Chapter 4 1 - PART 3

"Hey Tank," I called out, plastering a friendly smile on my face as I confidently approached the counter. However, my enthusiasm faltered when I noticed his piercing gaze zeroing in on me, and to put it mildly, he did not seem pleased at all. Uh-oh, I thought, sensing that trouble might be brewing.

His eyes narrowed and his expression hardly concealed the fact that he was seriously ticked off with me, for reasons I couldn't quite fathom. "Do not shit me," he growled, causing a spike of anxiety to shoot through me. In that split-second, I tried my best to recall the limited self-defense moves I had picked up during a mere half-hour class.

Realizing that silence and immobility were probably not my best tactics, I mustered the courage to respond, "I'm not shitting you," I said sincerely, because it was the truth. I hadn't come there with any malicious intent or ulterior motive. It was all just a simple misunderstanding, or so I hoped.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That cunt sent you?" he exclaimed, using a word that wasn't exactly a favorite in polite company. I figured that in the world of Biker Club Land, such language might be more commonplace, but it still spoke volumes about his level of irritation.

Before I could even get a word in, Tank spoke up again, "She sent you. Jesus, Penn! Consider this your one warning, woman. Get your head outta your ass, turn that sweet tail of yours, and get... outta... here."

Despite feeling a bit intimidated, I couldn't help but notice that Tank found my appearance somewhat attractive, at least if his "sweet tail" comment was anything to go by. Nonetheless, I needed to stay focused on the task at hand, so I took a deep breath and tried to advance toward him. However, it became evident that my presence was putting all the bikers on high alert, and that's when I decided to pause in my tracks.

Then I spoke up, trying to clarify the situation to Tank, "Payton didn't send me."

In response, Tank insisted, "I'm being cool with you, babe, just go."

"No, seriously, she didn't," I insisted. I went on to explain, "Roxy showed up at my place this morning and she totally freaked me out. She did this," I said, lifting my hand and attempting to mimic the gun gesture with the sound effect, even though I knew my attempt was far from perfect. "She seemed dead serious, so I thought it best to check in with you, to make sure Payton is okay."

"Payton is not okay," Tank replied without a moment's hesitation. "Payton is far from okay."

I closed my eyes and let out a deep sigh. I was pretty adept at sighing, considering that my sister's antics often drove me to exasperation, giving me plenty of practice. Finally, I opened my eyes and continued, "I take it you two aren't together anymore," I surmised, hoping to understand the situation better.

"No, babe, we are not together anymore," Tank confirmed, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

Curious, I inquired further, "What did she do this time?"

"You don't wanna know," Tank replied, his tone sounding guarded and almost resigned.

Concerned, I pressed on, "Are the police after her?"

"Probably," he replied with a hint of weariness in his voice.

I studied him for a moment, then asked another question, "But that's not the main reason she's in trouble, is it?"

"Payton's got all kinds of trouble, babe. But if the cops are after her, that's the least of her worries," Tank explained matter-of-factly.

"Oh boy," I whispered, feeling a growing sense of unease.

"That's about right," Tank agreed, and as I turned to see what he was looking at, I heard a deep, gravelly voice inquire, "Who's this?"

Then, my eyes fell upon him, and I have to admit, I wasn't typically into biker dudes, but let me tell you, this guy could seriously make me take a turn to the Harley side. He stood tall and broad, with a ripped physique that left no room for any "ish" about either of those traits. Moreover, his arms and neck were adorned with a plethora of tattoos that instantly piqued my curiosity. I found myself yearning to examine them up close, meticulously cataloging each one, and perhaps even writing books about them – that's how fascinating they were.

His hair was a mix of salt and pepper, but truth be told, it leaned heavily towards the black pepper side, and it had a slight wave that added to his overall charm. The same could be said for his salt and pepper goatee, which hung a bit long at his chin in that cool biker way that just screamed awesomeness. Additionally, he sported a couple of days' worth of stubble on his cheeks, which somehow managed to look incredibly attractive on him.

But what truly caught my attention were the pale spikes radiating in his tanned skin around his intense blue eyes. There are only two words that can aptly describe all that was him – Biker Yummy.

"Hey," I whispered, feeling a shiver run through my entire body as his gaze shifted from Tank to me.

Then those intense blue eyes did a body scan, and another shiver coursed through me.

Our eyes locked, and his gravelly voice growled, "Hey."

And there it was again, another shiver.

Yowza! The attraction was undeniable!

"Steel, she's cool. She's with me," Tank asserted, causing my body to jerk in surprise. I turned to him, puzzled, as he quickly made his way around the counter and headed in my direction.

"I am?" I questioned, seeking clarity, but Tank's intense gaze made it clear that he wanted me to keep quiet.

So, I heeded his silent command and turned back to Biker Hottie.

"Sheila know about her?" Biker Hottie inquired, and I glanced at Tank, still trying to make sense of the situation. "Sheila?"

"How many bitches you need?" Biker Hottie added with a hint of teasing in his tone.

"She's not my woman, brother. She's a friend. She's cool," Tank replied, setting the record straight.

"Alright. So who is she?" Biker Hottie, or rather Steel, pressed on, clearly intrigued by my presence.

"Her name's Pennelope," Tank replied, and as Steel's gaze landed on me, I couldn't help but freeze in place.

Then, I watched in awe as his lips formed my name softly. "Pennelope."

Yet another shiver ran through me. I had always found my name rather appealing, thinking it was pretty, but the way Steel said it made me freaking love it.

Curiosity got the better of him, and Steel inquired directly, "So, who are you, Penn?"

I hesitated, feeling a bit flustered. "Um... I'm a friend of Tank's," I responded.

"We established that, darlin'," Steel informed me, his voice carrying a commanding tone. "How do you know my boy here?"

Quickly, Tank chimed in, "She's Payton's sister."

Upon hearing that, Steel's entire, powerfully built frame tensed up, and the atmosphere around him became charged with intensity. It was so unnerving that I found myself momentarily forgetting how to breathe.

"Tell me she's here to drop the money, brother," Steel whispered in a voice that was equally as intimidating as the way he held himself, if not more so.

"Payton and she aren't close," Tank clarified. "I'm telling you, she's cool, and she's a good person."

"She's blood of the enemy, Tank," Steel murmured.

My heart skipped a beat. Uh-oh, this was not good. I definitely didn't want to be seen as an enemy, not by anyone, and most certainly not by this guy. He may be attractive, but he was also incredibly intimidating.

It was time to get to the bottom of things, and quickly. I needed to sort this out, pronto.