Chapter 8

Eight

Angela

I paused at the threshold of the clubhouse, my gaze sweeping over the gruff men scattered inside. The air was heavy with the scent of sawdust, stale cigarettes and liquor. I felt Lobo's eyes on me and turned to see him watching me, a hint of concern in his dark eyes. "Don't worry mu?eca , no one here will mess with you. You're with me," he reassured me, nodding towards the interior.

Taking a deep breath, I followed him into the heart of chaos. Men built like tanks, their leather vests proudly displaying the club's insignia, hauled lumber while others hammered away diligently, expanding their domain to accommodate more members. A group huddled around a table engrossed in a game of cards erupted in laughter that echoed above the clamor of construction.

Lobo guided me through this maze to a back room where a man with a graying beard and ponytail sat hunched over several laptops. I half expected him to be engrossed in World of Warcraft or something similar but he looked up as we entered; his gaze piercing and suspicious.

"What's this about, Lobo? I'm busy," he barked out.

The next moment had my heart pounding as Lobo swung his chair around forcibly so that they were face-to-face. My mind screamed warnings about impending violence but then I remembered how gentle he'd been last night; holding me while I slept, adjusting himself whenever I moved for comfort. Squeezing his hand for reassurance, he glanced at me before turning back to address the man again.

"I need a favor, Pooh. This is Angela. Someone's after her and we need to find who it is," Lobo stated calmly yet firmly, "I was hoping you could do some digging online."

Pooh leaned back in his chair scrutinizing me from head to toe which made my skin crawl. After what felt like an eternity, he sighed. "Alright, I'll see what I can dig up. But you owe me for this, Lobo.”

Lobo nodded in agreement. "You know I'm good for it, Pooh. Just let me know what you find out."

As Pooh turned back to his laptops and started typing away, Lobo placed a hand on the small of my back. "Come on, let me show you around while he works his magic."

I managed a small smile, trying to push down the anxiety churning in my gut. "Sure, that sounds good."

I allowed him to guide me out of the room and down a narrow hallway. The sounds of construction grew muffled as we walked further into the depths of the clubhouse. Lobo pointed out various rooms - a kitchen, a meeting room, a lounge area with worn leather couches and a pool table.

"We're almost done with the renovations," he explained, pride evident in his voice. "Expanding, making room for our growing family."

I couldn't help but be impressed by the camaraderie and loyalty that seemed to flow through every inch of this place. These men, as rough and intimidating as they appeared, had a bond that went beyond friendship. They were brothers.

Lobo paused outside a closed door at the end of the hall. He glanced at me, something unreadable flickering across his face, before turning the knob and gesturing for me to step inside.

Curious, I crossed the threshold and found myself in a bedroom, but not like the others I had glimpsed. This one was softer, with pale yellow walls and delicate floral curtains. A white wooden bed frame stood in the center, topped with a cozy handmade quilt. Stuffed animals rested against the pillows.

"This is for AZ's little girl," Lobo said quietly from behind me. "He, Cari?a and his daughter have all been staying in one room since we’ve been on the move. I’m sure they are looking forward to having a little extra space."

I turn to face him, surprised by the tenderness in his expression as he surveys the room. In that moment, I see a different side to the hardened biker - a man who valued family above all else, who would go to any lengths to protect those he loved.

My heart swelled with a newfound appreciation for him and the club he called home. Beneath the rough exterior, there was an undercurrent of love and fierce loyalty flowing through the Royal Bastards MC. And I found myself wanting to be a part of it.

Standing there, absorbing the tender details of the little girl's room, a lump forms in my throat. The care and thought that went into crafting this space speaks volumes about the heart of this club.

Lobo clears his throat, pulling me back to reality. "There's one more thing I want to show you," he says, uncertainty tingeing his voice. Intrigued, I follow him back into the corridor. We walk a short distance before stopping in front of another door - unmarked and mysterious.

Lobo hesitates, hand resting on the doorknob. "This is my room," he admits softly, avoiding eye contact. "It's not much yet, but I wanted you to see it."

He pushes open the door and steps aside for me to enter first. I step inside slowly as my eyes adjust to the dim light filtering through a small window. The room is indeed sparse; beyond a simple mattress on the floor and a duffle bag in one corner there are no personal touches or furnishings. The walls are neutral gray; the floor dull concrete.

I turn to face Lobo who hovers at the doorway looking unusually self-conscious. "I know it's not impressive," he shrugs offhandedly. "I just moved in and haven't had time to fix it up."

"No, it's perfect," I assure him sincerely. "It has potential – you can make it feel like home."

Lobo locks eyes with mine as if searching for something within them. For what feels like an eternity neither of us speak; background noises from clubhouse fade until our world consists only of this room and us two.

Slowly, Lobo reaches out to take my hand. His calloused thumb brushes gently over my knuckles, a shiver running down my spine at the touch. "I'd like that," he murmurs softly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Making this place a home... Maybe it's something we can do together? If you think staying on the island is something you want. We could make this work if you wanted."

His words hang in the air between us – 'we', 'us', 'together' – and it takes me a moment to process their implications.

My heart skips a beat at his words. Standing there in that empty room, our fingers intertwined and eyes locked, I struggle to breathe under the weight of his intense gaze.

The air crackles with electricity between us as Lobo's dark eyes bore into mine, filled with unspoken desires and tentative hopes. I feel drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, the magnetic pull growing stronger with each passing second.

Without thinking, I close the distance, pressing my body flush against his. Lobo inhales sharply but doesn't move, allowing me to take the lead. Heart pounding, I trail my fingers up his muscular arms, relishing the way his skin pebbles beneath my touch.

"Angela," he breathes, my name a prayer on his lips.

In answer, I capture his mouth with mine, kissing him with a fervor that surprises even me. Lobo groans low in his throat, his hands coming up to tangle in my hair as he kisses me back with equal passion. I push him backwards until he's pressed up against the wall, my hands roaming greedily over his hard body.

"Dios mío, you're going to be the death of me," Lobo rasps when we finally break apart for air. His eyes are black with lust, sending a thrill straight to my core. "The things I want to do to you..."

"Then do them," I whisper boldly, nipping at his bottom lip. "I want you, Lobo. Right here, right now."

A wicked grin spreads across his handsome face. In one swift move, he flips our positions so I'm the one with my back against the wall. He pins my hands above my head, his body a delicious weight against mine.

"Oh I plan to, mu?eca," he promises darkly, his breath hot against my ear. "I'm going to worship every inch of you until you're begging for more. Until the only word you remember is my name."

I whimper as he sucks hard on my pulse point, certain to leave a mark. "Please Lobo..." I plead shamelessly, writhing against him.

"Please what, Angela?" he taunts, his hand sliding under my shirt to palm my breast. "Tell me what you need."

Just as I open my mouth to answer, a loud banging on the door interrupts us. Lobo curses under his breath, his forehead falling against mine in frustration.

"What the fuck!?" he barks out, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

"It's Pooh," comes the muffled response. "I found something you need to see. Now."

With a heavy sigh, Lobo reluctantly pulls away from me, running a hand through his tousled hair.

"This better be good," he grumbles. Casting me an apologetic look, he opens the door to reveal a grim-faced Pooh.

"Sorry to interrupt," Pooh says, not sounding very sorry at all. "But trust me, you're gonna want to see this.”

Lobo shoots me another apologetic glance before following Pooh out of the room. I take a moment to compose myself, willing my racing heart to slow down. The charged moment between us still lingers, my body thrumming with unfulfilled need. Sighing, I straighten my clothes and smooth down my hair before trailing after them.

We enter Pooh's makeshift tech den and he gestures for us to look at his laptop screens. "I did some digging on Angela, like you asked," he begins, his tone serious. "And I found something disturbing."

I step closer, a sense of dread coiling in my stomach. On one screen is an official looking document with my photo and the word 'WANTED' in bold red letters. My heart drops as I read the text below claiming I'm a crazed killer on the run.

"What the hell is this?" I whisper, my voice trembling. "That's not true, I never killed anyone!"

Pooh nods grimly. "I figured as much. Especially when I found this." He clicks to another screen showing what appears to be a dark web page. My blood runs cold when I see my picture again, this time with an offer of $500,000 for anyone who can find me.

"Someone wants you bad," Pooh states the obvious. "And they're not afraid to play dirty."

I feel Lobo tense beside me, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Can you trace who put out this hit?" he asks tightly.

Pooh shakes his head. "Not yet. Whoever it is, they covered their tracks well. But I’ve got a feeling we won’t need to wait for very long to figure out who is behind this. I pulled all this from the servers here in Ponce. The community already knows about it. Still give me some time, I'll keep digging."

I barely hear their conversation, my mind reeling from this revelation. Hot tears prick at the corners of my eyes as a sense of hopelessness washes over me. Will I forever be looking over my shoulder, hunted like an animal?

Suddenly, Lobo's strong arms wrap around me, pulling me into his solid chest. I bury my face in his kutte, breathing in his comforting scent of leather and spice.

"Hey, look at me," he orders softly, tilting my chin up to meet his intense gaze. "We're going to figure this out, okay? I won't let anything happen to you, I promise. You're not alone in this anymore."

I search his eyes and find only sincere conviction shining back at me. In that moment, I believe him completely. Lobo will protect me, no matter the cost. Because that's the kind of man he is - fiercely loyal and unfailingly true to his word.

I nod, blinking back tears. "Okay," I whisper. "I trust you."

He presses a tender kiss to my forehead before turning back to Pooh with a determined set to his jaw. "Alright brother, tell me the second you see any movement on either of those notices. I want to be ready just in case someone tries to make a move.”

We don’t stay there much longer than that. Instead of going back to the room Lobo tugs me behind him and we walk out to the main area where a group of construction workers are working on the last wall and the rest of the clubmembers are still playing a hand of cards.

“I’ve got club business.” Lobo says loud. It’s like a sounding bell. Everything stops. The construction workers drop what they’re doing and walk out of the building. While the club members that are playing cards focus all their attention on Lobo.

“I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you sooner than later. At least that’s what Coca told me earlier.” A man with the president’s patch on his vest speaks. He tilts his head to the side to look me over. I shudder when I get a good look at all the tattoos on his face. He’s a scary man but if Lobo tells me I can trust him than I’m good with that.

“She’s right. I don’t usually bring outside problems to the table but I am today. This is Angela. She’s on the run and we’re going to protect her.”

The weight of his words fall onto my shoulders like a ton of bricks. I’d hate for any of these men to get hurt trying to protect me. I’ve never been a violent person but maybe what Lobo said before is true.

Maybe some people just need a little bit of violence to set them on the right path.