Midnight Phantoms MC

let me feed you

Cruz:

I sat in the shadows, one boot propped on my bike, half-listening while Riot and Knox finished up the deal across the lot.

Some punk kids with too much cash and not enough brains — Knox handed over the package, Riot pocketed the envelope, and the other side disappeared into the dark like roaches when the lights came on.

Business as usual.

Knox tossed a grin my way, slapping Riot’s shoulder.

"Back to the Pit?" he asked.

Riot already had one leg over his bike, itching for a drink or a fight. Probably both.

I slid my hand into my cut, pulling out my phone.

The screen lit up.

Red dot. Moving.

"Y'all go ahead," I said, thumb tapping the screen, zooming in.

Marcos Pizza.

A slow grin cut across my face.

"Little mouse is hungry," I muttered.

And apparently... so was I.

Riot rolled his eyes, revving his bike.

"You’re f*****g sick, Cruz."

I just laughed — low and easy — as he tore out, Knox close behind him.

Their engines roared away, fading into the night.

And I turned south.

Toward her.

The night was still, heavy with the kind of silence that only comes when you’re hunting.

I revved the engine, tearing through the streets, the roar of my bike cutting through the stillness of the town like a knife.

It wasn’t a long ride, but I felt it in my bones — the thrill of the chase, the rush of knowing I was heading straight for her.

Avery.

The little mouse I couldn’t quite shake from my thoughts.

I’d been keeping track, watching her through every little move. That red dot on my phone hadn’t stopped blinking for the last couple of days, following her every step.

She wasn’t hard to find — she was predictable, routine.

Just like a prey animal.

I peeled down the road, taking corners a little too fast, the wind biting at my face as I hit the gas.

I didn’t stop until I saw the glow of the neon Marcos Pizza sign up ahead. The parking lot was quiet, practically empty for a Friday night. Just the way I liked it.

I slid the bike into place a little down the street, killing the engine. Didn't want her spooking too early.

I stood in the shadows just outside the entrance, watching, waiting.

Marcos was dead for a Friday night.

Half-lit neon, one poor kid behind the counter, and the buzz of fluorescent lights overhead.

Then, I saw her.

Avery.

Jeans clinging to those sweet curves, hair messy like she’d run her fingers through it too many times.

She glanced around, chewing her lip, every bit the skittish thing I’d imagined.

I smiled to myself.

Perfect.

She was standing in line just inside, her back to me as she leaned against the counter, scrolling on her phone, looking distracted.

I waited until she turned her head — just enough — and then I stepped out of the shadows.

Perfect.

I pushed off the wall and moved toward the door, quiet as hell, the sound of my boots barely a whisper against the pavement.

I slid in just behind her, leaning in close — close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body. The faint scent of soap and something sweet.

Before she could even register my presence, I whispered into her ear, voice low, dark, and heavy.

"Hey, mi reina."

The way her body stiffened told me everything I needed to know. The slight tremor in her breath, the pause of her fingers on the phone — it was enough to make me smile.

She spun, her bright blue eyes wide, mouth parted like she was about to say something, but nothing came out at first.

Her eyes flicked to mine, searching for something — recognition, maybe. Fear, maybe not.

"Jesus Christ," she hissed. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

I shrugged, easy and slow.

"Wasn't trying. But now that you mention it…"

Her scowl was f*****g adorable.

"You stalking me?" she demanded, voice sharp.

"Coincidence," I lied without a flicker of shame, hands up in mock surrender.

"Everybody's gotta eat."

She didn't buy it for a second.

Smart girl.

But she didn't run, either.

Which meant I was winning.

I didn’t give her time to recover. I nodded toward the counter, where the kid behind it had her order ready.

"Go ahead," I said, voice laced with amusement. "Get what you want."

Her lips pressed tight, but she didn’t argue. She stepped up, rattling off her usual order to the kid, who barely gave her a second glance.

But before she could reach for her wallet, I stepped forward, pulling out a few bills and tossing them onto the counter.

The kid blinked, obviously caught off guard, but I wasn’t waiting for his reaction.

"Double it," I said, nodding toward the pizza. "Everything."

I could see the way Avery’s eyes narrowed as she started to protest, her mouth opening to stop me.

"Don’t," I told her, my voice hard, quiet. "We’re having dinner. Together."

She opened her mouth — probably to argue — probably something about not needing me to pay for her, about this being too much, too strange — but I could already see the internal battle she was fighting.

but I leaned in before she could.

Low, quiet.

"Let me feed you, mi reina."

Her mouth snapped shut.

Victory tasted f*****g sweet.

I paid no mind. I was already turning, the pizza boxes in my hand, sliding toward the empty booth by the window. Avery followed me, still muttering something under her breath.

I stood at the end of the booth, and watched her hesitate for a moment, standing awkwardly by the table.

"Come on," I said, tone sharp, but still with that edge of dark humor. "Don’t make me ask twice."

Reluctantly, she slid into the booth across from me, her back stiff as a board, her eyes flicking everywhere but me.

But I didn’t sit across from her.

No.

I slid in next to her, close enough that our thighs brushed against each other. The booth was narrow, and there was nowhere for her to go.

I boxed her in.

It was perfect.

We were so close.Close enough to feel the heat coming off her skin.

Close enough to smell her — something soft and floral underneath the cheap soap of the hospital.

She flinched just slightly when my arm brushed hers. Her breath caught in her throat, but I could tell she wasn’t going anywhere. She was stuck — for now.

And I had all the time in the world.

She couldn’t hide the tension in her body. The way her leg was pressed just a little too tightly against mine. The way she kept looking at her hands, fiddling with her napkin, anything to avoid looking at me.

I didn’t need her to look at me.

Not yet.

I let the silence settle, stretching between us like a taut wire.

But it wouldn’t last long.

I had plans for her.

And right now? I was in control.