Ride me Down

Chapter Six -Into the Fire

The air inside the briefing room was different today.

Tighter. Thinner. Like the walls themselves knew what was coming.

Taylor walked in just behind Jax, flanked by Dani, who wore her usual nothing-bothers-me expression even though Taylor could feel the tension in her shoulders. A few of the guys were already gathered—Mason, Diesel, and two others she hadn’t learned the names of yet—but all of them stopped talking the moment Jax entered.

He didn’t say anything right away.

Just walked to the front, tossed a folder down on the table with a sharp thud, and stared out over the group like a general about to send his soldiers into war.

Taylor moved toward the back instinctively, keeping her head down, body wrapped in the oversized hoodie Dani had tossed her earlier like it was a shield.

But Jax’s voice cut through the quiet before she could sit.

“Taylor. Up front.”

She froze.

Every head in the room turned toward her.

Slowly, she raised her chin and met his eyes—cool, unreadable, but locked on her like she was the only person in the building. Like this whole damn meeting was for her.

She could’ve refused.

She could’ve made a scene.

But she didn’t.

Wordless, she walked to the front of the room and took the empty chair directly to Jax’s right. He didn’t say thank you. Didn’t need to. The message was clear: he wanted her close.

Dani sank into a seat two rows back, clearly planning to fade into the background—until Jax looked straight at her next.

“Not back there. Up here.”

Dani arched a brow. “You need me that close, boss?”

Jax didn’t blink. “I need eyes on the ones I trust.”

Dani didn’t argue. She stood, muttering something under her breath Taylor didn’t quite catch, and dropped into the seat beside her.

Jax nodded once.

Then he opened the folder and laid the map flat on the table.

“This is the location,” he said, tapping a red circle with the butt of his pen. “Two entrances. Limited street access. They’re cocky, so security’s loose—but not stupid. They’ll recognize a threat the moment they see one. Which is why Taylor’s our in.”

Taylor tensed at the sound of her name, but she didn’t look away.

Not this time.

Not when everything was already in motion.

Not when she’d already agreed to walk into the lion’s mouth.

Taylor kept her posture straight, chin lifted, but her stomach was quietly tying itself into knots.

The map spread out on the table in front of her looked like something out of a military movie—red circles, arrows, tactical notes scribbled in thick black marker. Everyone in the room seemed to understand it like a second language.

Except her.

She wasn’t trained for this.

She wasn’t built for this.

The men around her wore their weapons like they were part of their skin. She could feel the weight of it all—their focus, their readiness, the understanding that tonight might end in blood.

And she was the centerpiece.

Jax stood in front of them, voice low and certain as he outlined every step of the plan. His confidence was unwavering. He spoke like there was no room for error. No chance that this wouldn’t go the way he wanted.

“This guy’s smart,” he said, eyes on the crew now. “Paranoid. He won’t come out for a fight. He won’t risk exposure unless he sees something worth grabbing.”

He turned to look at her then—just a flick of his gaze, but it landed like a weight on her chest.

“He’ll come out for her.”

Taylor didn’t react. Not on the outside.

But inside?

Her pulse jumped. Her palms went cold.

He thinks I can lure out a gun-running psychopath like it’s nothing.

Like she was some kind of siren with deadly aim and nerves of steel.

But she wasn’t.

She was a woman in borrowed jeans and smeared lip gloss who’d only agreed to this because the alternative was running for her life forever. Because she didn’t want to keep looking over her shoulder. Because she was tired.

Jax trusted her to pull this off.

And for reasons she couldn’t name, that made it worse.

She glanced around the room. Guns. Blades. Hard eyes.

Dani sat to her left—the only other woman in the room, arms crossed, jaw tight. She didn’t look nervous. She looked ready. Like she’d made peace with the storm and was waiting for it to start.

Taylor wished she could feel that calm.

Instead, her thoughts raced.

What if I freeze? What if I say the wrong thing? What if he knows me on sight and they don’t get to me fast enough?

She could feel Jax still watching her.

She didn’t meet his gaze.

Not yet.

Because if she did, she was afraid she’d either break—or say yes to something she wasn’t ready for.

When the briefing ended, Taylor didn’t linger. She slipped out of the room without waiting for anyone to stop her, grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, and made a straight line to Jax’s room. Her heels clicked too loudly in the hallway, echoing every racing thought in her head. The second she shut the door behind her, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Why the hell does he think this will work?

She wasn’t a trained operative. She wasn’t a honeytrap or some movie femme fatale. She didn’t seduce arms dealers for sport. The only thing she had going for her was that Jax seemed convinced she fit Caine Delgado’s “type.”

Whatever that meant.

She didn’t want to know how he came by that information. Or why he sounded so sure.

All she knew was this: if she was going to be bait, she needed to look like bait.

That part she understood.

She dug through the bag Dani had brought her earlier, fingers closing around the black dress she’d spotted but hadn’t dared pull out until now. It was barely-there silk with a high slit and a plunging neckline that would’ve made her blush if she wasn’t trying to survive tonight.

She laid it out across the bed and took a long sip of water.

Then she moved.

Makeup first. Bold but not heavy. A smoky eye, clean liner, glossed lips. Polished and pretty, but sharp around the edges. Something that said dangerous without looking like she tried too hard.

Her hair followed—soft waves, just enough volume to whisper untouchable.

Then the dress.

She slipped into it slowly, careful with every zipper and strap, making sure it hugged her in all the right places. No jewelry. Nothing that could get snagged or pulled. Just her, the silk, and her heels.

When she looked in the mirror, her reflection didn’t blink.

She looked like a woman who could ruin a man.

She just didn’t feel like one.

But she didn’t have the luxury of doubt.

Not tonight.

Her breath caught the second she felt him.

He didn’t speak at first. Just moved behind her, silent but electric, like the air in the room shifted the moment he crossed the threshold. She saw his reflection in the mirror before she felt him—then his hands were on her waist, firm, grounding, like he already knew what she needed and didn’t need to ask.

His body heat wrapped around her. Solid. Steady. Dangerous in all the ways that made her pulse flutter and her resolve slip a little.

His lips brushed against the curve of her neck, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of heat she felt in her thighs.

“You won’t have to do much,” Jax murmured, his voice a low hum that vibrated right through her. “Just stand at the bar. Let him think you’re alone. He’ll come to you. Try to impress you. Try to win you over.”

His mouth was still too close to her skin.

“You lead him out back,” he continued, “and we’ll do the rest. He’ll learn the hard way that you’re not someone to chase.”

Taylor let her eyes fall closed, her body tipping slightly back into his—like it couldn’t help it.

“You make it sound so easy,” she whispered.

He dipped his head lower, lips brushing just beneath her ear now. “Because it is.”

His hand skimmed her hip, fingers splayed across the curve of her waist before dipping just slightly lower—just enough to make her breath hitch again.

But it wasn’t only desire that hit her. It was need.

Need to survive this. Need to believe him. Need to trust that she could play this part and walk away whole.

She turned in his arms, finally meeting his eyes.

“They know I’m yours, don’t they?” she asked, voice low.

Jax didn’t blink.

“They do now.”

The bar smelled like cheap beer and testosterone. Exactly the kind of place a man like Caine Delgado would blend into. Dim lights. Scuffed wood floors. An old jukebox humming something vaguely rock-and-sad in the corner. And enough lingering cigarette smoke to make her throat tighten.

Taylor walked in like she owned the room.

She kept her chin high, her stride long and purposeful. The black dress hugged her curves in all the right ways—bold, unapologetic, intentional. Her heels clicked with every step like a countdown. She didn’t look around. Didn’t scan the crowd for eyes.

She knew they were already on her.

Dani followed close, matching her energy perfectly in distressed denim and smoky eyeliner, leaning into her role as the best friend who lived for a good night and a little trouble. Her smile was effortless. Her vibe: total confidence with a hint of don’t try me.

They made it to the bar without incident.

Taylor slid onto a stool, legs crossed, tossing her hair over one shoulder like she was just another pretty girl looking for a good drink and better company. Dani leaned in beside her, grinning like they were sharing some juicy secret, and flagged down the bartender.

They ordered drinks. Laughed too loudly. Touched each other’s arms like they were deep in the kind of flirty, tipsy gossip that made men look twice.

It was an act.

But one Taylor had perfected years ago for the camera.

She could fake joy. Fake fun. Fake interest.

She could even fake desire if she had to.

And tonight, that skill might just save her life.

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise before she saw him.

Eyes.

She knew that stare. That heavy, too-long, calculating kind of interest that made her want to shiver but didn’t dare.

She didn’t turn toward it. Not yet.

Instead, she smiled like she hadn’t just stepped into the center of the trap.

“You’ve got a fan,” Dani said under her breath, still smiling wide.

Taylor took a slow sip of her drink, heart steady.

“Good,” she murmured, lips barely moving. “Let’s give him a reason to come closer.”

Taylor pretended to be caught up in bubbly conversation with Dani, all breathy laughter and casual shoulder touches. From the outside, they probably looked like the kind of girls who cared more about lipstick shades than criminal networks. Perfect.

She had to give Dani credit—she played the role without a single crack. Back at the compound, the woman was steel. Here, she was all curves, coy smiles, and playful sass. She could’ve slipped right in with Taylor’s old circle of curated, champagne-drunk “friends.” The kind she used to meet up with for content and captions.

But this? This wasn’t a filter.

This was survival.

She caught him in the mirror behind the bar first—tall, lean, dark-haired, sitting alone at a high-top with a beer in hand and a stare that didn’t blink.

Her heart skipped.

Got you, she thought.

And then he moved.

He didn’t hesitate.

Caine Delgado slid into the seat next to her with a confidence that made her skin crawl.

“I didn’t think you’d come straight to me,” he said, voice smooth like glass over something sharper. “That’s very bold of you, Mrs. Blake.”

Her stomach turned at the name. She turned to him slowly, meeting his eyes without flinching.

“First of all,” she said, voice calm but biting, “I’m his ex-wife. Second, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m here getting drunk with my friend so I can forget about all the s**t that man put me through.”

Caine smirked, clearly amused. “You’re a feisty one.”

He leaned in just slightly, his cologne a little too strong, his voice dropping. “I like that.”

That’s when it hit her.

That’s why Jax had been so confident.

Because Caine liked his women like Jax did—sharp-tongued, impossible to tame, wrapped in softness but packed with fire.

She was his type.

Because she was Jax’s type.

And that realization made something ugly twist low in her stomach.

Caine’s fingers brushed the rim of her glass. “Let me buy your next round,” he said.

Taylor smiled, slow and sweet. “Sure,” she said lightly, tipping her drink toward him. “But only if you stop calling me Mrs. Blake.”

He laughed, and it was darker than she expected. “Deal.”

Dani leaned in then, brushing her hair off her shoulder and flashing a bright grin. “Taylor, I’m gonna hit the restroom. Don’t fall in love while I’m gone.”

“Please,” Taylor said, rolling her eyes. “I have standards.”

They both laughed—hers real, his a little too pleased.

As Dani walked away, Taylor caught the briefest flick of her eyes. A silent signal.

They were watching.

Time to reel him in.

Taylor turned to Caine with a soft smile, letting her eyes drag slowly over him—top to bottom, deliberate. The way a woman looks when she wants something... or wants someone to think she does.

He caught the look and grinned, cocky. “See something you like?”

She tilted her head, lips curling just enough. “Do you?”

He laughed, deep and amused. “You’re something else, aren’t you? How’d a girl like you end up with a creep like Blake?”

Taylor leaned in, fingers feather-light as they trailed to his thigh, resting there just long enough to make his pupils dilate. Her voice dropped low and honey-sweet.

“That’s what I keep asking myself,” she whispered. “I mean—look at me. Pretty, successful...” she let the pause draw out, then leaned in just a breath closer, lips brushing the shell of his ear, “and very, very good in bed.”

She felt the tremor ripple through him. Saw the way his fingers twitched, like he was already reaching for her in his head.

His eyes darkened with something greedy. “You’re a goddamn fantasy, Taylor.”

He moved in closer, his lips hovering over hers now, breath warm and heavy between them.

“It’s almost too good to be true.”

And that line made her stomach flip—not from nerves, but from something colder.

He knows something.

Still, she smiled, keeping her lashes low as she met his gaze. “You wanna find out?”

Caine’s hand ghosted over her thigh now. “Lead the way.”

Taylor stood slowly, pretending her knees weren’t shaking. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, then leaned toward him again with a sultry whisper.

“Back door,” she said. “Less... distractions.”

She started walking, sensing his eyes locked on her hips as she moved.

Behind her, Dani reappeared near the hallway just long enough to flash a subtle nod.

It was go time.

The night air hit her skin like a warning. Cool, sharp, thick with tension. Taylor stepped outside first, the click of her heels swallowed by gravel and shadows. The back lot behind the bar was empty, lit only by a single flickering bulb over the exit. She could feel Caine’s steps behind her—slow, confident, predatory.

She stopped just shy of the wall, letting the dark settle around them like a curtain. When she turned, he was already watching her like she was a prize he’d just earned.

And that—that—made her stomach twist.

But she smiled anyway. Soft. Almost shy. Her eyes dropped to his lips.

“You sure about this?” she asked, letting her voice tremble just a little. Letting him think she was nervous for the right reasons.

Caine stepped in, fingers brushing her waist. “You’re the one who brought me out here, sweetheart.”

She let him touch her.

Let him think he was in control.

“That dress,” he murmured, dragging his eyes down her body, “and that mouth—damn near walked me into a fantasy.”

Taylor leaned in, her hands ghosting over his chest. Her smile was all invitation, no hesitation. “Then maybe you should enjoy it.”

His hands slid lower.

Her heart pounded.

Any second now.

Any second—

“Now,” a voice barked from the dark.

Caine froze.

Hands yanked him backward so fast it took him a second to process it. The gleam of a blade glinted under the floodlight. A grunt. A twist of limbs. He hit the ground hard.

Jax stepped from the shadows like he’d been carved from them, his gun already trained on Caine before the man could move.

“Game’s over,” he said flatly.

Caine spat blood, staring up at him. “You son of a—”

Jax’s boot hit his side. “That’s my woman you were touching.”

Taylor stood frozen for half a second, then exhaled sharply—like her body had been waiting for permission to breathe.

Dani appeared beside her, cool as ever. “Told you you could pull it off.”

Taylor didn’t speak.

She couldn’t yet.

She was still shaking. Still hot from the rush of adrenaline. Still raw from the fact that, for a moment—just a moment—part of her had believed she was actually in control.

But the way Jax was looking at her now? It wasn’t like she’d been bait.

It was like she’d been the blade.

Then his focus shifted, sharp and cold, all business now that the trap had sprung.

He jerked his chin toward Mason. “Get her to the car. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

No softness. No reassurance. Just an order.

Taylor didn’t flinch, but something inside her wavered.

Another man stepped out from the shadows then—taller than Mason, broader, with the kind of stare that said he’d done terrible things and didn’t lose sleep over any of them. Jax didn’t blink when the man arrived. Just nodded, like a silent command had been exchanged.

He didn’t spare Taylor another glance.

Not even to make sure she was okay.

Dani moved to her side, leaning in just enough to whisper, “That’s Ghost. Jax’s right hand. Scariest dude in the club. Don’t let the silent treatment fool you—he’d rip someone’s spine out for Jax without blinking.”

Mason snorted behind them. “Come on. Let’s move before either of them starts barking at us. Ghost’s worse than Jax when he’s on mission time.”

Taylor let them guide her, her heels crunching softly over gravel as they moved toward the car. Her steps were automatic, brain still replaying the last few minutes on a loop. The feel of Caine’s breath on her neck. The weight of his hands on her skin.

The way Jax’s voice cut through it all like a gunshot.

She hadn’t even realized how fast it happened. One second she was playing pretend, and the next she was being pulled out of something very real, very dangerous—and very not over yet.

Because the look Jax had given Caine?

It wasn’t just about tonight.

It was personal.

And Taylor had the distinct, gut-sinking feeling that this mess was just beginning.