Antichrist

“Ma… remember to play nice.” The honey notes from the whiskey settle in my throat, warming my blood from the inside out. “What is it you need from me?”

I squeeze the steering wheel a few times while looking between my crispy honey chicken dish and the concrete gates of The Seven Knights MC headquarters. Walls painted in black that’s now faded to a sepia, The Knights symbol is splashed over top in white paint. It’s chipped off a lot since I was last here.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Damn Ma and her bribing me with my signature dish. I don’t know what they’re celebrating tonight, but it’s big. There are bikes that line the large carport to the right, with cars down the street. The young boy that’s standing at the gate keeps staring at me as I park my car against the curb. I don’t want to drive in and be locked in there with my enemy. Sounds a lot like being locked in a lion’s den.

I turn off my BMW M8, push open the door, and start walking toward the gate, my Valentino heels clicking across the concrete

“Whoa!” Young guy holds up his hands. “I’ve been told that you need to drive in, Meraki. Not walk.”

“And why the fuck is that?” I snap, but instantly feel bad. I know these guys are the mites of the pack, but seriously. Why the fuck is that?

His cheeks turn red. I scold myself for a second time in under a minute.

“Boss’s orders, ma’am. Please drive in. I’ll open the gate for you.” He’s polite, I’ll give him that.

“Fucking Ma.”

I start making my way back to my car when my phone vibrates in my jacket pocket. Slamming the door closed, I push to start the car and put the gear into drive, directing myself through the now open gates. My car is low and jacked out with a full-body kit. I’ll be pissed if I belly out on this curb, but slapping Niko with a hefty bill does sound tempting.

The V8 engine beneath me rumbles as I park beneath the carport. It’s worse than I’ve ever seen the compound before. People are sprawled out all over the place, but mainly in the outside bar near the makeshift octagon. Crap. I was hoping everyone would be in the inside bar.

Fucking Ma!

My phone starts blaring again. I hit the answer button on my steering wheel. “What is it?”

“Where’d you go?” Luca asks through the phone, his voice lazy.

I can hear music in the back and people chatting. I have an idea where he is.

I sigh. “I had to run a last-minute errand.” Tapping the brake, I keep her idling in park. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine, Meraki, just… wish you were here.”

I massage my temples, my fatigue burning through my fingertips. “I’m sure you’ll have fun without me.” My eyes fly up to my rearview mirror, where I catch a group of men standing and watching me. I recognize the one in the middle. I could anywhere. “I’ve got to go. Okay?”

He laughs low enough to leave a trail of fear crawling down the center of my back. “Good. Girl.”

I hit the end call button and squeeze the handle. In hindsight, I wish I had thought about what I was wearing. Walking up into a clubhouse dressed the way I am is asking for trouble and I knew better. Black leather crop jacket, tight skinny jeans that are loose around my waist thanks to my fat ass, and high Valentino boots. My hair is a mess everywhere and my makeup has worn off from the day—which is a good thing. If I had thought more into what I was doing before I got here, I would have driven up in sweatpants and a damn face mask on.

I lean back through the driver’s door to grab the dish that’s on the passenger seat when fingers are tight around my hip.

I jolt up in shock, hitting my head on the roof of my car while quickly twisting to see who the fuck thinks they can touch me. “What the fuck—” My eyes collide with his, but before I can start swearing, he’s hauling me out of my car with an arm around my lower belly. “Niko! I’m getting my fucking dish!”

He yanks me into his chest before slamming me against the back of my car, a single hand finding its way around my chin as he points to the bar where people are watching. Well, some, since others are too busy getting their dick sucked.

“You see that shit, Meraki? That shit is why you can’t be bending over, flashing every-fucking-one your ass!”

I shove him in his chest to unlatch his grip around my chin and cheeks, shutting my driver’s door. “Pretty sure who I flash my ass to is none of your business, Niko, but okay.”