Chapter 4
1131 Words
The dare wasn’t supposed to mean anything.
Just a game. Just another win. Just another night on the streets.
But her lips hadn’t felt like a dare.
They’d felt like fire.
The first time I decided to jump into the game and I ended up thinking about it all night long up until this morning.
Who the f**k was she?
The innocence in her eyes, the glow— and the taste of her — the gasp against my mouth, the way her fingers gripped my jacket like she didn’t want to let go. Like she was made for that moment. Like I was her lifeline.
It wasn't just a kiss. It hit differently. Something shifted inside me.
I couldn't help it and began to dig in. Into her perfect little life. Her name was all I needed.
Ember. Alan had told me.
My fingers worked on my phone until I got it. Ember Monroe.
Monroe.
My breath hitched. My cold fingers stilled.
Daughter of Daniel Monroe. The politician.
How? It hit like a goddamn punch.
That snake in a politician's suit. The man who stood at a podium and smiled for the cameras while his orders left my father in a pool of blood ten years ago.
I could still remember the night like it was yesterday. How the Reapers swore vengeance that night.
I stared at the name on my phone screen until my knuckles went white.
Fate had a funny sense of humor.
The girl I kissed on a dare — the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about — was the daughter of my enemy. The reason the Reapers lost their president years ago.
This piece of information worsened my mood.
After getting a call from Cole, the club president and like a father to me; I slipped my phone into my pocket and went to the bar.
The bouncer outside the door let me in without questioning. Inside, the air always hit the same — heavy with sweat, oil, whiskey, and the kind of smoke that clung to your skin long after you left. The lighting was low, dust in the air. Secrets in the walls.
I saw Cole at the other end of the bar. His back was to me. His eyes were fixed on the dancing lady in almost nothing.
Music gritted through the speakers. A few brothers nursed drinks at one end. Others played pool, laughter sharp and mean when someone lost.
I walked over to where Cole sat, ignoring the lady, I sat opposite him.
He slapped the lady's ass hard, “Get us some drink.”
“Ouch,” she giggled before scrambling away.
Cole looked at me, his face unsure. I knew he was staring, then he asked.
“Are you good?” Colt asked, eyes sharper at me.
Since I lost my father, he has been like a father to me. He was the vice president when my father was the president. He took me as a son he never had. I have heard him say several times that he doesn't want a kid, but it looked like God had other plans for him.
My father was his best friend, so he took me in well. And trained me like I was his.
“I'm good,” I replied. My eyes scanned the bar instead. He didn't look convinced as he asked again,
“You sure?” he asked further. “I didn't see you earlier today.”
“I found out who she is,” I said, not beating around the bush anymore.
His brows furrowed, “Who?”
The lady came back with drinks and glasses.
I passed him my phone and watched him as I spoke, “The girl. The girl I was dared to kiss last night”.
There was silence. The air tensed. And I heard it.
“f**k!”
“Monroe. Is she—”
I nodded, swallowing hard. This hit harder than I can explain. Because it wasn't a mere kiss. I know it wasn't. It got me thinking.
“f**k. Just one time you played the game, you ended up kissing an enemy. I knew you weren't good with these things. I told Karl. You're trouble, Frost.”
I ran a hand through my hair, the strands damp with sweat. I hadn’t ridden since the race. Hell, I hadn’t even touched my bike. Not because I didn’t want to.
But because every time I revved the engine, I pictured her on the sidewalk, hoodie low, eyes bright. She’d looked at me like I wasn’t just a rider. Like I was something worth seeing.
“You thinking what I think you’re thinking?” he asked carefully.
I clenched my jaw. “I don’t know what I’m thinking.”
He gave a dry laugh. “That’s a first.”
I hated that I noticed.
“I don't think she knows who her father is,” he concluded.
I knew he was right. The girl from the race was too innocent, too unguarded, too real to be part of her father’s web. But that didn’t change the fact that her bloodline ran with betrayal. With murderers.
Just then, the door to the bar opened. The room stiffened for a while and I saw the Geeks work in. Well vested. Arrogant and unbelievably annoying as always.
“Duty calls,” I said to Cole, glancing at the door. He followed my gaze and let out a frustrated sigh.
“We'll talk about this later.”
I nodded as he patted my shoulder and walked away.
My face was stern as I watched him go to greet our rival MC. I wondered what they were doing here at the Reaper’s bar.
Cole and their leader left through another door, while the rest of them made themselves comfortable. Soon enough, they were ordering drinks and pulling girls to themselves.
With my eyes sharp, I picked up my glass, downed the whiskey in one shot, and let the burn remind me I was still in control.
Or so I thought.
Then the door opened.
My spine stiffened. I wasn’t sure why I looked up — maybe the music shifted, perhaps the bar dipped into silence for just a beat.
And there she was.
Ember Monroe.
Hood down. Hair damp from the rain. Those innocent eyes scanned the room like she didn’t belong here — like she knew she’d crossed into something darker.
And somehow, she was still the brightest thing in the room.
“Shit.”
I cursed myself for thinking so.
I couldn't breathe.
Because the girl I kissed — the one I should’ve walked away from — had just walked straight into Reaper territory.
And I didn’t know if I wanted to save her…
…or ruin her.
- Writer
