IRON & ROSES: A Black Iron Knights MC Romance

Chapter 4

Reaper sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey. He didn't look at her, but Evie felt his awareness like a physical presence. He was always watching, always assessing. It should have terrified her. Instead, it felt...safe. Roxy led her behind the bar, showing her where supplies were kept, how the register worked, the rhythm of the place.

"You ever bartend before?"

"No, but I'm a fast learner."

"Good. Because you're hired."

Evie blinked, "What?"

"You need work; we need help. Simple as that," Roxy's smile was genuine, "Plus, having a nurse on-site isn't a bad thing for a biker bar."

"I don't have any ID. No social security card, no—”

“Honey, half the people in this town work off the books. You think the IRS is knocking on doors in Black Pine?” Roxy laughed,

“You’ll get paid in cash, and nobody asks questions.”

Evie wanted to argue, to insist she didn’t need charity. But the truth was, she had three thousand dollars and no way to earn more without an ID, without a paper trail, without Geoffrey’s investigators finding her.

“Okay,” she said quietly, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Saturday nights get rough.”

Evie spent the rest of the afternoon learning the bar’s rhythms, memorizing drink orders, watching how Roxy defused tension with a joke or a sharp word. The brothers were surprisingly respectful—no grabbing, no crude comments. They treated her like she belonged. From across the room, she caught Reaper watching her. Their eyes met, and something passed between them—recognition, maybe. Two people who understood what it meant to survive. One of the brothers walked up to the bar around five, a grin in place.

“So, Evie. Where’d you learn to do emergency surgery?”

“Chicago. I worked ER for five years.”

“Chicago, huh? Long way from home.”

“It’s not home anymore.”

Something in her tone made his smile fade slightly, “Fair enough. Well, for what it’s worth, you’re welcome here. And if you ever need anything—and I mean anything—you just ask.”

“Why?” Evie couldn’t help asking. “Why are you all being so nice to me?”

The man leaned against the bar, his expression turning serious, “Because Reaper’s brother is alive because of you. That makes you family. And we take care of family.”

Then a prospect—young, maybe twenty-two, with red hair and freckles—burst through the door with urgency written all over his face. He scanned the room, spotted Reaper, and made a beeline for him. Evie couldn’t hear the conversation, but she saw Reaper’s jaw harden, saw his hand curl into a fist. The prospect was talking fast, gesturing toward the street, “—black sedan, Illinois plates. Been parked across the bar since yesterday morning. Tinted windows, can’t see inside. I got close enough to check the registration—it’s a rental out of Chicago O’Hare.”

Reaper’s voice was low, deadly. “Anyone approach it?”

“No, sir. But whoever’s inside has been watching the bar. I saw binoculars.”

“Get Ghost. Tell him to run the plates and find out who rented that car. And get Havoc to do a perimeter check—I want to know if there are more.”

“Yes, sir.” The prospect left at a near-run.

Reaper drained his whiskey and stood, his eyes scanning the bar until they found Evie. He crossed the room in three strides.

“We need to talk,” he said quietly, “Now.”

Evie’s heart hammered, “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a car. Been watching the bar. Black sedan, tinted windows, Illinois plates. Rental from Chicago,” his grey-green eyes were ice, “Someone’s looking for someone in Black Pine.”

The world tilted. He found me. Geoffrey found me.

“I have to go,” Evie whispered, more to herself than anyone else, “I have to leave before—”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Reaper’s voice was absolute, “You’re under MC protection now. That means whoever’s looking for you has to go through us first.”

“You don’t understand. He’s—”

“Powerful. Rich. Connected. Yeah, I figured,” Reaper leaned closer, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper, “I don’t care if he’s the goddamn president. You’re ours now, and we protect our own.”

Evie stared at him, torn between terror and something that felt dangerously like hope.

“He’ll kill you,” her voice broke, “He’ll kill all of you. He has lawyers, private investigators, connections to people you can’t even imagine. He owns judges, cops, politicians—”

“Let him try.”

“You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“And he doesn’t know what I’m capable of,” Reaper's smile was cold and sharp as a blade, “I’ve killed men for a lot less than what he did to you. So, now, tell me, who is he?” Reaper asked, “Give me a name.”

Evie closed her eyes. If I tell him, Geoffrey will destroy him. He destroys everyone. But when she opened her eyes and saw the absolute certainty in Reaper’s gaze, she realized something: this man wasn’t afraid of Geoffrey Hale. This man wasn’t afraid of anything.

“My husband,” she whispered, “His name is Geoffrey Hale. Real estate developer. He has connections to people in Chicago—powerful people. He used cops to track me down twice before when I tried to leave. They brought me back to him like I was his property.”

Reaper’s expression didn’t change, but something dark and dangerous flickered in his eyes, “He put his hands on you.”

It wasn’t a question.

“For five years,” Evie said, her voice barely audible. She’d already told him more than she should; she might as well tell him everything he may need to know. Anything that may help him to understand how dangerous Geoffrey was. “And he’ll kill anyone who tries to keep me from him. That’s not a threat—that’s a promise. He told me once that if I ever left, he’d burn down everything I loved and would make me watch.”

“Then he’s going to be really disappointed,” Reaper’s voice was soft, lethal, “Because you’re not going back to him. Ever.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Watch me.”

Evie felt tears burning behind her eyes, “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” Reaper reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was surprisingly gentle, “I know you’re brave. I know you’re strong. And I know you deserve better than a man who treats you like property.”

“He’ll come for me.”

“Let him,” Reaper’s smile was all teeth, “I’ll be waiting.”