NO SAFE ROAD

The Wrong Man pt2

Mara looked back at Cole. “You know him.”

“Your ex?”

“Yes.”

“I know the name.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No,” Cole said. “It’s worse.”

She should have asked what he meant. Instead she felt the knot in her stomach tighten.

Because if Cole knew the name and reacted like that, then this was not just a woman running from a bad relationship. It was something bigger. Dirtier. More dangerous.

She hated that a small part of her had hoped the clubhouse would be a dead end.

Dead ends were simpler.

Cole set her phone on the bar between them like it had become evidence. “You got a place?”

The question was casual. The meaning was not.

Mara shook her head. “Not one that matters.”

Cole watched her for a second. Then he said, “You staying here tonight.”

She stared at him. “I didn’t ask to stay.”

“No,” he said. “You asked for five minutes. You’re getting more than that.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It is in my world.”

The words hung there.

In my world.

Mara looked around the clubhouse again. The men. The bar. The silence that still sat in the corners like it belonged there. This was his world. Structured by rules she didn’t know and danger she could already feel. And he had just made it plain that she was inside it now.

A motorcycle engine rumbled outside. Close. Then cut off.

Mara’s attention snapped toward the front windows.

Cole noticed at once. “You expecting someone?”

Her pulse jumped. “No.”

The engine started again. Idled. Then stopped.

One of the men near the door said something low to another, and both of them moved closer to the window.

Mara’s skin prickled. “Cole.”

He held up one hand, not looking away from the front of the clubhouse. “Stay here.”

That should have annoyed her.

Instead, a cold wave of fear slid through her because of the way he said it. Not as a suggestion. Not as a man trying to sound important. As someone who had already decided something bad was close.

Tessa set a hand on the bar and murmured, “Well, hell.”

The front door opened.

Every head in the room turned.

A man stepped inside with the easy confidence of someone who expected to be allowed through.

Mara didn’t know him.

But Cole did.

She saw it in the instant before Cole moved—one sharp shift of his shoulders, the tightening in his eyes, the hard line of his mouth.

And then the newcomer smiled at Mara like he’d been looking for her all along.

“Well,” he said, glancing from her to Cole and back again. “Looks like I found her first.”