Aria barely made it through breakfast before Carla pulled her aside near the kitchen sinks.
“Boss wants you in the main office. Now.”
Aria wiped her hands on a dish towel and followed without arguing. Her arm still ached from where the drunk had grabbed her the day before, and the lack of sleep was starting to make everything feel sharp and thin. She walked across the yard with her head up, ignoring the looks from the men working on their bikes. Some of them nodded. A couple smirked.
The main office sat at the back of the clubhouse, behind a heavy door with a small window. Carla knocked once, then pushed it open.
“She’s here.”
Jaxon stood behind a big wooden desk covered in papers, a half-empty coffee mug, and a laptop that looked out of place in the rough room. He wore a plain black
