The Murmurs
926 Words
~Valerie~
The heavy thrum of engines starts to vibrate through the walls. It’s a low, rumbling growl that I can feel in my teeth. The bikers are arriving. The doors swing open, and the silence of the morning becomes officially dead. Enforcers, road captains, and sergeants start filtering in, their leather vests creaking, their heavy boots clunking on the hardwood. The air instantly fills with the smell of exhaust and leather.
I stay where I am, kneeling by a booth, pretending to be completely oblivious to the room. I concentrate on a non-existent spot on the table, but my ears are ringing. I hear the whistles. I hear the murmurs.
"Look at that..."
"Who’s the new girl?"
I feel someone stand behind me. They’re too close. I can feel the heat coming off their body, blocking out the light from the overhead lamp. I slowly sit back on my heels and turn around. It’s a guy I don't recognize, a club member with a shaved head and a jagged scar running through his cheek. He’s looking down at me, his eyes devouring the spill of my breasts from the crop top.
He smiles, and it’s not a nice look. "I’m Jax," he says, his voice thick. "I haven't seen you around, sweetheart. But I think I really, really want to f**k you. Like, right now. I don't think I can even wait for the sun to go down."
I feel a flash of irritation. I’m not a piece of meat, and I’m about to tell him exactly where he can shove that suggestion, but then the air in the room shifts. It gets heavier, and darker.
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Evander is walking in. He looks dangerous in the daylight, his amber eyes scanning the room like he’s looking for something to kill. My frown dissolves instantly. I force a bright, fake smile onto my face and look back at Jax, tilting my head like I’m actually considering his offer. I want them to see. I want them to see another man wanting me.
But then, a roar rips through the room.
"Jax!”
Everyone freezes. The chatter stops like a cord has been cut. I turn my head, and my heart nearly stops.
Ronan is standing by the entrance to the bar. He looks like a god of war. His face is twisted into a snarl so dark it doesn't even look human. His fists are clenched at his sides, his chest heaving under his leather vest. He isn't looking at me, he won't even grant me that, but his gaze is pinned on Jax with a violence that makes the other man tremble.
"Disturbing my workers during work hour? Come with me to the training room, I can help you use that energy," Ronan commands. He didn’t yell, his voice it’s like a vibration that shakes the very floorboards.
Jax pales, his bravado vanishing in a heartbeat. He steps away from me so fast he nearly trips over my cleaning bucket. "President, I was just,"
"I didn't ask for a f*****g excuse," Ronan snarls, his jaw set so hard I think it might crack. "Move."
Ronan strides forward, heading for the back door that leads to the stairs. He passes within inches of me. I can smell him, tobacco, cold steel, and that sharp, aggressive Alpha scent. He doesn't look at me. He doesn't even acknowledge that I’m alive. He just storms past, a force of nature, with Jax scurrying behind him like a beaten dog.
The door slams shut behind them, and the room stays silent for a long, heavy beat.
Then, I feel another presence. Evander.
He walks past me much slower than Ronan did. He’s trailing behind his President, but he stops just a few feet away. He doesn't spare me a glance either. He keeps his eyes locked on the stairs, but his voice is different. It’s strained. It sounds like he’s speaking through gritted teeth.
"Bring a bottle of Black Label and a glass to my office, Valerie," he says. His like a direct hit. "And make it fast."
He doesn't wait for a response. He follows Ronan up the stairs, leaving me standing in the middle of the floor with my heart hammering against my ribs.
The rest of the staff is left whispering. They’re all wondering what Jax did to get on the President’s nerves so early in the day. They shrug it off, chalking it up to Ronan being his usual ruthless, brooding self. Poor Jax, they say. He’s in for a hell of a beating.
But I’m not thinking about Jax.
All I can think about is that voice. Evander sounded like he was about to snap. And Ronan... Ronan was so angry he couldn't even look at me. They saw me. They saw me in this outfit, and they saw another man touching me with his eyes.
The club hasn't even opened yet. The upstairs is quiet. This is my chance.
I dump my rag into the bucket, my hands shaking with a sudden, sharp rush of adrenaline. I walk over to the bar, my boots heavy on the wood. Mighty is staring at me, his mouth slightly open, but I don't care about him.
I give him my most innocent, wide-eyed smile.
"Mighty," I say softly. "I need that drink for the Vice President. He’s waiting."
I grab the bottle and the glasses, my pulse racing. I’m going up there. I’m going into that office.
Fucking finally.
- Writer
