Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl

Wren

The moment I step out into the lobby, a call comes in from my brother, I assume.

"Ray, hi." I pick up, dragging my luggage while my eyes bounce along faces, searching for him. "I'm at the lobby."

"Little bird." The voice comes in.

Not my brother's voice, but I can recognize that deep baritone even in my sleep. My blood runs cold.

I rip the phone from my ears, staring at the jumble of numbers on my screen.

"Ezra," I deadpan. "What do you want?"

"Your brother asked me to pick you up," he replies, sounding smug as ever.

My jaw tightens. "You're kidding."

"Nah," he chuckles, the sound infuriating. "I see you. Look to your left."

Instinctively, I do. My eyes find him immediately, his long legs striding towards me.

Ezra Jax, my brother's best friend and right-hand man. I clench my jaw as he approaches, towering over me.

"Birdie." His lips tilt upward into his famous smirk.

I scowl. "Thought I was getting Raymond."

"Raymond had business. You get me." His voice dips, familiar gray eyes raking down my body. "Can't say it's good to see you."

He's changed, I observe. More tattoos have been added to his body, crawling up his arms and neck. Plus, he has filled out too, his arms more bulky than they used to be.

But the worst part is... he's even more attractive than the last time I saw him.

And he's in his MC kutte, the leather vest still has his "VP" tag. Guess some things haven't changed.

"Likewise," I reply with an eyeroll.

His lips twitch, and he helps me with my luggage. "Did you have a good flight?"

"I arrived safely, didn't I?"

"Damn," he whistles. "The bird has grown some claws. Maybe I should change your nickname to kitten."

Because of my name, Wren, which is a type of bird, my brother and Ezra decided that giving me "bird" nicknames is the way to go.

How original.

"I'd rather you just call me Wren."

"That wouldn't be fun now, would it?"

Ezra and I are... enemies. We strongly dislike each other, we always have. But sometimes it's hard to really hate someone who's always around.

We step out of the airport, and the guttural rumble of engines is the first thing I hear before I see them.

My mouth drops open.

Half a dozen bikes surround the sleek black Camaro, riders in leather with the familiar Raven Reapers patch on the back of their kuttes, similar to Ezra's.

"You couldn't just come alone like a normal person?" I mutter, cheeks reddening at the stares I'm getting.

He grins, mocking. "Welcome back to New Orleans, little bird. You forgot, we don't do normal here."

Of course, how presumptuous of me to assume.

He opens the passenger door for me. "After you."

As soon as I slide in, the door shuts, and the bikes fall into formation, flanking the car as Ezra pulls out of the airport.

The ride is silent until Ezra breaks it.

"Saw you on the internet," he says, eyes dipping to the ring still on my finger.

I roll it between my thumb and index finger. "Yea... I don't think I want to talk about that."

"Are you sad about it?"

"Not at all, Ezra. I'm leaping for joy," I retort.

His lips purse, and I continue. "My life was ripped apart in seconds, all my plans thwarted. So no, Ezra, I'm not sad at all."

"For what it's worth, he doesn't deserve you. He's a-"

"Please stop," I say. "Everyone keeps trying to placate me, and that's not what I need."

"What do you need, then?"

I sigh, irritated. "What I don't need is you bugging me, Ezra."

"I'm only looking out for you, as Ray's little sister."

"Exactly. You don't give a damn. You're only offering the courtesy because my brother is your best friend-"

"That's not true, Wren." He looks over at me, eyes hard. "And you know that."

"Whatever." I shrug. "Everything happened so fast, then Ray called me back home so I haven't had the time to sit with it. I guess that's just what I need...to process."

He hums. "I guess."

"Yea..." I trail off. "By the way, do you know what happened to my dad?"

His hands tighten briefly on the steering wheel. "Ray says it looked like he was roughed up and then shot."

I grimace as the image forms in my mind. "Who would do such a thing, and why?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "But your dad owed a lot of people, I guess one of them was done being patient."

My dad was a chronic debtor, an alcoholic, and a gambling addict. He wasn't the best dad in the world, and it's sad that he had to die like that.

But it is relieving to an extent. Like the weight has suddenly been lifted. At least the people he owed didn't come for my brother or me. It's one of the reasons I left New Orleans.

"It's quite... unfortunate," I say.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Ezra sympathizes.

I don't reply, and the rest of the ride goes smoothly. And quietly.

***

The bass hits me before the doors even open, muffled rock music vibrating through the clubhouse. Ezra pushes it open, and we step inside.

Every head turns to me, the music doesn't stop, but conversations do. Familiar and unfamiliar faces meet me.

The smell of whiskey, oil and smoke fills the air. My lungs expand, while my eyes take in the familiar space, and a feeling of nostalgia washes over me.

"Chirp!"

I spot my brother at the bottom of the stairs, arms wide open. An excited gasp leaves my lips, and I run to him.

"Ray!" We collide together, my arms wrapping tight around him, squeezing. "Oh my god, I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too." He pushes back, holding me away from him. "Look at you, goodness. Where's my baby sister?"

His eyes scan the room exaggeratedly.

"You too," I laugh. "You're much bigger now, Ray. Wow."

I go in for another hug. He rocks me in his arms and plants kisses on the top of my head.

We finally pull away, large smiles on our faces.

"Everyone!" He calls. The music stops, all eyes on us, well... him. "This is Chirp-"

I smack him on the chest.

"Wren!" He corrects. "This is Wren, my little sister, for those of you who don't know her. Wren, this is... everyone."

Laughter spills from my lips, and I manage a wave. "Hi, everyone."

"Hi, Wren," they chorus.

"EJ," my brother calls to Ezra, who has his tongue down the throat of a familiar redhead. When she turns, my jaw clenches.

Brittany, my ex-best friend. I don't even want to go down that memory lane.

"Yeah?" Ezra jogs toward us, Brittany following behind him like a leech.

"Wren will stay in my former room, please get her situated," Ray says.

"Alright-"

"Wait," I interrupt. "Your former room... isn't that the wing Ezra stays in?"

Ray nods. "Yes, you'll both be the only ones on that wing."

"Hell no, Ray." I hiss.

He ruffles my hair. "I know you and EJ have very strong opinions about each other, but he's the only one I trust around you. He'll keep you safe."

"Who's gonna keep him safe?" I ask.

Ezra frowns. "From what?"

"From me," I reply.

They both break into laughter, but I don't crack a smile.

Ray lifts his wristwatch to his face. "I've got to go, Chirp. I'll see you soon." He gives me another hug and takes off with some bikers.

"Come on, birdie," Ezra says. "Don't worry, I don't bite..." he raises a brow, "-unless you want me to."

"That's disgusting," I force a gag. "Is that how you pick up women like Brit?"

Brittany glares at me, and I glare back. Glad to see we're both still on the same page.

"Nah," he responds, "only women with the name Wren."