Chapter 5

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The journey took a long time, and soon Laura was aching from bracing against the side of the truck, and had a headache from the roar of the bikes which zoomed ahead and dropped back, zoomed ahead and dropped back, the whole way there.

They'd driven off the highway, on to a completely dark road and she'd begun to feel as though she were back in the dark of the trunk, when finally the truck slowed down and lights appeared ahead.

The destination turned out to be an old motel, a long two-story building, surrounded by chain-link fences topped with barbed wire that made a large courtyard. The gate was guarded by dogs on chains and more men in leather jackets.

The whole place was floodlit like a football pitch and Laura seriously didn't want to go inside, it looked like it would be impossible to leave, but no one was giving her an option.

"Welcome to your new home," Lonnie told Reid as they got down from the truck. "Switch will show you around. We got a room ready for you when you want it."

"Thanks man."

"You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"I'll send something up."

"This place has room service?"

"S'right. You've gone up in the world."

Lonnie was grinning, but Reid didn't return the smile as he looked the place over and nodded.

"Operations are fully go? Recovered everything from the other clubs?"

"Not everything. Y'all were hit bad. But, we're up and running, and we got big plans, boy. Your club's sacrifice wasn't in vain. Anyway," he gestured at Laura, "we can talk about that in private. I'll let you settle in."

They crossed a parking lot full of bikes and SUVs and Reid was met by a handful of guys; one or two welcomed him, one asked about a mutual acquaintance. A few were clearly strangers, but seemed to know who he was before hearing his name, they all appeared unsure how to talk to him, their confusion about his uncertain status clear. He got some teasing about being a prospect again.

There was more shoulder-barging, and back-slapping, and although Reid never introduced her, he kept a hand on Laura between greetings, on the back of her neck, or tangled in her hair, or grabbing the t-shirt fabric at her waist. Not a friendly hold, but it was reassuring that he hadn't forgotten her on arrival.

So far he had kept true to his word, not hurting her, but he was rough, yanking her along in his wake, pulling her against him with a heavy hand. The other men watched, narrow-eyed, approving. No one touched Laura, but everyone looked, and Reid must have uttered the word 'mine' a dozen times.

They were shown the basement of the motel, an old parking garage that had been made into a bar, where more men in leather hung out by pool tables and card tables, some with women wearing leather jackets, or tiny dresses, or even underwear. It must have been the middle of the night, but the place was busy, as if they were in a different time zone.

Finally they were led up some steps and shown to a bedroom. Evidently nothing had changed since this place was a motel. There was palm tree wallpaper, a cheaply veneered built-in wardrobe, a matching dressing table or desk, a big bed, a TV attached to the wall, and an en-suite bathroom.

Switch showed them in like a bellhop and put a new cell phone on the nightstand, leaning against the wall to chat.

Reid sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Laura on to his lap, running a hand up and down her thighs, and under the hem of her t-shirt. Then he hooked the fingers of his other hand in the neck of her t-shirt, dragging it down to expose the shiny fabric of her bra. He did it lazily, as if he was only half-aware of what he was doing, as if she were a cat he was casually petting. She didn't know where to look, so kept her gaze on the thin carpet, and she held herself still while those big hands played with her.

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