Page 39 of Framed for Life
I don’t hear the rest, I’m bopping back up the steps into the clubhouse where Taylor Swift’s on the radio now.
The chaos has transformed into gigantic trays of food, including a bunch of chocolate stuff which I’m now very suspicious of.
“Katie, can you carry those burgers to the grill?” one woman calls.
“On it.”
Warmth spreads in my chest. It feels good to be here. Crazy, but good, and these women don’t seem to mind the help at all. They seem to be taking it in stride that I was dragged in here by an over-protective biker. I’m smiling as I head outside. The sun is setting as I hustle toward the row of grills. Tiki torches are being lit. Rowdy cheers are going up from near a fire pit.
After putting the burgers down, I spot Skull. He’s watching me like a guard dog. It’s a little thrilling.
Okay a lot. I’ve never ever dreamed of a man being so taken with me that he’d beat other men up for looking at me. It makes me feel pretty.
Blushing, I give him a wink and return to the kitchen as he toasts his friends.
It takes a while for all the food to be transferred outside, but we fall into a steady rhythm. I’m carrying a tray loaded with hot wings when a strange light brightens up the grassy area in front of me.
“Incoming!” someone shouts.
Chapter Twenty-One
I’m momentarily blinded. The tray flies from my hands, the explosion knocks me sideways. “Ah!” I yelp when a huge body collides with me.
“Get down!”
It’s Skull’s voice and he breathing like a bull, and I’d know it was him without him saying a word. His body has a certain feel. Gigantic and warm.
I haven’t even had time to freak out yet but when I peek from below his shoulder, it’s chaos. Fire spreads across the grass. People are running. Motorcycle engines are roaring to life.
“What’s happening?” I squeak trying to breathe below his brutally heavy weight.
“The fucking mob. Bastards threw a Molotov cocktail over the fence.”
He’s on the phone a second later. “On it,” he growls to whoever is on the other end and hangs up
“We’re moving.” Skull drags me off the ground and carries me to the clubhouse, shouting for the women to follow.
“Women inside now!”
Over his shoulder, I watch the other club male members scrambling to put out the fire and shoot at whoever’s out there.
It feels like a movie scene is unfolding around me. For the kind of movies I never watch.
Skull, tromping across the grounds like a big modern Viking-warrior in leather and denim, leads the way to the basement.
None of the other women are talking. Some are armed with guns and look like they know how to use them. The whole thing goes with the apocalyptic movie scene outside and here I am in my sundress and white boots with my hair hanging out of my ponytail.
Skull pins me with a look as he brushes a gigantic hand over my head.
”Stay here. Lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone that’s not the old man to one of these women.”
He kisses me hard, gripping my head in his palm as he does, and storms out the door with his gun drawn.
I’m.
That all just happened. Twice today I’ve been in an armed conflict. Stunned, with my legs a little weak, and my heart struggling to keep up, I stand in the middle of the floor while a woman rushes to the door.
She lock all of the deadbolts before she turns to the group. “I’m Reva. Grenade, the president of Kings of Darkness MC, Broken Wheel Chapter is my husband.”
