Ride And Obey MC

Nineteen

Knox POV

Greg doesn’t back down. His arms are still crossed, jaw set like stone, and that glint in his eye says he’s ready to push harder if I don’t start moving.

“I’m not gonna ask again,” he says, voice tight. “You need to leave. If you don’t, I’ll call the police.”

I let out a slow breath and study him. The guy’s not bluffing. He might not look like much, but there’s a line in him that won’t bend. And it’s not because I’m wearing a cut or sitting where he doesn’t want me. It’s because of her.

“You think I’m just here for a good time,” I say calmly, keeping my voice low enough that no one else hears. “You think I don’t care about the serious shit.”

Greg’s eyes narrow. “Because you don’t,” he spits. “Guys like you know how to show up for a night, maybe two. Then you’re gone, and it’s girls like Danielle left picking up the pieces. She’s not a f*****g game.”

I lean forward slightly, voice sharpening. “You’re wrong. I care a hell of a lot more than you think. Especially about what broke her.”

Greg’s face hardens. “No, you don’t. Not really. You care about being the one to get her into bed. You care about the chase. But when it gets heavy? You’ll walk. They always do.”

He leans closer, eyes locked with mine.

“Let me tell you something you don’t want to hear. You’re not getting anything from her. You think she’s gonna jump into bed with you because you sat here all afternoon playing the patient guy? You think your charm’s gonna peel back years of damage?”

He pauses, and I don’t flinch, even when he adds with disgust, “She won’t. Not for you. Not for anyone looking at her like she’s some kind of challenge to win.”

I smirk slowly. Not because it’s funny, not because I’m trying to rile him up, but because the truth’s already sitting between us.

Too late.

Greg reads it. His jaw clenches tighter, and the glare he throws at me could slice through concrete.

“You arrogant piece of s**t,” he mutters. “She isn’t a damn prize. She’s not some patch conquest. She’s still recovering from the attack. Hell, she barely lets her boyfriend close, so believe me when I say this, she’s not gonna let you anywhere near her.”

My smirk slips. My heart stops cold.

“What attack?” I ask, straightening a little. My voice comes quieter now, sharper. Not teasing. Not smug, but real.

Greg stares at me for a long second, and then he shakes his head, disgust bleeding through every word.

“You really wanna know?” he growls. “Then go home. Leave her the hell alone, and look it up. Five years ago. November the eighth. That should give you everything you need.”

I look past him, to where Danielle’s still standing with her boyfriend. She’s trying to act like nothing’s wrong, but her hands are fidgeting with the hem of her apron, and she keeps glancing toward the door like she wishes she could be anywhere else.

“You’re gonna tell him, aren’t you?” I ask quietly, knowing it’s coming. Sam’s not an i***t, and Greg clearly thinks I’m a mistake she can’t afford.

But Greg just shakes his head.

“No. She didn’t do anything wrong. You sat in her section, you pressured her to take a break, and you dragged it out longer than she wanted. She doesn’t deserve whatever fallout’s coming just because you didn’t want to eat lunch alone.”

For a second, I don’t say anything. I just nod, stand slowly, and drop a few bills onto the table.

“Right,” I murmur. “Thanks for the hospitality.”

He doesn’t answer. He just steps back and watches me walk to the door.

I pause on the threshold, looking back once more at Danielle. She’s still distracted, still clearly uncomfortable, but she doesn’t know what Greg just told me. She doesn’t know that the pieces are already shifting into place.

I’m not walking out because I’ve given up. I’m walking out because now I need to know the truth.

Because most bosses don’t give a s**t about waitresses. But Greg’s more than just a manager. He’s protective, fierce, and something about that tells me the truth is darker than I imagined.

I need to know what happened on November eighth.

If I’m right, then Danielle’s been surviving a hell no one ever should, and I’m not done with her. Not by a long shot.