FIVE: What's mine

~JUNE~

By the time we stepped out of the hospital, the sky had softened into pale orange and gold.

The morning sun rise.

It felt wrong that the sun was rising like everything was normal. We’d stayed until the early hours, until Gavin finally drifted into a medicated sleep and until the nurses practically pushed me out.

Now the parking lot smelled like cold air and exhaust fumes. Scott was taking me back to my apartment to get my things so I could move in with him. The thought still didn’t feel real.

Jax, the dark skinned man apparently nicknamed Mute, which suited him stood near one of the bikes, arms folded. Zane, the blonde man leaned against another, flashing me an amused grin the second he caught my expression.

I stared at the motorcycles.

They looked… violent and dangerous with black metal and chrome. “Uhh… I think I’ll just take the bus.” I muttered, taking a small step backward. I bumped into something solid.

Scott.

I tensed instantly.

His heavy hands came down on my shoulder, dipping his head until his breath grazed the shell of my ear. “You’re riding today, June.”

My lower stomach tightened in a way that startled me. My face heated up instantly.

He guided me toward his bike that was black and red, sleek and intimidating. It looked less like transportation and more like a weapon. Jax and Zane swung onto theirs easily, sliding helmets on like second nature.

Scott grabbed his helmet then paused. Instead, he placed it on my head. It was too big. It swallowed my face, tilting forward.

He chuckled.

I pouted, adjusting it awkwardly as the other two laughed.

“I’ve called my guy over to your place.” Scott said. “He’ll be there to get your things. Zane and Mute will head back after.”

I nodded. The helmet bobbed ridiculously.

He leaned down to my eye level and flicked the visor lightly with a smirk that made him look unfairly handsome in the early morning light. Before I could recover from the sight of it, the other two bikes roared to life.

The sound tore through the quiet.

I squealed, jumping as they shot off in a screech of tires. Scott swung his long leg over his bike and looked at me.

“Come on, June.”

I hesitated… then climbed on. Thank God I was still in my pajama pants and not a skirt. The bike was higher than I expected, unstable and terrifying.

Scott reached back without looking and grabbed my wrists, pulling my arms around his torso.

My breath caught.

I wasn’t wearing a bra. The realization hit a second too late as my chest pressed flush against his back as I clung to him instinctively. I felt him stiffen. He muttered a curse under his breath.

“Sorry…” I whispered with flushed cheeks.

He didn’t respond and turned on the engine which roared to life. And suddenly he swerved out of the parking lot and zoomed fast.

I shrieked, squeezing my eyes shut and pressing my face against his back as he weaved between cars with terrifying precision. Wind whipped around us and my heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest.

I didn’t open my eyes until we slowed.

He tapped my hands that clutched his jacket. “We’re here.”

I blinked my eyes open, adjusting to the light as we were outside my apartment building.

An SUV was parked nearby, and an older man leaned against it smoking. He wore a worn denim jacket that exposed a hairy chest and round belly, paired with old jeans and boots.

Scott walked over and did a firm handshake with him.

I pulled the helmet off and hugged it to my chest, watching them. Scott gestured for me to come closer.

“This is June.”

The man exhaled smoke through his nose and nodded slowly. “How’s the neck on ya? I’m Butch.”

I gave a small wave. “Hey.”

We headed upstairs but my door was wide open and there were people inside. My breath hitched watching strangers and random neighbors rummage through my things.

Scott didn’t hesitate, he stormed in. “Get the fuck out!”

Chaos erupted. Some dropped what they were holding. Others ran past me with my belongings still in their arms, brushing against me like I wasn’t even there. I stood frozen in the doorway then stepped inside. My apartment was destroyed, drawers ripped out. Cabinets hanging open, mattress flipped. The tiny living space looked gutted.

“Fuck…” Scott muttered. “Didn’t the cops secure this place?”

Apparently not.

I swallowed hard as my heart squeezed once I noticed my microwave was gone, my couch, clothes, kitchen utensils, even my cheap little coffee table. “They took everything…” I whispered.

Scott cursed again under his breath. “Those bastards. Is there anything else you want to take?”

I looked around numbly and grabbed the few things they hadn’t stolen, some documents, my laptop, a couple of books, a framed photo of my mom and I. Everything fit into one backpack.

When we came back downstairs, Butch raised his brows. “That it?”

I nodded and explained quietly what had happened.

He clucked his tongue sympathetically and rubbed my shoulder. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. Scott’ll get you new stuff.”

I glanced at Scott but he didn’t look at me, already sliding his helmet back on. “You should ride with Butch.” He said flatly.

Then he was gone, engine roaring to life as he sped away. Butch opened the SUV for me and we drove, making small talk while my mind replayed the image of my empty apartment over and over again.

We drove out of the city, further than I expected until a gated compound came into view. High fencing with barbed wire and heavy metal gates.

Butch slowed and gave a small grin. “Welcome to the Hellfire Riders’ clubhouse.”

The gates opened. Inside, bikes were lined up in rows. Some men worked on engines. Others leaned against walls drinking beer even though it was barely morning as they laughed and joked with each other.

Once Butcher parked the SUV, I stepped out and everything went quiet. All eyes landed on me immediately and I was suddenly conscious of my old pajamas set I wore with flip flops and my messy hair.

At the center of the compound, Scott was perched outside the main building, head slightly cocked as he watched me take it all in. Then he pushed off the wall and walked toward me.

Cat call whistles filled the air as the men barked like wild dogs.

“Hey!” Scott snapped his fingers with hard eyes at the group of men before his arm came down heavily around my shoulders, pulling me firmly into his side. His eyes narrowed at the men who had whistled and without a word, he guided me toward the building.

The heavy doors opened and noise spilled out immediately. Laughter, music humming low from unseen speakers. The sharp crack of pool balls colliding.

Inside looked less like the terrifying den I imagined and more like a rough-edged lounge. Leather couches worn from years of use. A long wooden bar at the far end. Neon beer signs flickering against dark walls covered in patches and framed photos.

Men filled most of the space, tattoos inked their skin with leather boots and jackets as they hung around. A few women were there too. Biker women. They looked sexy and confident, draped over couches or perched on laps, laughing like they owned the room.

Conversation didn’t stop when we walked in, it just quieted down to murmurs. As their stare burned my skin, even Zane and Jax were at a corner table, beers in hand. Zane grinned the second he spotted me while Jax gave a small nod.

Scott didn’t slow down. He walked straight through the middle of the room with me tucked firmly against his side.

Someone wolf-whistled, while another voice called out. “Well damn, Prez!”

Heat flooded my face.

Scott stopped in the center of the room and the shift was instant. The laughter dulled and he didn’t raise his voice, but when he spoke, everyone listened.

“This is June.” His arm tightened slightly around my shoulders. “She’s family.”

A few eyebrows lifted. A few smirks spread.

“And nobody.” Scott continued calmly, gaze sweeping across the room like a predator. “-messes with what’s mine.”

The room erupted with roars, teasing shouts and someone even pounded on a table. “Ohhhh shit!-”

“Prez finally claimed one!”

I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. “It’s not-” I started quickly, face burning. “No, it’s not like that-”

That only made them louder.

Zane leaned back in his chair, laughing. “Too late now, sweetheart!”

I groaned and covered my face with both hands as Scott guided me toward an empty table near the back. He pulled out a chair for me like we weren’t surrounded by at least fifty tattooed bikers losing their minds.

I sat down, mortified. “You didn’t have to do all that…” I muttered, peeking at him through my fingers. “Oh my God.”

He remained standing for a second, scanning the room, making sure the energy settled back, then he looked down at me, calm and unbothered before taking his seat opposite from me.

“Yes, I did.”

I dropped my hands slowly.

His grey eyes held mine steadily. “Nobody messes with what’s mine.” He repeated casually, like it was obvious, like it was law. “You’d just have to get used to it.”