8-STUPID QUESTIONS

The Alpha stood over her, his rage held tight beneath the surface, his hands braced against the bar like he was a breath away from coming over it.

Most wolves would have lowered their gaze by now.

Rose didn’t.

Her wolf stirred instead, rising, answering challenge with challenge.

The room had gone quiet, attention pulling inward.

She stepped closer.

“If you’re asking who threw the pool ball at your man’s head,” she said evenly. “Then yes. It was me.”

She held his gaze.

“And I’d do it again.”

Something flickered in his expression.

Recognition.

“You go after one Road Wolf,” he said, voice low, controlled, “you deal with all of us. Where’s Luke? He can answer for his lady.”

Rose leaned one hand against the bar.

“If I wanted to crack his skull open, he wouldn’t still be standing,” she said. “And if he can’t keep his hands to himself, then he should learn to deal with the consequences.”

Her gaze sharpened.

“And watch who you’re calling lady.”

“What did you just say?”

His jaw locked, tension rolling off him in waves.

“Yes,” she said, unflinching. “I never aimed for his head.”

Silence stretched.

“Do you always answer like that?” he asked.

“Only when I’m asked stupid questions.”

Now she leaned into the bar, meeting him head-on.

A direct challenge.

He saw it. She knew he did.

“And if he puts his hands on a woman again, I won’t miss next time.”

“You seem very sure of yourself.”

“I usually am when I’m right.”

His jaw tightened once.

“Funny,” he said. “My man seems to think he’s the one who was wronged.”

“Then your man’s a liar. And a creep.”

The shift in the room was immediate.

He held her gaze a moment longer, searching, weighing, then broke eye contact first.

He turned.

“Snake. Get over here.”

He didn’t raise his voice.

He didn’t need to.

Snake stiffened across the room before pushing through the crowd, every step slower than the last. He stopped a few feet away, eyes flicking between Rose and his Alpha.

“You told me,” the Alpha said, calm now, “that she attacked you.”

Snake swallowed.

“She did.”

Rose folded her arms.

“And before that?” the Alpha asked.

The hesitation was brief.

“I was just having some fun, never meant any harm.”

A chair scraped.

Rose felt the exact moment the Alpha’s anger shifted.

He straightened from the bar, and somehow that made him feel even larger.

“Fun,” he repeated.

Snake tried for a grin and failed.

“Didn’t think she’d react like that.”

The Alpha glanced at Rose, just once, then back to his man.

“You put your hands on her.”

Snake said nothing.

Around them, the room leaned in. Dave nudged Brian, both watching like they’d just found front row seats to something worth remembering.

“When you wear my patch,” the Alpha said, “you don’t shame me by acting like you can’t control yourself. And you don’t lie to my face when I ask you a direct question.”

Snake started to speak. “Prez, I didn’t...”

The Alpha moved.

He caught Snake at the back of the neck and slammed him face-first into the bar. Glasses rattled. Vivian yelped and jumped back.

The sound that came out of Snake was raw and ugly.

The Alpha leaned over him, holding him there with one hand like it took no effort at all.

“You meant exactly what you did,” he said. “And the only reason you’re walking out of here tonight is that she handled it before I had to.”

Snake groaned.

“Apologize to the lady.”

He mumbled something that didn’t matter.

The Alpha released him with a shove that sent him stumbling sideways into two of his own men. Neither moved to help.

“Get out.”

Snake hesitated.

A mistake.

The Alpha’s gaze lifted.

“Try that again, and I’ll take the patch off your back myself.”

That was enough.

Snake muttered under his breath and pushed toward the door, the room parting for him without sympathy.

Silence held for a beat after he was gone.

Then the Alpha turned back to Rose.

And something had changed.

The edge was still there.

But it wasn’t aimed at her anymore.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“You came in here ready to tear the place apart without asking,” she said. “Now you want names?”

“Now I’m asking.”

“Rose.”

He repeated it, quieter.

“Rose."

 

"You gonna tell me yours?”

Behind her, Vivian leaned toward Brian. “I swear, the dangerous ones are always the best looking.”

Brian choked on his drink. Dave didn’t even try to hide his grin.

The Alpha’s eyes flicked briefly toward them, then back to her.

“Lyon,” he said. “Lyon Ulrich.”

She nodded once.

“I know who you are.”

“I figured.”

He glanced over the bar, then back at her.

“You work here every night?”

“Not every night.”

His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth before returning to her eyes.

“That throw was clean, I saw the dent in the wall,” he said. “You’ve done more than pour drinks.”

Memories brushed the edges of her mind. Rings, noise, blood on canvas.

“Maybe.”

He held her gaze a second longer.

“If any of my men try that again,” he said, “you come to me.”

There was no posturing in it.

“I will,” she said, then, “What are you drinking? It’s on the house.”

“Bourbon on the rocks,” he replied.

“Figured.”

She slid the glass across to him.

Their fingers brushed.

Another vision slammed into her.

Her head thrown back in pleasure, Lyon cradling her, his hands on her body, worshipping her. Heat between her thighs.

It snapped.

Rose’s hands pressed tightly on the bar as she struggled for breath.

The room rushed back in around her.

“Hey,” Vivian said, suddenly closer. “You alright?”

Rose blinked, pulling herself upright.

“Yeah,” she said, reaching for a glass of water. “Just a head rush.”

She drank quickly, grounding herself.

Lyon stood watching her with those caramel eyes.

“Are you sure you’re ok? he asked.

“It's fine,” she said, fanning herself, not daring herself to look at him. “I have a little asthma sometimes.”

The doors opened.

Everyone turned.

Florists began walking in, carrying armfuls of red roses. Not a few bouquets, dozens. Enough to fill the space with color and scent, the deep red catching against the dim light of the bar.

They moved straight to the counter.

“Delivery for Rose Rainer,” the first one said. “Can you sign?”

Rose stared at them for half a second.

“Yeah. That’s me.”

She signed.

“Where do you want them?”

She glanced at the growing mass of roses, then gave a small shake of her head.

“Anywhere they fit.”

A card was placed in her hand.

She opened it.

Wild Rose. See you tonight.

K.

Vivian let out a sound somewhere between a squeal and a gasp.

“Oh, my god. Who have you been hiding? You’ve got a secret rich man somewhere?”

Rose shot her a look.

“I went back to the fights last night,” she said. “And I won.”

Lyon, still standing there, let out a low breath.

“That explains it,” he said. “You’re the Wild Rose.”

His gaze sharpened.

“No wonder you rattled my man.”

Luke appeared from the back, stopping short as he took in the scene.

“Since when did this place turn into a flower shop?”

“I’m taking a break,” Rose said.

She turned and placed a bouquet in Vivian’s arms.

“Here, these are for you.”

She stepped out the front, the noise of the bar fading behind her.

The line of bikes stretched along the street, metal gleaming. She walked slowly, inspecting each machine with the eye of a mechanic's daughter.

Then she heard them in the distance.

Sirens.

Her stomach dropped.

Looking up, she saw a line of cars heading straight for the bar.

“Oh, shit.”

She turned and ran back inside.

That was the trouble with a biker bar; it could draw a lot of heat.

She rang the bell behind the bar, capturing everyone's attention.

“Cops are coming,” she yelled out.

Lyon moved towards her.

“One of my boys has a warrant to arrest. I need somewhere for him to hide?”