CHAPLAIN DARK ANGELS MC
REAGAN PHILLIPS
Copyright © 2024 by Reagan
Phillips
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Motorcycle engines roar through the night air as I walk across the darkened parking lot and toward our meeting location. Turning the corner, a group of bikers are dismounting motorcycles and gathering by the clubhouse's side door. I immediately recognize the Dark Angel's colors and insignia on their cuts and vests. They are the same as the ones Luca texted with this address. I take a deep breath and continue forward, resisting the urge to tug self-consciously at my dress.
The one who wears the president patch on his chest steps forward to meet me, his expression partly obscured by a black helmet. He looks me over curiously before removing it, revealing a rugged face with sharply handsome features surrounded by closecut dark hair.
"Eden?" He asks in a gravelly voice.
I nod, extending a hand. "That's me. You must be Ronnie."
His large hand engulfs mine in a firm shake. Before he can reply, my gaze drifts over his shoulder to the man behind him. He is tall
and powerfully built, with thick golden brown hair combed flat down the middle and shaved sides. His piercing green eyes lock on mine, and something electric passes between us. I have to stop myself from visibly reacting.
Ronnie notices where I'm looking and glances back. "That's Diesel, our Chaplain," Ronnie says, gesturing to the man behind him." Hope you don't mind him sitting in."
I manage to tear my eyes away, hoping I'm not blushing. "Not at all," I reply as steadily as I can.
This meeting just got a lot more interesting.
Ronnie gestures for me to follow him inside. I can't help stealing another glance at Diesel as I pass him. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down my spine, and for the first time since accepting this job, I'm less worried about the details and more about who I'm selling my soul to.
The clubhouse interior is dimly lit and hazy, with lingering smoke and the smell of stale beer. Members lounge around tables, most with a woman either in their lap, sitting wide-legged on the table in front of them, or on their knees. I look away as soon as I figure out that situation, and at my back comes a low, muted growl from their chaplain. He must have noticed how quickly I snapped my attention to their leader's back.
Ronnie leads me into what looks like their meeting room, the table at the center engraved with the club's name and insignia. The place is immaculate, and as Diesel enters behind us and shuts the door, I feel a world away from the scene I saw outside.
Ronnie motions to a chair across from him, and I sit.
“Thanks for coming out to meet with us. When Luca told us his niece could help with our problem, I figured it was best to discuss business face to face."
I nod. "No problem. My uncle explained a little about the situation - that you've been having trouble with a rival club, and you want to see what you can dig up as leverage on them."
Ronnie nods as he leads me toward the back room.
"The Iron Demons," he says. "Luca's helped us out in the past, so when he said you had skills that could give us an edge on them, I
was inclined to trust his recommendation."
"Well, I won't let him or you down," I reply, though after what I've just witnessed, I'm not sure the on-site part of this gig is worth the payout.
Ronnie gives me an assessing look. "You sure about that?"
Something in his calculated stare has me second-guessing. Then I make the mistake of glancing beside him and find Diesel's glare twice as intimidating yet holding an entirely different kind of threat. "You need dirt, I'm your girl."
Ronnie's frown fades. "Good to hear. Luca said you can hack without leaving a trace. We need whatever intel you can dig up on the Iron Demons discreetly."
I fight back a smile from my uncle's bragging. "So, what's the job?"
Ronnie nods. "The Iron Demons have been encroaching on our territory, trying to muscle in on our businesses. We recently had a...disagreement that got violent. We need ammunition to strike back."
"What exactly did you have in mind for me to do?" I ask.
Diesel speaks up, his voice a smooth baritone that sends a tingle through me. "We need anything we can use as leverage. Logistics on their operations, connections, leaders. Proof they're stepping beyond the code of honor among clubs."
I consider for a moment. Clubs and outlaws are more of my uncle's thing. He promised me if he taught me how to hack to earn a living, I'd be straight about it. "I should be able to hack into their communications and transactions, do some deep data mining to find weak spots."
"What exactly will you be looking at?" Diesel's deep voice matches the darkness in his eyes.
I meet his gaze. "Financial records, cell phone data, police databases, weapons registries, offshore bank accounts."
"All that?" Ronnie questions.
I don't look away from the brooding man who matches my gaze with his heated one. "You'd be surprised how big of a digital footprint one person leaves behind."
Ronnie leans forward, intrigued. "And you can do all that without the trail leading back to us?"
"I know how to cover my tracks," I reply with a flicker of a smile to Ronnie.
"So, do we have a deal?" Ronnie asks.
I'm about to say yes when Diesel stands. He looms over me, a towering figure in a leather jacket branded with patches and stitched symbols. His strong jaw is set in a stern expression, and a quiet storm lurks behind his brooding moss-green eyes, barely restrained. I make the mistake of looking at him, and my breath catches as we stare at one another, electricity arcing between us.
"I don't think this is a good idea," Diesel says gruffly, ignoring my presence. "This is club business - we shouldn't involve an outsider."
Ronnie rubs his chin. "Then what's your plan?"
Diesel's fist slams into the table so hard I rock back on instinct. "We wait for Luca."
His words make my hackles rise. Despite being shocked by his sudden outburst, I stand and face him. "Why, because you don't think a woman can handle it?" I shoot back.
Diesel's jaw ticks. He avoids eye contact. "This has nothing to do with you being a woman. Getting mixed up with the Iron Demons is dangerous, no matter who you are."
"I'm not afraid of a little danger," I say defiantly.
Diesel leans forward, his piercing eyes fixed on mine. If we were alone, I'd swear the sudden parting of his lips wasn't so he could speak. "Maybe you should be. I've seen what Iron Demons do to their belongings." He takes a step closer, and all the air in the room evaporates as he takes my chin between his fingers. "What you couldn't stand to watch outside that door is a fucking amusement park ride compared to how they'd take a sweet ass like you."
A shiver goes through me at his proximity and words, but I hold my ground. "Is that concern I hear? If it is, I'll just remind you who my uncle is. Anyone fool enough to mess with me will have Luca Vitale up their ass."
He steps back, looking none too pleased by my observation.
"She makes a good point," Ronnie chimes in.
I watch Diesel's jaw tighten before he answers. "It's your call to make, prez."
He trails off pointedly. I keep my chin up and turn to Ronnie. "I can handle the Iron Demons."
A flicker of what might have been admiration passes through Diesel's gaze. It gives me a little thrill, as does our charged backand-forth. As dangerous as this situation is, I have to admit I like seeing this commanding, intense man back down from me.
"Alright then," Ronnie breaks in. "We're trusting you on this, Eden. Don't fuck it up, or it'll be your ass on the line."
I tear my eyes away from Diesel with some reluctance. "I won't," I promise.
Ronnie exchanges a look with Diesel, whose subtle nod approves, but the rest of his rigid body screams no. Ronnie turns back to me and extends his hand once more. "Deal. Let's take down those Iron Demon bastards."
I shake firmly, sealing the deal. My heart quickens as I catch Diesel's gaze again from across the table. This is going to be an interesting job.
The roar of engines and raucous laughter filter through the clubhouse walls as I make my way to the chapel office. It's just another rowdy Saturday night for the Dark Angels, but I have church business to handle before I kick back with the others. The perks of being Chaplain - always more responsibilities to juggle to keep everyone in line.
I flip on the light and get settled behind my heavy oak desk, mismatched with the faded posters and dingy metal filing cabinets lining the walls. It's not much to look at, but it's my own private space to handle club affairs, and the roughness of it suits me.
As always, my initiation picture hanging above my head demands my attention, and I grimace at it. Ten years ago, I was just another grunt prospect working to earn my top rocker. A retired army vet, just looking for a way to reacclimatize to civilian life, the Dark Angels took me in, and I settled into the easy life of being a patched member.
That was until Ronnie took over as Prez and demanded I be his Chaplain. If he'd only known the fuck-up I'd become, he could have saved us both a lot of trouble and left me the hell alone.
Pushing those nagging doubts aside, I opened the chaplain's logbook. I might as well get the boring stuff out of the way first. I start noting last week's issues and disputes that need discussion at church, skimming past the usual fines for drunken disorderlies and misuse of property, which sends my mind racing back our conversation with the hacker. My mind fumes at her disregard for her own safety as my pen scratches steadily, and I catch myself writing her name. Eden.
I stop, staring at the curve of the E, the loop of the d and wondering if her body is as curvy under that modest dress. Man, I can't get that woman out of my head tonight.
From the moment I first saw her in that alley, something about her drew me in. Maybe it was the fierce determination in her eyes or the way she held herself with such confidence despite being outnumbered by a group of bikers.
No. I know exactly why I can't get our new little hacker out of my head. I've known grown-ass men twice her size who wouldn't have stood up to me like she did. Unmoved by size or rank or fear. And that sharp tongue she fires off when riled up… I've never met someone so bold and fierce in how they carry themselves. She seems near instructable, and the way I go through people, she'd have to be to survive me.
Fuck. Who am I kidding? That woman could own me. She'd never be one of the sweetbutts crawling along the floor, begging for a damn handout and attention. She'd sit on my lap like it was her fucking throne, and she was the queen of everything. She'd rule me, and I can't help the smile that forms at the thought of worshiping at her altar.
Glass breaks somewhere out in the lounge, and the yells and laughter kick up a notch, reminding me this clubhouse is no castle. I scratch out her name and keep working, but even as I try to focus on the task at hand, I can't completely ignore the nagging thoughts of Eden that keep creeping into my mind. This is no place for a
woman like Eden, and Luca did a piss poor job of teaching her about our lifestyle if she thinks any of what she said today was safe. I should teach her that lesson. Save us both the trouble.
I toss out that dangerous thought and decide I need some air. Grabbing my smokes, I head outside, hoping the night breeze will clear my fevered mind.
The thud of the closing door muffles the ongoing party within. Out here, the parking lot is quiet, with only a few brothers shooting the shit by a row of bikes. I lean against the wall and light up, drawing the smoke deep into my lungs as I look at the hazy night sky.
My solitude lasts all of a minute before a familiar voice calls out, "Chap! You hiding out?" I look over to see Luca Vitale headed my way, arms spread wide. Though he never wore a patch, Luca's been affiliated with the Angels for years. He and Ronnie ran the streets as kids back in the day, and the relationship never faded. Luca gives me a hearty slap on the back as he joins me against the wall.
"You're a hard man to track down tonight, Diesel," Luca says, grinning. "Been wanting to chat since I sent my niece your way yesterday."
At the mention of Eden, I shift my stance, unable to fully hide my interest. "Yeah? What about?" I ask, trying to sound casual. Too casual, judging by the knowing glint in Luca's eyes.
"Just wanted to touch base, brother. Make sure you understand what you've got on your hands with Eden." He leans in conspiratorially. "Now, I may be biased, her being blood and all, but that girl's skills are something else. A wizard with code and tech. I taught her everything I know, but she's got some natural knack for this shit that goes beyond my skills."
I nod along. "No doubts there. That brain of hers seems sharp as a blade."
"You better believe it," Luca laughs. "And stubborn as all hell, too. Learned young to rely on no one but herself." His face softens a bit then. "Lost her parents early on, bounced around foster care for years. But she's a fighter - clawed her way to the top, same as me."
I stay silent, letting this new glimpse into Eden's past sink in. A bubble of anger rises in me, imagining her fending for herself as a kid. But stronger is a sense of kinship. We've traveled different paths, but I recognize that dogged determination never to be at the mercy of fate again. I can't deny my growing respect for her.
"Point is," Luca continues, "you couldn't ask for someone better qualified to dig up intel on those Iron Demon bastards. My niece will get you what you need and then some."
"I don't doubt that either," I reply. And I mean it - "Eden left one hell of an impression yesterday. Once she sunk her teeth into this, I have a feeling she'll be a force to reckon with." However, this complicated attraction plays out, and having her work this job is a stroke of brilliance. Though I'll never tell Luca, his bragging is warranted.
We chat some more about club politics and business opportunities. Luca mentions the big job taking him out to California for the month, which is why he offered up Eden in his stead.
After a while, I part ways with Luca and head back inside just as Ronnie returns from wherever he disappeared to earlier. It's evident from his loose swagger and glazed eyes that drinking, not church duties, has occupied his time tonight.
"Chaplain!" Ronnie booms, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "There you are. Come do a shot."
I let him steer me to the bar, where I oblige his request, hoping the liquor would numb the buzz Eden put in my head. The others have really cut loose tonight. Music blares as an impromptu dance party occupies the common area. Ronnie scans the revelry with a smile.
"Quite a crew we've built, ain't it?" He remarks. "Never seen the club running so smooth."
I follow his gaze, a swell of pride rising through the haze of a second shot. He isn't wrong - since Ronnie stepped up as president,
the Dark Angels have expanded operations and boosted morale clubwide. We're stronger than ever. But that growth came with its own share of headaches I've had to navigate these past months.
"Smoothest it's been since the Leeds Park incident," I reply pointedly. Ronnie tenses at the mention of the clash with a rival crew last spring that left three wounded. Not our finest hour. And it's mostly my fault.
"Hey now, we came out on top of that rat-infested bunch," Ronnie says defensively. But I can tell my weighted words hit their mark as intended. He scrubs a hand over his beard, regarding me seriously now.
"Point taken though, brother. Keeping tensions from boiling over again is priority one. S'why we need this Eden situation handled smartly. By the code, not emotions." His stare bores into me, and I brace myself against the warning there. Ronnie sees more than he lets on.
I tip back another burning shot, buying time to collect myself. "Trust me, Prez, I got no trouble keeping work and feelings separate," I reply evenly. "We need what she can do for the club. That's all this arrangement is."
Ronnie searches my face a moment longer before breaking into a grin and punching my shoulder. "No matter the sacrifice. The job gets done." His attention drifts back to the party as a drunk brother leaps onto a table, kicking drinks onto a group of ol'ladies, including his Arya. Ronnie shakes his head, chuckling.
"Alright, I better go handle that before a brawl erupts. You take it easy tonight, Chaplain." He heads off, diffusing the situation with booming laughter and friendly threats. No one can whip even the unruliest member into line like Ronnie can. Nagging insecurity rides up again, watching him work the room so effortlessly.
Shaking myself from gloomy thoughts, I weave my way toward the member's rooms, ready to call it a night.
I've got prep work to do tomorrow before Eden arrives. I might as well be sharp for it. Though as I crawl into my bunk, sleep eludes me for hours. I can't stop picturing that fierce gaze and hearing that
quick laugh. Wondering what dress her dress covered and how it'd feel to run my fingers underneath.
Finally, I drift off dreaming of a girl who's nothing but trouble for me yet occupies every fucking corner of my mind.
Eden
The throaty rumble of my uncle's Gran Torino echoes down the street as we pull up outside the Dark Angels' clubhouse. I take a steadying breath and grab my tech bag before stepping out onto the curb. No matter how many times I've seen them, those motorcycle logos on the compound walls never fail to quicken my pulse.
Luca meets me on the sidewalk, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Ready for this, kid?"
I lift my chin, hoping I look more confident than I feel. "Born ready." He smiles knowingly and ushers me toward the entrance. Once we reach the door, I pause before opening it. "You know," I turn to Luca, who's smiling like he's the one with the new job. "You didn't have to drive me. I'm going to hold my own here."
His grin turns soft as he brushes my bangs off my forehead. "I trust these men with my life." He gives me a playful head shake. "But not with my most prized employee. This visit is just a little extra insurance so everyone knows who you belong to."
As annoying as it is, my cheeks heat at the severity of Luca's voice.
"Besides," Luca starts, reaching over my head for the door. "It won't hurt to make an appearance before leaving town."
I've barely set foot inside when I spot Diesel across the club room, leaning casually against the bar. Our eyes meet with that now familiar jolt of electricity.
Luca crosses the room and greets Diesel with a back-slapping hug. "Brought your tech expert back, all setup and ready to crack some skulls."
Diesel's lips quirk. "Skulls might be overstating it. Information gathering only, alright?" His glance at me carries a hint of warning but also amusement.
I offer an innocent shrug. "I'll be on my best behavior, Girl Scouts honor."
"Somehow, I doubt you were ever a scout," Diesel replies, chuckling. "Come on back, I'll show you your new office. Ronnie's in the chapel," he says over his shoulder to Luca.
Diesel leads me down a dim hallway, his hand resting lightly on my back. The subtle contact sends little sparks dancing across my skin. I try not to focus too much on the warmth of his palm through my shirt or the play of the muscles in his forearm. But I'm only human.
As we move, I can't help but notice the faded paint on the walls and the worn carpet underfoot. The clubhouse may not be much to look at, but it's home to the Dark Angels, and I can feel the weight of their history and traditions everywhere I go.
I glimpse Diesel's face, noting the day-old stubble darkening his jaw. Faint shadows under his eyes make me wonder if he slept as poorly as I did last night. I feel an involuntary pull low in my core, a desire to smooth away the marks of that restlessness from his gorgeous face.
Staying detached around this man will be more challenging than I'd hoped. Not when the brush of his fingers ignites my skin, even through layers of clothing. I can only imagine what more purposeful contact might do.
I quickly push that enticing thought aside, my heart already racing and my cheeks still hot from Luca's words. I have a feeling Diesel might be my biggest challenge yet. One I should avoid at all costs. Though I can't deny part of me is eager to give it my best shot and see what irresistible secrets might come spilling out.
No matter how hard I try, I can't stop focusing on where our bodies touch as the hallway narrows to a single closed door.
When I stop at it, Diesel reaches around me and turns the knob to reveal an impressive tech office. One wall is covered with shelves of servers, all buzzing in unison. Against another wall sits a large desk outfitted with multiple monitors, specialized keyboards, stateof-the-art processors, and a gaming chair I can sit in for hours without feeling muscle strain.
The level of detail in this room is impressive, and I can't help but feel a mix of gratitude and nervousness, knowing that I'll be working with such high-quality equipment.
I let out an appreciative whistle. "Damn, you guys went all out. This is prime equipment."
Diesel nods approvingly, a pleased expression spreading across his face as he sees my excitement. "We aim to please. Luca wouldn't accept anything less than top-of-the-line. He picked most of it out himself."
"That explains a lot." I pick up the zero-day exploit kit. "How did you even find this stuff? It's only available on the black market."
"Your uncle made a list and demanded the best." Diesel leans one massive forearm on the filing cabinet by my side.
I trail my fingers over the expensive rigs, imagining the digital depths I can plumb with these. "I could get used to this kind of treatment," I muse aloud.
"I hope you don't."
There's an undercurrent in Diesel's voice that makes me glance up. Our eyes meet, and the air suddenly feels charged with electricity as I sense we're both very aware of being alone behind a closed door.
"I'm not entirely sure what you mean by that," I say, wishing I hadn't looked up into his brooding stare because now I'm stuck,
unable to look away and admit defeat. "Was that meant as an insult or a warning?"
"Neither." His massive hand comes down on the back of the office chair. His knuckles turn white from the force he's using to keep ahold of himself. Is it me that has him so unnerved? "Look, Eden. Your uncle's a very trusting man." His jaw tightens. "Maybe a little too trusting. When you're with Ronnie or me, no one will think of touching you." His eyes lock on mine, and he leans closer. So close my lips tingle with the thought of his brushing along them. "But when we aren't around, you aren't guaranteed that protection. Out there, you're just another piece of property to be claimed. Understand what I'm saying?"
I try to meet the intensity of his gaze with my own, but it's impossible to look at this massive man and not feel humbled by his presence. "Completly."
Diesel clears his throat, taking a subtle step back. "Good, I'll leave you to get set up. Let me know if you need anything."
"Will do." My voice cuts off my comment as the words stick in my throat. Did Diesel just call me property?
He lingers a moment, looking like he wants to say something more. But finally just gives a nod and backs out of the room. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me staring after him for a loaded beat.
With a shake of my head, I try to clear my muddled thoughts and focus on the expensive tech before me. But all I can think about is Diesel's hand on my back, how his presence took up the entire office, and the heat in his eyes just now. This assignment will require all of my focus and self-control if I hope to avoid his magnetic pull.
Sitting down at the main terminal, I crack my knuckles dramatically before diving in. It's time to put Diesel behind me and see what secrets I can dig up on the Demons. But even as code streams across the screens, part of my mind lingers on a few minutes ago, imagining what might have happened if Diesel hadn't left when he did. My thoughts drift dangerously until I force myself to concentrate.
One thing is clear - staying detached around that man will take every ounce of willpower I possess. And possibly more. But I've never been one to back down from a challenge. I don't intend to start now.
Diesel
It's past midnight when I finish my club paperwork in the dimly lit chapel office. Stifling a yawn, I lean back to stretch my stiff shoulders. It's been a long day, and it's time for some shuteye. As I make my way down the shadowy hall, I notice a thin strip of light glowing under the door to Eden's makeshift workroom. At this late hour, she must be the only nonmember still here.
Ronnie warned her about keeping late hours in the club. A fact I've also reminded her about. But she insists she's a big girl and can take care of a few rowdy members who may get the idea to put a claim on her. I consider heading straight to bed and letting her deal with what comes her way, but the allure of seeing Eden, even briefly, is too great to ignore. I tap softly on the door before shoving it with my shoulder.
The door swings open, revealing Eden looking tired but content, surrounded by the glow of computer screens. She gives me a little smile. "Hey, Diesel."
I cross my arms. "Didn't Ronnie give you a curfew?"
She unfolds herself from where she's sitting crosslegged in the office chair and glances at her phone. "Shit. I was following some data trails while the system traffic is low and lost track of time."
I can't help but snarl at her lack of self-preservation. "There's a reason he wants you out of the clubhouse before it gets too late, Eden."
"I know," she answers, her voice full of annoyance as she begins shutting down monitors. "But hacker hours aren't dictated by your club rules. I have to hit when I can, and the middle of the workday isn't going to cut it for what you guys want."
"Then you need to tell me when you're staying late."
Eden stops packing her bag and pegs me with a stare. "What. So you can beat members away from my door? Is this place really that barbaric?"
If any of the members feel the way I do about Eden, it will take a fucking army to stop them from storming her door. "No. But the rules here are different than what you're used to."
"And you're here to keep me safe." She cuts me off before throwing a strap over her shoulder. "For the hundredth time, I've got it." She rolls her neck, trying to work out a kink, and I fight the urge to reach for her neck.
"Let me walk you out to your car when you wrap up," I offer, telling myself it's another safety measure even though I'm the only member left in the club she should be worried about.
Eden's glare deepens. Just give me five minutes to shut everything down, and I'll be out of your hair."
I nod in answer and retreat down the hall to wait, pulse already quickening. We've been alone here plenty of times over the last week without issue. Usually, I finish my work around dinner and show Eden out before most of the members arrive for food and drinks.
By the time the partying begins, she's long gone.
But tonight, something has the hairs on my neck standing at attention. I'm not sure if it's the way she defies my orders with little care for her own well-being or how she tests my patients. But soon,
something's going to snap, and she's going to wish she hadn't pushed so hard.
I push aside the tempting thought. This is just a simple walk to Eden's car, nothing more.
Still, eagerness coils inside me at the prospect of having her all to myself.
Five minutes later, Eden appears around the corner and gestures for me to follow her out. We head down the dark hallway side by side, shoulders nearly touching in the narrow space, even if she does her best to ignore me.
I catch a whiff of her floral perfume mixing with the ever-present scent of leather and oil that permeates the clubhouse. The usual tension settles over us, and I'm hyper-aware of her every movement, the way her hips sway inches from me. I can't lie; my mind's straying into dangerous territory with thoughts I've got no business having about a woman under the club's protection.
As we reach the exit, Eden's hand accidentally brushes mine, sending a jolt up my arm. She glances up almost shyly. "Oops, sorry..."
"S'alright," I rasp. Her big doe eyes stare right through me in the dim light. Before I can think better of it, I reach out to tuck back a lock of hair that has fallen across her cheek. Probably crossing a line, but I let my fingertips graze her soft skin anyway.
Eden's eyes flutter shut at the contact, and she parts those sweet lips in a little sigh that goes straight to my cock. Everything in me screams to close the scant distance between us. Feel that mouth under mine. Back her against the nearest wall and show her why she should listen to the rules.
With great effort, I force myself to take a small step back and drop my hand. The Chaplain patch on my kutte feels suddenly heavy, a reminder of the code I vowed to live by. As much as I may want this woman here and now, I've got greater duties to the club that can't be compromised. Not even for her.
Clearing my throat gruffly, I put some professional distance between us again. "It's late."
Eden gives me an inscrutable look but pushes the door open without argument. The heated moment is broken for now. But as we step outside, she stops abruptly and turns to face me. The moonlight spilling over her upturned face steals my breath.
"What game are you playing with me, Diesel?" she asks softly, placing a hand over my pounding heart. "You might be fooling yourself, but I can see right through you."
I hesitate, warring with myself. "Eden, I..."
"You're the real threat in there." she presses gently. "Everyone sees it but you. "
A ragged breath escapes me. No point denying it, least of all to her. "Maybe I am. But it doesn't matter. I'm still the club's Chaplain. There are expectations I can't ignore."
Eden moves closer, her body a hair's breadth from mine. "Life's too short for expectations. We owe it to ourselves to take chances." Her lips part enticingly.
Every nerve in my body screams to close the distance. Feel her mouth on mine. Back her up against the door and take what we both desire.
With monumental effort, I take her hand from my chest and step away. "It's not that simple for me. I made promises to the club and to Luca." My voice comes out hoarse.
Disappointment flickers across Eden's face, but she doesn't argue. We continue on to her car in charged silence. Reaching it, she turns back once more.
"Goodnight, Diesel. And... don't worry. I won't break any more of your rules."
I nod, not trusting my voice. She holds my gaze a moment longer, reluctant to leave. But finally slips into her car and drives off into the night.
I continue to stare after her long after she's driven away. Wanting her goes soul-deep, but the ink on my back reminds me of vows that can't be broken. Not even for her. No matter how much the resisting may kill us both.
Eden
Istep into my dark apartment well past midnight, muscles sore and mind spinning from another long day hacking at the clubhouse. All I want is to collapse into bed. But as I pass through the living room, the front door suddenly opens.
"Jeez, Gabe, you scared me!" I screech as my teenage brother slips inside. "It's a school night, where have you been?"
Gabe rolls his eyes dramatically. "Chill, sis, I was working on a project at Sam's."
I give him my best stern look, though, at seventeen, he's too old for it to work. "Uh-huh, well, don't make a habit of staying out late on weeknights," I scold anyway. "Just because Luca is out of town doesn't mean the house rules have changed."
He skirts past me toward his room. "Yeah, yeah, I got it."
Knowing any further nagging will push him away, I sigh and let it go. I change into my comfy PJs and grab a Ben & Jerry's pint before collapsing onto the couch, hoping a sugar rush can help make sense
of what happened between Disesl and me tonight. A few bites in, Gabe wanders back out to scrounge the kitchen.
Seeing the ice cream, he arches an eyebrow. "Must be some latenight hack getting to you if you've resorted to Phish Food therapy."
I wave him off around a mouthful. "It's nothing, just work stuff."
But he knows me too well and comes to perch on the arm of the couch with his own spoon. "Uh huh, you never break out the good stuff over a routine hack. What's really going on?"
I debate brushing him off again, but something makes me blurt out, "How do you get through to an infuriatingly stubborn guy?"
Gabe's eyebrows shoot up. "Oookay, not the issue I was expecting. I charge extra for man troubles?"
Knowing his price, I tilt the ice cream carton in his direction, and he takes no time digging his spoon in.
"He's part of the hack," I quickly clarify. Gabe and I have been on our own forever, and we're more accustomed to leaning on each other than most siblings. But I draw the line at asking Gabe for dating advice. "But he's setting some ground rules that make the job more difficult.
"Oh," Gabe settles in, pushing me down the couch so he can settle in and take my ice cream. "The stubborn kind of problem. "
I can practically feel Gabe's resistance drop at my clarification. I fill him in briefly, asking his opinion on how to get past Diesel's stubborn resistance. He listens thoughtfully, then shrugs.
"Some guys have a hard time admitting what they really want. Just keep showing him what he's missing out on by limiting your abilities." He smiles and pats my shoulder. "You've never failed at getting into a tough system yet, sis."
I chuckle ruefully. "Yeah, well, he might be my hardest hack yet..."
I dig back into my ice cream as Gabe playfully tries to pull it away from me.
"So tell me more about this dude. What's he like besides royal pain in the ass?" he asks.
I consider how to describe Diesel. "He's one of the Dark Angels' leaders, really respected. Total biker bad boy on the outside -
tattoos, leather kutte, handsome but gruff."
Gabe groans at the last part. "I thought you said he was the client?"
"He is." I shove my shoulder into his side, earning a grunt of pain. "But I'm not blind."
"And you think there's more to him than just the tough biker façade?"
I glance at my brother and wonder when he became so astute. "You really want to know this stuff?" I question.
Gabe nods, "Sure if it helps you with the job."
"Just remember, you asked for this."
Gabe laughs.
I sigh and carry on. "He's also thoughtful, principled. He takes his role with the club seriously. He won't step a toe out of line." I shake my head, frustrated. "I just can't get him to break his self-imposed rules, even if it means getting us both what we want."
"Hmm, sounds like you two have some great tension going on," Gabe muses.
I roll my eyes. "Oh, we've got tension, alright. Thick enough to choke on. I just wish he'd give in to it."
My brother considers me a moment, then says, "Maybe you should pull back a little and make him work for your attention again. If you stop giving him what he wants, he'll be forced to make the next move."
I chew my lip thoughtfully. "You mean act more indifferent, play hard to get?"
"Yeah, stop pushing so hard against his walls. Make him realize what he's missing if you're not allowed to work your way."
It's not a bad idea. If direct pursuit only seems to push Diesel further away, going subtle could draw him back in. Gabe pats my leg. "Just give it time. From everything you've said, he's fighting a losing battle with himself. Be patient and keep applying pressure... he'll crack eventually."
"Just to be clear," I give Gabe a sideways smirk, "we're not talking about me liking a man. This is advice for a job."
Gabe takes one more gigantic spoonful and shoves the halfempty carton into my lap. "No, sis. we are definitely talking about you hooking up with a client." Gabe shoves the spoon into his mouth with a grin.
I have to smile at his sarcasm. "Thanks for the love life advice, little bro. Look at you dispensing wisdom. But not a word of this to Luca. He'd lose his shit if he thought something beyond professional was happening on a job."
Gabe shrugs. "What are brothers for? Lips, sealed. That is if you forget about how late I came home. Or any other night while Luca is away."
I glance up from my carton, knowing I'll still snitch on Gabe in a heartbeat because even though he's a good kid, he's still a Vitale. "Deal."
Gabe grabs the remote and turns on the TV, settling in beside me with his socked feet on the coffee table. I know I shouldn't have blabbed to Gabe. He's still a kid, and if put under pressure by Luca, he'll spill on me in a second. But, part of me knows what he's said is right - a new approach is needed with Diesel. I'm nowhere near ready to give up on what's sparking between us. I just need a different way to make it past Diesel's defenses.
THE CLUBHOUSE IS ALREADY BUSTLING when I arrive the following day. Prospects and hangarounds are busy washing bikes in the parking lot while more are restocking the bar in the lounge. As I make my way toward the back, I spot Diesel through the open chapel doors, sitting at a table with Ronnie and a few others. He glances up, and our eyes lock for a heartbeat before he looks away, jaw tightening.
I refuse to let the dismissive gesture sting. After my talk with Gabe last night, I'm resigned to ignoring everything Diesel does or doesn't do today.
Ronnie notices the silent exchange and arches an eyebrow at me but says nothing as he returns to addressing the group. I should go
in. Ronnie has asked me to sit in on the first part of their morning meetings so I can hear any news about the Iron Demons and share any of my findings with the club leaders. But I'm feeling defiant, and Gabe's advice last night rings in my ears.
With a sigh, I head to my makeshift workroom, firing up my rigs and pointedly closing the door. I spend the next few hours immersed in data, tracking malware, and trying not to wonder how long it will take Diesel to notice the cold shoulder treatment.
Around mid-morning, there's a tentative knock at my door, and I'm about to get my answer. I mutter distractedly for them to come in without glancing up. The door creaks open, and heavy boots cross the worn floorboards toward me.
"How's it coming along?"
I stiffen slightly at Diesel's gravelly voice but keep my eyes on the screen. "Slow and steady. Their network security is no joke."
Out the corner of my eye, I see him rub his jaw where dark stubble is coming in. "Anything promising yet?"
"Too soon to say." I still don't look at him. Not even a hint of interest escapes my carefully focused gaze.
An awkward beat passes. Diesel clears his throat. "You missed our morning meeting. Could've used your insight."
I finally swivel my chair to face him directly, taking in the furrow between his brows. "Figured I'd get an early jump on things, you know since my hours are limited to daylight only. Ronnie knows the real intel is here in this room anyway. I'm sure he didn't mind."
Diesel looks vaguely disappointed but just nods. "Right. Well, I'll let you get back to it then."
As he turns to leave, impulse seizes me. "Diesel." He glances back, surprise flickering across his stony features. I hold his gaze unflinchingly. "Is something bothering you? You've been distant since last night, and I--."
Diesel looks away before cutting me off. "It's nothing. Just club business." His tone makes it clear the subject is closed. Without another word, he heads out and firmly closes the door behind him.
I scowl at the space he just occupied. The hot and cold act is getting exhausting. But two can play at that game. Turning back to
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Sand-grouse—Pterocles namaquus, ii. 201.
Sangue-sangue, tall grass, ii. 250.
Sanseviera plant, i. 29, 45.
Santa Maria Cape, ii. 214.
Sarna, a kind of itch common among blacks, ii. 259.
Scents, ii. 299.
Scorpions, effects of their sting, ii. 170, 171.
Scopus umbretta, heron-like bird, ii. 73.
Senhor Chaves, i. 83; organizes a picnic, 87.
Sesamum indicum seed, i. 134.
Sesbania punctata, Pers., shrub common in marshes, ii. 176.
Sharks, absence of south of River Congo, i. 51.
Silva, Mr. Augustus Archer, accompanies author to Quanza, ii. 112.
Silver in Cambambe, ii. 62.
Skin-disease, treatment of, ii. 261.
Slave, author buys a, i. 77.
Slaves shipped in Angola, statistics of, i. 67; treatment of in case of famine, 69; native laws regarding, 76; cost of, 205.
Slave-trade, i. 56; explanation of in Angola, 58.
—— at Benguella, ii. 185.
Slavery, i. 56; observance of laws, 59; witchcraft in, 61; ordeal by poison, ib.; in Loanda, ii. 39; author’s views on abolition of, 41.
Sleep-disease, i. 143; description of, 144.
Snakes, ii. 300.
Soba, a, visits the author, ii. 173.
—— Dumbo, formerly a powerful king, ii. 67.
Solanum saponaceum, fruit of the, used as soap, ii. 111.
Solé, bird, ii. 166.
Sounds of birds, &c., i. 304.
Sphynx moths, ii. 304.
Spit-frog, the, ii. 108.
Spring-bok, near Mossamedes, ii. 213.
Sterculia tomentosa, i. 29.
Sulphate of magnesia, ii. 220.
Sulphur at Dombe Grande, ii. 197.
Suspension-bridge at Novo Redondo, ii. 159.
T“Tangandando,” india-rubber, i. 137.
Tobacco, its efficacy for inflammation of bowels, ii. 263; its use by natives, 269.
Toilet of the negro, i. 263.
Trading between River Congo and Ambriz, i. 105.
Traps to catch “inhabitants” of the head, i. 269.
Travelling, mode of, i. 165.
Treron calva, pigeon, ii. 164.
Trial of a man for bewitching the spirit of his dead wife, i. 66.
Trionyx nilotica, tortoise, ii. 125.
Turacus cristatus, plantain-eater, ii. 86.
UUallua, drink, i. 300.
Ulcers, native remedies for, ii. 253.
Uzanzos, baskets or sieves, i. 304.
Uzus, or mortars, i. 304.
Vegetables, growth of, at Bembe, i. 225.
Vegetation of Angola, from Ambriz to Bembe, i. 29;
from River Congo to Mossamedes, 43
Viuva, or long-tailed whydah-finch (Vidua paradisea), ii. 205.
Voandzeia subterranea, ii. 111.
Volcanic rocks, ii. 69, 220.
WWages of Englishmen in Africa, ii. 243.
Water, mode of getting, in dry season, i. 43; finding of at Cambambe, 47; curious deposits of ii. 221.
Watercress, ii. 93.
Wasps, ii. 287, 291.
Welwitschia, mirabilis, plant, ii. 229.
White men, reception of, by king, i. 257.
Wild-hemp smoking, ii. 257.
Witchcraft at Ambrizzette, i. 65.
Women’s work, i. 285.
Writing, style of employed by natives, ii. 315.
Zebras at Benguella, ii. 194.
Zombo tribe, mode of dressing the hair, &c., i. 271.
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