As soon as Sam stepped into The Pit, he felt every gaze fall upon him. After the hostility he’d received from the few people out front, it wasn’t unexpected, but never had Sam felt so out of place. The heavy metal music, combined with the copious amounts of leather and the clear violation of the indoor smoking laws, The Pit was every bit as authentic as the High Five was fake. Every member of the Death Riders who was in attendance legitimate, and despite having no real knowledge of their history, Sam was certain it wouldn’t make for pleasant reading. A gruff man, bearded and with his hair pulled back in a ponytail stepped towards him, trying his best to intimidate him. Sam, noticing that he, like a few others, wore the Death Rider symbol he’d seen in New York, politely smiled and sidestepped the man, walking confidently towards the bar.

Heads turned.

Eyes bulged in anger.

Sam knew the clock was ticking, and he looked around the bar, ignoring the hateful stares of everyone inside. While the bar was packed, Sam quickly realised that there were only a handful of actual Riders among the group. Each one of them seemed to have acquired their own following, no doubt a bunch of misguided people looking for their own place among the elite. It was tantamount to a cult, but Sam knew the perception of bikers due to their representation within films and media.

They were cool.

They lived by their own rules.

But considering the panic of the local business owner, they brought nothing but fear to the community. Underneath the hood, they were criminals, and Sam knew he was in a dangerous place.

More importantly, so was Alex.

As he ignored the venomous glares of the group surrounding the pool table, his eyes were drawn to the door to the side of the bar opening, and he felt his heart stop for a second.

Alex.

She stepped out, carrying a box of bottled beers, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Wearing a tight, slightly ripped T-shirt that clung to her athletic frame, she smiled wryly at a passing comment and slid behind the bar, placing the box down. She crouched down and began stocking the near empty fridge. Two other women were keeping the drinks flowing, and Sam stepped confidently past a few people and leant across the bar.

‘Can I have a beer, please?’

Alex looked up, went to respond but her jaw dropped. Sam, looking down from the bar, offered his best smile. Apprehensively, and with a few quick glances to the far corner of the bar, Alex leant forward.

‘Sam?’ She shook her head. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

Her anger caught Sam slightly off guard and he reached out and clutched her hand.

‘I told you, I’d be back to help you.’

‘You need to go.’