Free Steel 5: Blackthorne MC#5 by Carrie Cox

1

    Ella
    We left the Blackthorne club at first light. My eyes were bleary, and I couldn’t stop yawning. Nick passed me a helmet, and I pulled it on over my hair, which was still damp from the shower.  
    It wasn’t exactly a good look. But there was no way I was risking my life to ride this bike.
    It appeared that some of the other bikers viewed helmets as optional. Still, that was the least of my problems. I wasn’t going to worry about their road safety.
    Both Chad and Tom were quiet and grumpy. I tried not to read too much into it. I put it down to the fact that they didn’t function well in the mornings.
    Jackson was the last to join us. We were packed up and ready to go when he strolled out into the parking lot.  
    He didn’t wear all leather like Chad, Tom and Nick. He wore blue jeans, a white T-shirt and a leather jacket.  
    He looked good, and he knew it.  
    As he walked over to his bike, he gave me a slow smile. I scowled at him in response. I still hadn’t forgiven him for not helping Nick.
    I turned back to Nick and saw the line of tattoos peeping out from his T-shirt. He looked damn hot as he straddled the black and chrome bike. He reached out a hand and smiled in a way that triggered butterflies in my stomach as he helped me onto the back of the bike.  
    I shifted forward, enjoying the feeling of my body pressed against his. He was safe and reassuring.  
    But I didn’t hold onto him too tightly. He was still badly bruised and in pain from his beating.  
    I bit down on my lip as I felt a rush of anger pass through me. I’d started to feel some kind of connection with Chad, Tom and even Jackson, but the fact that none of them had lifted a finger to help Nick when Victor decided to punish him, had made me realize that we weren’t all friends here.  
    Everyone was out for themselves.
    Nick started up the bike, and I felt the vibrations run through me from the powerful engine. I gripped his leather jacket as we prepared to set off. I don’t know what made me do it, but I glanced over my shoulder, back towards the club, and I was sure I saw a movement in one of the windows.
    The light was hitting the windowpane, which made it hard for me to identify who it was, but I was sure somebody was watching us from the window.  
    It made me uneasy.  
    Who the hell would have chosen to get up at this time of the morning if they didn’t need to?
    Nick revved the engine, and as the bike began to move, I got a better view of the person standing in the window.
    It was Damien Blackthorne, and he didn’t look happy.
    Maybe he was just pissed that Victor hadn’t let him come on this job, but I couldn’t help thinking it was more than that.  
    Despite the layers I was wearing and the strengthening sun, I shivered.
    Our first stop was a strip joint. I guessed that was pretty predictable.  
    I climbed off the bike and stretched my stiff limbs. After pulling off my helmet, I did the best I could to tidy my hair by running my fingers through it. I knew my hair probably looked a hideous sight, especially as I’d put the helmet on while my hair was still wet.
    We’d ridden for a few hours, and it was now approaching lunchtime. The sun was blazing hot, so it was a welcome relief to get into the cool, darkness of the bar.
    When we entered, the hum of conversation fell away, and it seemed like everyone turned to look at us.  
    Jackson was standing next to me and he muttered, “They always react like this. They don’t trust us.”
    I couldn’t blame the people in the bar for their reaction. I think I would have reacted in exactly the same way to Victor Blackthorne’s crew.
    We walked forward as a group, towards the bar. And I was glad for the imposing figures of Chad and Tom flanking us. No one would take on a couple of guys like that through choice, unless they had suicidal tendencies.
    I felt Nick’s reassuring hand on my shoulder as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Are you okay?”
    I nodded and tried to