Page 13 of My Enemy Biker

I could call the sheriff. File a report. Get it on record.

Then what? They take a statement, maybe increase patrols for a week, and I'm officially the woman with MC problems.

Makes me a bigger target, not a smaller one…

Or I could call Cain.

Calling him means admitting I need help from his world. Means accepting that I'm already part of this whether I wanted to be. Means choosing him over legitimate authorities.

I sit there arguing with myself for five full minutes.

Then I pull out my phone and dial before I can reconsider.

He answers on the first ring. "Anna?"

Just my name but there's focus in it, immediate attention.

"Something happened." My voice is steadier than I feel. "Two men approached me in town. They knew my name, knew about the property, told me to be careful who I do business with. One had a scar across his throat."

Three seconds of silence. Then: "Are you hurt?"

"No. I'm home."

"Lock the doors, I'm coming."

The line goes dead.

I stare at my phone, astounded because that shouldn't be as comforting as it is.

I get out, grab my groceries, go inside. Lock the door behind me, deadbolt and chain. Put the groceries away because my hands need tasks. Check the windows, check the back door, stand in my kitchen trying to regulate my breathing.

Twenty-eight minutes after I called, his bike pulls up.

I open the door before he knocks. He's already scanning, checking the road, the property line, the tree line, back to me. Looking for threats.

"Inside," he says.

I step back. He enters, closes the door, locks it himself. Turns to face me and the cold precision in his eyes makes something in my chest tighten.

"Tell me exactly what happened."

I walk him through it. The two men, their positioning, what they said word for word, how they blocked my car. He listens without interrupting but I can see something happening behind his eyes, calculations being made.

"Scar across the throat is Sully," he says when I finish. "Marrow enforcer. Experienced. The younger one was probably a prospect." He pauses. "They know about you, about the property, about me."

"We're negotiating an easement. That's all."

His eyes lock on mine. "You kissed me back. That's not just an easement negotiation."

Heat flashes through me, anger and want tangled together. "That was a mistake."

"Was it?"

"Yes."

"You're lying."

"Get out."