JJ

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I heard a popping noise and then a man in leather burst from the hall. What the hell? I had no time to dive under the bar or really react at all. The man had a gun pointed at my face.

“Freeze.” And just as fast as he said it, he scrambled over the bar and had me by the arm. The barrel of his piece now made a dent in my temple. All of this took less than fifteen seconds from the fist pop to the shit I was now in.

“You be a smart gash now and keep your fucking mouth shut and follow my lead.”

The man dug his fingers into the flesh of my arm. It hurt but I dared not even wince.

An army of leather jackets rushed into the middle of the bar but the man stopped them from getting too close. By yelling.

“Don’t fucking try it!”

They all had guns trained on me and my captor.

I heard something about my brains being blown all over the bar. Shit. No one of them even knew me. I didn’t know them. I had no doubt I was nothing but the help to all of them.

None of these men had any connection to me. I had no hope. I was a dead woman standing. This fucking asshole had shot someone in that room and was using me as a shield, not a hostage.

Then I recognized Shep. He’d flirted with me. Maybe that was something. He put his hands out to stop the rest of the biker onslaught.

“Stop, Saints! Stop!” They all did as he said and then he looked at me. I felt like he was trying to communicate with me, maybe reassure me? Or was that what I wanted to think? I just knew I was scared. Less than a day’s work as A.J. Moss’s mole and I was going to wind up dead.

“I’m going to back out of here, nice and easy, and you’re all going to let me,” E.Z. said with steely calm.

“E.Z., let her go. She had nothing to do with this,” Shep said. E.Z. had me at gunpoint but it felt like Shep was the boss in this room. The Saints were following his lead. For me, that could mean survival.

“Nah, you’re not going to let this fresh thing get hurt, Shep. None of you are.” E.Z. tugged me along. We moved closer and closer to the door.

Shep tried to take a step forward and E.Z. screamed at him.

“Don’t fucking try it!”

He moved his hand from my arm to my throat. I thought I’d gag or pass out from how tight it was. But that gave him a buffer. The rest of the club members froze in place. E.Z. dragged me to the door.

We headed for a burnt orange truck in the parking lot. I knew one thing. I was not letting him take me anywhere. He would have to shoot me here versus wherever else he had in mind. I might be small – hell, young too – but I was smart enough to know, if he got me alone, this man would have no choice but to kill me.

We got closer and closer to the truck. My mind raced. How could I get free with a gun to my head, without risking a bullet fired into my brain?

I was going to have to risk getting shot here. It seemed preferable than dying in some shitty ditch on a Texas backroad.

He had me at the passenger door. He kept a firm grip on one arm and the gun was now at my side. I saw the door of the club open and the bikers emerge. E.Z. had a moment of distraction, and that was my window.

I reached for the door handle but then, as fast and as hard as I could, I used my free hand to jab my finger in the man’s eye.

“Ugh,” E.Z. yelled and let go of my arm. I bolted. I heard a shot. It was loud. There was a ringing in my ears, but I didn’t care. I ran as fast as I could away from that man and his truck. I ran toward the MC and didn’t look back.

Dust kicked up everywhere and I knew E.Z. had decided not to chase me. If he was smart, he was driving in the opposite direction of the club. I didn’t know any of these men, but each one was bigger and badder than the next.

Saints were rushing toward me and I could only pick out one face.

Shep. His name was Shep. He was handsome, powerful, and had a beautiful smile. And he seemed like he gave a damn even though I was a stranger.

He got to me first and held my arms in his.

“JJ, oh my God. Are you okay?”

This man that I’d just met, all leather and muscle and swagger, looked at me like I was a China Doll, not the ex-con tough girl I was on the outside.

“I’m okay, what was…?”

“Shit, you’re bleeding sweetheart.”

I had no idea where or why. I looked down and saw a dark stain on my t-shirt.

I put my hand to it. The blood was bright red and coming from my side. It didn’t really hurt.

“What?”

“That fucker shot you!”

Shep scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing. I was feeling dizzy; my heart wanted to beat but didn’t know how to do it right.

The bikers made way for Shep. He moved me through the bar, and beyond it. I didn’t have a context for where I was anymore. Things were getting foggy. How could it be? I wasn’t in pain? I would have thought getting shot would hurt more than this did.

“I didn’t feel it.”

“You were brave as fuck. It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

I struggled to stay awake, to stay alert, but it was impossible.

“Don’t take me to the doctor, I’m okay. I don’t have insurance.”

I started to panic. I needed to cut through the haze. Getting shot at a biker bar on my first day out of prison. Would I be in some sort of trouble?

“Shep, Tracy’s here.”

A pretty woman, who if I was being honest, looked like Snow White or something, introduced herself.

“I’m a nurse, let me look.”

“It grazed her, didn’t even go in,” Tracy said to Shep. He still had my hand.

“I’m fine, really I am.”

I struggled to sit up and finally felt the sting along my side.

“It didn’t go in, but you have a grazing wound there, some blood, and we need to clean it up.”

“I don’t think she needs an ambulance, but I can drive her to the E.R. if I think it’s needed. You go be with Bear,” Tracy the nurse said to Shep.

“NO! No hospital. I don’t have insurance. Just, can you put a bandage on it?”

Tracy The Snow White Nurse looked me over again.

“Yes, I can.”

“I’ll pay for whatever she needs. Take her if you think she needs the E.R.”

“I’m really fine, I just got a little woozy for second. I’m fine.”

Shep had no reason to be this worried about me. But there was a furrow in his brow and he couldn’t stop looking at me like I would break. I was fine. I started telling myself that and it started to be true.

“You’re really okay?” he asked me again.

“Totally, plus, I know where they keep the good whiskey, remember?”

I wanted the fuss over me to be over.

“I think she’s right, Shep. I can dress this here. It really is just a scrape, amazingly lucky,” Tracy said. “I think you need to go, now. Mama Bear is going to need you more than Papa Bear.”

Snow White? Mama Bear? Maybe I’d hit my head some time in the chaotic of the last few minutes.

“I have to go, JJ. You do exactly as Tracy says, exactly.”

“Yep, got it, boss.”

He looked at me and leaned over and kissed my forehead. The toughest looking biker I’d ever laid eyes on kissed me on the forehead. I felt a warmth, and a calm, even though a virtual stranger had just made this intimate gesture. Kissing me on the forehead.

Shep stood up. I watched his long legs, his fluid stride as he walked out of the room.

Tracy opened a medical bag.

“We’re just going to clean this up and put a light bandage on. Your arm feel okay?”

I realized there was a bruise forming in the shape of E.Z.’s fingers.

“It’s okay.”

I looked down. The blood that had appeared initially has already stopped.

“Some first day at The MC, eh?”

“Yeah. Oh shit!”

“What? Something else I need to check out?”

“No, this is my favorite t-shirt and it’s stained.”

The t-shirt and the jacket were the only things I had from before I went inside.

“A little cold water right after we get you fixed up and it will come out.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

“I know how to get blood out – you marry a Dark Saint, it’s like, in the manual.”

So this woman was married to one of the men out there. It was funny to think of any of them domesticated.

“Oh, uh, great.”

Tracy finished her work and ordered me to go home and rest.

I slipped away from the club, from all the new faces, from the chaos that my Uncle had forced me into.

I knew I needed to be back at my apartment, so I could call him and tell him exactly what had gone down at The Dark Saint’s MC.

I knew I should let him know that the one person who was supposed to be his main spy and my contact, had shot me, shot the club Prez, and was fucking burned as hell.

But I also couldn’t shake the feeling that if Shep was supposed to be the enemy, why did I feel more connected to him than anyone else on the planet at this very moment?