OWNED BY THE BIKER KING

chapter 2

The heavy wooden door of Hell's Throttle slammed shut behind us, cutting off the worst of the howling wind, but the thunderous rumble of the approaching motorcycles still filled the empty night, vibrating through the very ground beneath my feet.

One. Two. Three. Too many.

It sounded like an entire army of metal and chaos was descending upon this sleepy town. The moment Ryder realized who it was, his entire expression turned deadly cold. The dangerous biker from moments ago was completely replaced by someone lethal. Without breaking his stride, his grip tightened on my wrist—not meant to hurt, but unyielding—as he practically dragged me towards the back entrance of the bar.

His long strides forced me to stumble slightly to keep up. We stopped abruptly near a narrow, dimly lit hallway that smelled of stale beer and old wood.

“Stay here,” he ordered, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, trying to shake off the terror creeping up my spine. “Who are they?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

“I’m not a child,” I snapped back, though the lie felt thin even to my own ears. My knees were shaking so badly I could barely stand.

Ryder stepped closer, trapping me between his massive frame and the cold wooden wall. He was too close. The suffocating, intoxicating scent of rain-soaked leather, gasoline, and pure masculinity radiated from his body, wrapping around my senses. He tilted my chin up with his calloused thumb, forcing my eyes to meet his dark, intense gaze. For a split second, his eyes flickered down to my lips before snapping back to my eyes.

Outside, the motorcycles grew louder, the vibrations rattling the thin walls of the bar and making the hanging lightbulbs sway above us. My chest tightened. The sound alone was enough to make a cold sweat break out beneath my skin. It reminded me too much of the world I had just fled—a world where powerful men brought nothing but violence. Whoever those men were… Ryder clearly knew them. And judging from the lethal look in his eyes, this was no friendly visit.

“If you’re smart,” he murmured, his hot breath brushing against my cheek, sending an unexpected shiver straight down my spine, “you’ll stay hidden and keep that pretty little head down.” His jaw tightened, his grip on my jawline lingering just a second too long. “And don’t ever think about running from me.”

The words landed much heavier than they should have. My breath hitched.

“Why would I run?” I whispered, my voice cracking.

A dangerous, humorless smirk flickered across his lips. “Because if you do…” His voice dropped into a terrifyingly calm whisper that sent shivers straight down my spine, “I’ll find and hunt you down myself.”

Ryder turned and walked away before I could respond, leaving me alone in the shadows. I released a shaky breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, my hand flying to my chest to calm my racing heart. Every instinct I possessed screamed at me to run out the back door and never look back. But somehow…. Ryder Kane terrified me less than the men chasing me. At least with him, the danger felt honest.

SLAM!

The front door was kicked open with such force that the glass pane rattled. Heavy boots echoed like gunshots across the wooden floorboards as several tattooed men flooded into the room, shaking off the rain.

The man leading the pack smirked the second his eyes landed on Ryder, who was leaning casually against the counter as if he hadn’t just threatened to hunt a girl down. The stranger was tall and broad-shouldered, his leather jacket soaked with rain and smelling of wet asphalt. A long, jagged scar stretched across his jaw, disappearing beneath a thick, unkempt beard. He looked like a man born from violence. Zack.

“Well, well...” Zack drawled, his voice dripping with malice as his eyes scanned the empty bar. “Look who’s still breathing. I thought you’d gone soft, Kane.”

Ryder let out a low, mocking chuckle, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he stepped forward to meet him face-to-face. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that to you, Zack? Last I checked, you were still nursing that broken jaw I gave you.”

A tense, heavy silence filled the room. The men behind Zack shifted uncomfortably, their hands resting near their waistbands. No one dared to breathe, as if the slightest sound would trigger a bloodbath. I held my breath in the shadows, praying my racing heart wouldn’t give me away.

Suddenly— The sharp, piercing sound of shattering glass echoed from the hallway right behind me.

Crash!

My elbow had knocked over an old framed picture on the wall.

“Shit.”

Zack’s eyes instantly snapped toward the dark hallway where I was hiding. Ryder’s expression darkened instantly, his muscles tensing as he stepped into Zack’s line of sight.

To be continued.