Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 20

Wren

It's been two weeks since that fiasco. Safe to say Ezra and I have gone back to being very unfriendly. Maliciously so.

"Chirp!" Raymond walks over to where I'm seated beside Torch, munching on a Pringle. He hands me a flask. "Quincy sent you some chicken soup."

My smile is wide, the scent making my tastebuds water. "Really? That's so sweet of her, she knows I'd rather soon die of starvation."

"You're not starving." Ray laughs. "I'd say you've put on some weight."

"Lies!" I yell, jogging to the kitchen so I can turn the food into a plate.

"Birdie!" Ezra pokes his head in, and my excitement dies.

"Go back into your hole, Ezra." I grab a spoon and my food, heading back to Ray.

He smiles when I settle on the stool beside him.

"How's Quincy, does she know I miss her?"

Ray's girlfriend is the absolute best. I had visited her once this week.

"She misses you too. You know, I wanted you to move in, but she's pregnant. And you're kind of a target now."

"It's fine, I understand. You need to keep her and the baby safe."

"That's why I assigned Ezra to you. And I know you both hate each other... you know what, why?"

I swallow my soup. "Why what?"

"Why do you hate each other? You used to be cordial before you left for Seattle, but since you got back you've been aggressive with him," Ray says, turning to me with lifted brows.

"Me? Aggre—don't make me lose my appetite, Ray. I'm enjoying this food."

He raises his hands in surrender. "I'm just saying, don't stress the man. He's only doing what I said, protecting you, keeping you safe."

"So what?" I ask, gripping the spoon. "Did he say I'm giving him stress?"

Ray eyes the spoon. "You look like you're waiting for me to say the wrong thing so you'd stab me with that spoon."

"Maybe." I shrug. "Listen Ray, Ezra and I are not friends. Do you know he cockblocked me the other day?"

"Well, that's why we're best friends. He's only doing what I would do."

My eyes twitch. "I really feel like stabbing you now."

He laughs. "But seriously though, Wren. Be more cordial, he's a good guy, and I trust him with you. Especially because I know he doesn't want to get in your pants."

Hm. I'm not so sure about that anymore.

"And if he does?"

Ray's face immediately hardens, we both look over at Ezra laughing with Brittany on his lap. I guess he's back with Brittany.

He looks up at us, a frown on his face. He gives a nod to Ray, and Ray nods back.

"He better not," Ray mutters. "And that rule applies to you too. I know Ezra can be quite alluring to the ladies."

"Alluring to the ladies?" I snort. "What are you? Fifty?"

He ruffles my hair. "I'm practicing being a dad for when the time comes."

I shake my head at him, focusing on my food.

"I love you, Chirp," Ray says suddenly. "I wish you could stay with Quincy and I."

"I'll always come visit, you know that. And I love you —"

The words are barely out of my mouth when the door slams open.

Everyone stands immediately, alert to the intruder. Raymond pushes past me, pistol pulled out. Ezra stands beside him too.

All the men have their guns out, while the women slowly gather together.

My eyes are wide as three men clad in high-end tux step in. They seem to have sucked all the air out of the clubhouse.

They have a stare off, thick silence in the house as they wait for one person to break.

My spoon falls to the ground with a loud thunk, and the sound of the gun safety being turned off sounds immediately.

One of them points a gun to my head. Ezra turns his gun at the man.

I gasp, breath shaky. "Oh god, I'm sorry."

"Who's Ezra Jax?" The man in the middle with white-blond hair speaks. He looks like the one in charge, the leader of whatever they are.

"Take your gun away from her," Ezra snaps.

The man's lips curve into a sneer. "I asked a question."

"And I gave a fucking order."

They have another stare-off, no one willing to back down.

You know what? Ezra's gonna get me killed at the end of the day.

My eyes ping pong between the gun pointed at me, and the nearest exit. Can I really outrun a bullet?

The man pulls out his gun and fires at the ceiling. A lightbulb shatters, raining glass. Blood-curdling scream spills from somewhere in the house.

It takes me a minute to realize that's it's me. My hands are over my ears as I scream...for everyone it seems, because no one else is screaming.

Ray's frown deepens, gaze hard. "Your little show doesn't scare us."

'Us' equals minus me, because I am absolutely terrified.

"The longer you have that gun pointed at her, the longer you'd have to wait for the answer to your question," Ezra replies.

My pulse thrums frantically, limbs shaking. It's a miracle I'm still standing.

The man clears his throat twice, and the gun is removed from me. I exhale loudly, hugging myself with cold hands.

"Good, now what was your question?" Raymond speaks.

"Who is Ezra Jax?"

"Depends," Ezra replies. "Who's asking?"

"Me."

Ezra rakes his eyes down the man's body, an exaggerated show of sizing him up.

Then, he scoffs. "And who the fuck are you?"

The man licks his teeth, tapping his fancy Italian shoes on the ground.

"I'm Tristan Fuller's uncle, does the name ring a bell?" The man asks.

My heart drops, spine straightening.

My Tristan? He's uncle?

"Yes, it does," Raymond responds. "Your nephew laid his filthy hands on my sister—" he juts his finger at me, "...after humiliating her."

The man gives me a once over. "I'm guessing you're the dyslexic one."

"What?" I blurt, eyes wide.

"Excuse me?" Ezra steps closer until he's toe-to-toe with the man. "Can you repeat that?"

"I said she's the dyslexic—"

Ezra thunks him with the butt off his gun. His men rush forward, but the man holds his hand up, stopping them.

"Again. Repeat it," Ezra prods. His eyes are blown, muscles corded tight, almost like he's itching for a fight.

The man chuckles darkly. "Ezra Jax. That's you, isn't it?"

Ezra steps back, jaw tight. "What do you want?"

"So you're the man that thinks it's okay to beat a defenseless man to death? And then strip him off and tie him to the balcony, not bothering to preserve his dignity even in death?"

I inhale sharply. "W-what did you say?"

The man's eyes cut to mine and then to everyone else's.

"You're all going to pay for the death of Tristan Fuller," he declares. "Especially you, Ezra Jax...his fucking killer."