocence. “Dunno. Thugs from the Burgh?”

Axel’s eyes cut to Sophie. “You have any known enemies, Sophie? Anyone have a vendetta against you? You step on any other baker’s toes? Crush any cake dreams?”

Zak’s hackles rose as the cop questioned his woman. He held out his hand to her. “Babe, c’mere.”

Mitch’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “You don’t have to listen to him.”

Jesus Christ, his family kept proving that they just weren’t that. “Babe,” he repeated slowly. “C’mere.”

He was relieved when Sophie pulled away from his father and moved closer. But, unfortunately, not close enough.

“I thought you said that being with you would keep me safe. Now it looks like being with you is just the opposite.”

Axel laughed. “He told you that being with him would keep you safe? Right. Is that a pickup line that works? ‘Cause I’ll have to try that one. Though, if I tell a woman that, it will be true. I wear a badge, not a cut with a target on it.”

“Goddamn it,” boomed from the doorway. And everyone’s heads swung that direction. Diesel and Hawk both shouldered their way into the bakery, doing a cursory inspection of the damaged window and toeing the broken bottle. “This is war.”

“I did not just hear that, Diesel. Right?” Mitch said, hands on his hips above his duty belt.

“Knew I should’ve stayed and finished the job,” Diesel grumbled.

Mitch’s eyes narrowed. “What job?”

“Diesel is installing a security system in the bakery,” Axel explained. “They have it all under control,” he finished, the sarcasm thick in his voice. “You know, since this is DAMC territory.”

“Right,” Mitch responded, eyes flicking to Zak, who ignored him and once again held a hand out to Sophie.

“Babe.”

Sophie shook her head, her eyes still shiny with tears. “No, Zak. No. I want no part of this... beef or whatever. I don’t want anything to do with your club.”

“Or you,” Axel finished for her.

“She didn’t say that,” Zak said, shooting daggers at his brother.

“Or you,” Sophie repeated softly.

Fuck.

Not good. One little Molotov cocktail and she was ready to toss him to the curb.

“This is my business. My life. This isn’t a game for me.”

“Babe, c’mere,” he pleaded. He could step forward and grab her, taking her into his arms, but he preferred she'd make the choice to come to him. Plus, it would show the two cops standing in the middle of the bakery that she chose to be with him.

But apparently, he was wrong. She moved away, giving him her back instead.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He wasn’t going to beg in front of his brothers, or Mitch and Axel. He would deal with this after they all cleared out.

Right now, he needed to get her front window boarded up and clean up the spilled gasoline and the broken glass.

“You step up security everywhere?” he asked Diesel, feeling as if he was stepping back into the president’s boots. Even though he wasn’t. But security needed to be tightened right now at every DAMC business. At least until they knew whether this was a hit-and-run by the Warriors or they were in town to play hard.

“Already done,” Diesel answered. “Gotta get the prospects out here with some plywood.”

“I’ll call ‘em and get ‘em in motion,” Ace said, stepping through the broken glass and heading out the front door.

“This shit’s gotta stop,” Hawk grumbled. “You guys done here yet?” he shot at Mitch and Axel.

Axel’s lips thinned, and he turned toward Mitch. “We have enough?”

Mitch gave a sharp nod. “We know who did it. There’s nothing concrete, but, again, they don’t want us serving justice anyhow, so we’ll get no cooperation on either end.”

“Nope. We’ll take care of it,” Diesel barked.

“Right,” Mitch answered. “We’ll up patrol in the area.”

“Not necessary,” Zak said.

“Not your choice,” Mitch answered. “You going to be okay, honey?” he called out to Sophie, who was now behind the counter, hugging herself and staring blankly at the broken window. “They’re going to board up your window. Right, Hawk?”

“Right.”

Sophie didn’t look at any of them, just nodded as if in a daze.

“We’ll get you a report for your insurance,” Mitch added. “Axel will stop by tomorrow to check in on you.” He paused. “And get his cupcake.”

Zak’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his father. “Think you’re done here.”

“Right,” Mitch answered, looking his oldest son over. “I’m sure you do.” He glanced at Sophie, “You need anything, you have our cards. Give us a call, Sophie.”

“Okay,” she said softly, still not looking at them.

Zak watched his blood walk out the front door and only then did he feel his muscles loosen a bit.

Hawk’s eyes flicked from him to Sophie and back. “We got shit handled here if you wanna go get your shit handled.”

Zak wrapped his fingers around the back of his neck and sighed. “Yeah.”

“We can see ourselves out after. We’ll get the fuel cleaned up, too.”

“Thanks, brother.” They clasped arms and bumped shoulders. “First thing tomorrow, yeah?” he said to Diesel, wanting to make sure the security system was finished as soon as possible.

“Yeah, sure thing, brother.”

Zak nodded, then went behind the display counter to wrap an arm around Sophie’s waist and guide her back through the kitchen. She felt wooden to his touch, but then, he couldn’t blame her. Someone was out to not only destroy her business but maybe hurt her, too.

A muscle ticked in his jaw and his fingers tightened on her hip. “Let’s go upstairs, babe.”

She shook her head and stopped at the bottom of the stairway. “I’ll be fine. I want to be by myself.”

That was never going to happen, but he knew if he said that he might never get upstairs.

“Let me at least make sure you get into your apartment safely.”

She hesitated for a moment, then sighed and started up the steps. Zak sucked in a relieved breath.

Once upstairs, he shut the apartment door behind him and twisted the deadbolt. She pulled away from him and turned. “You can go now.”

“I’m either stayin’ here with you tonight or you’re comin’ back to church with me.”

“I have to get up early again in the morning. I’m not leaving. And I’m not going to have them chase me out of my home.”

That settled it. “So I’m staying here.”

“Aren’t you the target?”

“But you’re a part of me.”

At his words, her eyes went from unfocused to heated. “That’s what you think and now that’s what they, these Warriors or whoever, think. But no one asked me what I think.” She stepped to the middle of the room, crossed her arms and spun to face him. “I know I keep asking myself this, but... how the hell did this happen?” Her shaky whisper made his gut twist. “How did I become a part of you? And how would they know this? I only met you five nights ago.”

“News travels fast, babe. Especially when I made it pretty clear you belong to me.”

“Why?”

Why? So many reasons why. But he knew she wouldn’t want to hear any of them, wouldn’t accept them, or would think they were stupid.

He only did what he’d known his whole life: once you’ve found a good woman, you claimed her as yours. A man was only as good as the woman at his back.

His parents might not be living the life, but as the stories go, his father had claimed his mother just the same. As far as he knew, they were still happy together. He hadn’t heard anything to the contrary.

“I didn’t think you’d have a good answer. Tell me, why do I want to be a part of something so freaking archaic? I mean, the little I’ve been around you all, I can see it. It’s the brotherhood, then your bikes, then the bitches. I assume I’m in that last category, or would be if I was your ‘woman.’”

He shook his head. “It’s not like that for everyone, babe. It’s not.”

“Seriously, what was this house mouse and sweet butt stuff Axel mentioned?” She lifted a palm before he could answer. “No. I can only imagine. I probably don’t want to know.”

“That ain’t you.”

“Maybe not. But they exist, right?”

She made a noise when he didn’t answer. She moved toward her kitchen, leaned a hip against the counter and crossed her arms over her breasts, effectively closing herself off from him. “Be honest with me, Zak, why do these Warriors have a beef with you?”

He shouldn’t tell her. He needed to keep club business just that. But she needed to know. She got caught up in the mess which meant she deserved an answer. She wasn’t a house mouse, she wasn’t a sweet butt, she wasn’t one of Dawg’s strippers. She was to be his ol’ lady. She would never agree to that if he wasn’t completely honest with her.

When he went to step closer, she held up a hand.

“I can hear you from there. Speak.”

He scrubbed a hand over his beard and sighed. “Began over territory. The Shadow Warriors were nomads. No home turf. Wanted to settle. Came through a sleepy town called Shadow Valley, felt that the name fit ‘em, I guess. Had no idea the Dirty Angels already established their mother club here. The club was small, still growing. But none of the originals were givin’ up the territory that the club claimed. Push came to shove, Bear ended up dead. Went back and forth for a while ‘til my uncle Rocky helped Doc take out a bunch of ‘em when they least expected it. They moved on but never forgot.”

“They’re the ones that set you up.”

Wasn’t a question, so he didn’t confirm her suspicion. “They show up now and again. Don’t know if they’re just ridin’ through or comin’ on purpose. Gotta feeling this was on purpose.”

“Them setting you up was on purpose, too.”

He tucked a thumb in his jean’s pocket, dipped his head to stare at the toe of his boot, and gathered his thoughts. He wanted this woman so much that it tore at his insides to see her putting up a wall because of shit the club has had to deal with for almost thirty years. Almost as long as both of them have been alive. They were both caught up in something neither of them had a hand in.

Axel was right; she didn’t deserve any of this. He was surrounded in shit. And she was so much better than shit. But he still needed to tell her the truth. He’d have to deal with whatever happens afterward.

Sophie steeled herself as the words continued to cross his lips.

“When I was prez, rule was not to engage ‘em. Be on the defensive, yeah. Be on the offensive, no. Don’t need the bloodshed that happened back in the seventies and eighties happenin’ again. Dead brothers, dead family, others servin’ life, might as well be dead. Got us nowhere fast. Things needed to change. I stepped up. Even though I was still wet behind the ears, they accepted me holdin’ the gavel. Had good brothers by my side. Changed things. Worked on making ‘em better. Strengthened the club, expanded, filled the coffers so we all could live good. Warriors want what they don’t have. We wanna keep what we worked hard for.”

“But I’m not part of the club.” She meant this as a reminder to him. But, in all honestly, it was more of a reminder to herself.

“Babe, the moment I dragged you upstairs, you became a part of the club. I claimed you.”

Dragged. Claimed. She felt like she’d fallen in some parallel universe. One she couldn’t pull herself out of.

“Claimed me.” She shook her head and laughed bitterly. “You guys act like there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing archaic about it.” She pulled the imaginary knife out of her heart and threw it at him, hoping to cut him just as deep. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be some man’s property.” This needed to end. So she went for the kill. “Especially a biker’s.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Biker’s not good enough,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, then hooking it around the back of his neck and squeezing.

“You chose this life. I,” she pounded her palm against her chest, “didn’t. I don’t want to live this way. I refuse to live this way. To live in fear. To live in the shadow of a man who doesn’t see women as equals. Don’t make me give up my dream and go back home to Philly to get away from this shit you dragged me into.”

His eyes got hard as he rumbled, “You’re not goin’ anywhere.”

She didn’t want to go anywhere, but she might have no choice. “If my bakery ends up destroyed, I’ll have nothing left.”

“You got me.”

Her eyes bugged out, and she threw her hands up. “Great. Give up my lifelong dream for an ex-con biker. Sounds like solid planning for the future.”

“I can take care of you.”

She started to pace, but stopped dead and whirled on him. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to be taken care of. I’m not a piece of property.” She pointed at him. “You. Don’t. Own. Me. I’ve known you for less than a week... Fuck! I’ve been forced to have sex with you.”

He winced. “You weren’t forced.”

She talked over him, her arms swinging wildly. “I’ve been propositioned to sleep with a guy named Weasel!”

“What? I’m gonna kill that—”

She cut him off. “I was invited to a threesome in a bathroom. With another woman, by the way.”

“What?” His eyes narrowed. “Who? Why didn’t you tell me—”

She kept going, ignoring him. “My bakery was attacked. Not to mention, I was almost killed! Why would I want any of that?” She began to pace again. “What’s next? Am I going to be kidnapped? Held for ransom?”

He held out a hand the next time she walked by him. “Babe.” She swatted it away.

“And I have a name!” she practically shrieked. “It’s Sophie, goddamn it!” She paced some more. “It’s not like I love it but it’s mine. This bakery is mine. And I’m my own person. I’ve survived the last thirty-three years without you taking care of me and will survive another thirty-three.” She halted abruptly and turned, hands on her hips. “So let me use words you’ll understand...” She pointed to the door. “Get gone!”

Zak closed his eyes and dropped his head. “Don’t do this, Sophie,” he said quietly to his boots.

“Don’t make me call SVPD and have them physically remove you, Zak. Because I’m sure that Axel would love to do just that.”

His head came up, the pain deep within his eyes. “Don’t do this, Sophie,” he repeated softly.

Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, steeling herself from the hurt in his, and inhaled deeply. Even with her eyes closed, she couldn’t rid herself of seeing the tightness around his mouth, the defeat in the curve of his shoulders.

She opened them. He hadn’t moved. “Go live your life, Zak. You’re free now. Stay that way.”

“Not a life without you.”

Her heart squeezed painfully, and she did a slow blink, fighting back the sting. “You’ve only known me for five days.”

“Knew you the minute I saw you,” he whispered.

It killed her when he said things like that. He knew how to play with her heart, her emotions. “You thought I was a stripper,” she said, reminding herself how they met.

“Wouldn’t have mattered to me if you were.”

Sophie groaned in frustration and turned away. “Get gone, Zak,” she said quietly.

“At least let Diesel finish your security system.”

She nodded but couldn’t face him. “I’ll find a way to pay him.”

Silence met her and when she finally turned she realized he “got gone.”

She should be relieved. But for some insane reason, she wasn’t.