Chapter 48: Wolf.e: Chapter 47

The Glen Eden rally is something I really can’t describe.

I take in the sights, the sounds, the smells and I can’t believe what a world this is—the bikers world. I simply had no idea the way it encompasses people.

It’s not just a hobby, it’s who they are.

It’s not just a vibe. It’s a culture.

As we pull into the otherwise quiet hamlet of Benson, Georgia, and stop at the light in a sea of bikes, I feel like I belong as Gabriel’s large hands settle against my jean clad calves. He strokes them gingerly as we wait for the light to change and a warm feeling of peace washes over me. For being such a heartless, cold blooded biker president on the outside, his inside is surprisingly thoughtful, protective, and downright fucking addicting.

After living with him for a month I know Gabriel can’t help it. He simply oozes masculinity and power in everything he does. He’s the provider, the caretaker, and the king of this world. When he touches me like this as I’m nestled behind him, while he’s front and center leading his club, I feel like his queen.

I’m almost sad when the light finally changes, and he releases my legs to move his hands back to the handlebars. The further into town we go, the more incredible and over the top things become. There are vendors everywhere, women everywhere, some in fishnet shirts with nothing underneath, some in no shirts, and almost everyone wears leather like it was a prerequisite to get into the town. There are apparel tents, bike part tents, bikes themselves, Harley Davison is here, Indian Motorcycle, even BMW has a bike viewing area set up. There are beer tents and food trucks. It’s full of chaos and laughter and feels like a party all amidst more club colors than I’ve ever seen. Clubs from all over, every part of the country, all different nationalities, even clubs from Canada joining in.

All to celebrate their love of riding. It’s truly exhilarating to be a part of.

We ride through the whole town before hitting the outskirts where the party continues, as we’re pulling into a campground of sorts, but it’s on the property of someone Gabriel knows. The music is already going, and people have tents put up everywhere between the trees. There are portable bathrooms and people barbecuing. It’s like the owner has thought of everything.

“Pres,” a gray-haired giant with a beard to match, who Gabriel calls Jack, says. Jack’s smile is wide as we approach him, standing in front of a row of about fifteen yurt style cabins.

I look around as he talks to the man and a few others that have joined as the HOH files in and gets off their bikes. There’s shade everywhere throughout the trees and a massive building in the center of the property. It reminds me of a mess hall of sorts from a summer camp I went to when I was young.

“I’m in Orlando for two weeks after this, so it’s like a send off of sorts for me,” Jack tells him.

“Heading down to see Skylar?” Gabriel asks him as Layla approaches and hugs me from behind.

I squeeze her back. “We’re gonna have so much fun,” she whispers so she doesn’t interrupt the two men talking.

“Yep, grandson number two born yesterday. They’re just a blessing those grandbabies,” Jack continues.

“Congrats, bro,” Gabriel says, and the other members offer their congratulations as well.

“Who’s this beauty?” the man asks as I turn my full attention back to him.

Gabriel reaches between us and grabs my waist possessively. “This is Brinley,” he says, pulling me closer, under the crook of his arm. I breathe in his leather and spice scent. His hand drifts down to my hip and he squeezes tight in front of everyone in the open space.

The gray-haired giant stands stunned for a few seconds and then chuckles, a deep sound that reverberates from his chest.

“Well, Brinley, this is a turn of events I wasn’t prepared for. I’m Jack Walker,” he says extending a mitt sized weathered hand.

“Brinley Beaumont,” I respond.

“Never expected this guy to bring a plus one,” he says to me.

“Neither did he.” I grin.

Jack chuckles and scrubs his jaw, then turns to Gabriel but speaks to me. “You know, his mother always said he always chased the path he would suffer the most on and he wouldn’t settle down until he was satisfied with his own suffrage.”

“I could see that.” I smirk up at Gabriel who squeezes me closer.

“Yeah, I bet you can,” Jack grins at me.

“Fine woman, that Theresa,” Jack says as if he’s remembering a past life. It makes me wonder how well he knew her.

“She also used to say that the right person would only show up once you thought you’d suffered enough to deserve her.” Jack claps Gabriel on the shoulder.

Gabriel looks down at me and uses his first two fingers to tuck my hair behind my ear.

He kisses my forehead. “You think I’ve suffered enough, little hummingbird?” he whispers in my ear.

I smile up at him. “Never,” I whisper back.

“Fuck.” Jack cackles. “Let’s go, Romeo, I’ll show you to your cabin.”

We settle into our surprisingly sturdy tent-like cabin, right beside Layla and Sean. There’s a spot at the back of each cabin for the guys’ bikes, it’s clearly been designed to house an event like this.

I quickly change into a rather revealing black tank top Layla gave me, that has tiny little rips and holes in both the front and back. Then I slip on a short, distressed jean skirt that makes my legs and ass look amazing, and add a pair of black fringe ankle boots with a chunky heel. I give myself a little half turn and admire the way all this training has shaped me without taking away from my curves. If anything, all those weighted squats he’s had me doing have made me more shapely and I love how feminine—yet strong—I feel.

This skirt is not something I would ever normally wear. Normally, I live in yoga pants or jeans, casual tees, and my chucks, but here I want to feel sexy.

I curl my hair and fluff it up around my shoulders, and give myself some cherry lipstick, a hefty dose of eyeliner, a few chains, and some hoop earrings before exiting the cabin. Sean and Layla, the entire HOH crew, Jack Walker, and Gabriel are all waiting and talking at the bottom of the cabin steps. The only one missing is Jake. Gabriel said he had a deal to work out in order to replace the methadone that was lost in another Atlanta clinic break in, so he won’t be here until later tonight.

Everyone stops talking the moment my feet hit the steps. It’s like a scene from one of the rom coms I watch, when the heroine gets a makeover. Layla lets out a low whistle.

“Fuck yes! Naughty little schoolteacher vibes, I’d do you!” She giggles as I feel my cheeks heat under the attention.

I’m too nervous to make eye contact with Gabriel until I hear everyone’s chatter start to resume, but when I do, I can’t help but notice the hunger I see in his eyes. I attempt to walk by him and give Layla a side hug. His hand darts out to wrap his first finger around my pinky and tug me close.

“This…” he whispers into my ear in a gruff timbre. “This is going to have me plucking out the eyes of every man here tonight one by one. I can fucking feel it.”

I reach up and pat him on the chest under his cut before kissing him.

“No need, it’s all for you.”

I swear Gabriel growls in response. He takes hold of my hand under his cut, pulling it down and holding my palm up. I watch as he reaches into his inside pocket and pulls out a knife, smaller than the knife he wears everyday, the one that was inside me, but with the same kind of smooth bone handle and a leather sheath to match. It’s small enough to fit into my hand and still conceal it which makes me smile.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“The handle of my knife is made from wolf bone, hunted by my grandfather, as is yours now. I had this made from his knife. It’s strong, sturdy and the perfect size to fit your hand. I trust you’ll only use it if you absolutely need to.”

I look down at it, understanding what it means. I’m strong enough. He’s trusting me to protect myself. I take it from him and bend down to slide it into my boot, reaching up to kiss his lips.

“I’m a warrior now too, just like you?” I ask.

Gabriel pulls back and looks down at me as awe and admiration bathe his face. A flicker of light returns to his steely gray eyes, one like I saw in those photos from his younger years just before he bends to kiss my lips, people around us continuing to move and pay us no attention.

“You were always a warrior, little hummingbird, you just never knew it.”

Gabriel takes my hand and leads me into a large crowd of people near the main mess hall building and settles in around a large stone fire pit with drinks in hand. It’s unseasonably cool for late July so I’m glad for the fire as I sip my drink, spending the rest of the afternoon watching people from clubs all over America approach Gabriel and the rest of his crew.

I’m on my third or fourth butterscotch flavored shot when Gabriel whispers in my ear. “Slow down, you need to stay alert, and men tend to get handsy with women when they’re drunk. I really don’t want to have to kill anyone tonight.”

“I’m plenty alert,” I say back, but truthfully I’m a little tipsy. Layla giggles beside me.

I’m like a college kid having freedom for the first time, what does he expect?

Gabriel grabs my current shot from me and tosses it back just to prove a point. The face he makes when he tastes the sweet liquid makes me laugh.

“I wanted that,” I tell him, with narrowed eyes.

He grimaces at the flavor, pulling his bottle of water up, he takes a sip. I haven’t even seen him have a whiskey tonight. Probably for the exact reason he’s telling me to slow down. He has to be alert.

Gabriel will be watching me I know, but I’m not worried here. I’m on a stress-free vacation. Vacation from the four walls of his house, someone hunting me just to hurt him, the insanely surreal direction my life has taken in the less than two months since I’ve been home, all of it.

I let him win and don’t search for another drink, knowing someone will bring another round soon enough.

The rest of the girls in our crew have arrived too and are catching up with us when I hear the distant sounds of church choir music. It fades when our music kicks up again then returns when the song ends.

“Is someone holding a church service here?” I ask Layla beside me.

She looks to the field behind our cabins. “Neighboring farm. They hold massive outdoor church services, conveniently every year around the time we all roll in. It will go on for a few hours every night. They’re praying over us, praying we turn our lives around.”

I look over my shoulder in the direction I hear a crowd singing “How Great Thou Art” only to have it disappear again when Van Halen starts to play through the DJ’s sound system.

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. I used to be in the crowd praying. Now, I’m being prayed for. Something about that feels unsettling as I try to push the hymns of my youth from my mind. I don’t want those two worlds to collide.

“Boss.” Sean motions to Gabriel, nodding to a group of men waiting in the crowd of people. I look up at them as best I can without fully turning toward them. They all wear jeans and cuts, I have no idea who they’re with and won’t until they turn around.

“They can talk now. Otis has to go soon,” Sean adds.

Gabriel looks down at me, then across to Amber, Chantel, and Layla.

“Don’t worry, Pres, we’ll keep her safe.” Chantel smiles at him.

Gabriel rolls his eyes at her and turns to Chris. He points beside me.

“This is where you live until I get back, yeah?” he says patting Chris on the chest once.

“Sure thing, Pres.”

I have no idea what he’s worried about, this place is such a fun—

Seriously???

I internally groan as I watch her approach.

Apparently, it was only a matter of time before someone brought another round. And here she comes, carrying in my next drink on a tray with twenty others. Dark hair loose and wild, leather shorts and a tight red tank top. Chelsea, the brazen woman who hit on Gabriel in front of our whole table at Layla’s wedding.

Just when I’m starting to have fun, this buzzkill has to arrive?