‘Ah, so you want to be a Rider?’

‘Not really.’ Alex shrugged, feeling her confidence. ‘I’m more of a four-wheel kind of girl.’

A smile threatened to crack on Wyatt’s face.

‘Okay, fine. A few shifts. Let’s see how you do.’ Wyatt folded his arms across his chest. ‘But I guess I don’t have to reiterate that what happens in the bar, stays in the bar. My boys will keep you safe, but you might see a little more shit than you did in Yonkers.’

‘Fine by me.’ Alex dismissed it with a gentle shrug. ‘Trust me, I’ve seen things that will make your boys look like they’re running a crochet club.’

The smile eventually won the battle, and Wyatt nodded his appreciation.

‘Well, we’ll see. You’ve got the job. But it will take a little while for you to get my trust.’

With that, Wyatt turned and walked away, not even acknowledging Sykes as he did. The huge biker scowled in anger at his boss and then returned to Alex with a friendly grin. It sent a shudder through her body, and she was worried about the very real threat of having to rebuff his advances.

‘Time to start your shift,’ Sykes said, clasping his hands together. ‘Let me give you the tour.’

* * *

Two weeks on, and Alex had been surprised that Sykes’s advances never came.

She’d been convinced that he’d been attracted to her, instantly picking her out on his trip to the High Five and demanding she move to work at The Pit. It had seemed too good to be true.

Sinclair had planted her within the Riders, tasking her with working hard behind the bar of the High Five and relaying any information she could when it came to Wyatt or the Riders. For the first few days, Mason had been a closed shop, and even when he did let his mask slip, there was no slip of the tongue.

Nothing she could give as meaningful.

The Riders were a well drilled, well commanded outfit, and a senior figure like Mason knew the drill to the last-minute detail.

But Sykes dropped a golden opportunity on her lap, and at the behest of Sinclair, she’d accepted the opportunity. Hundreds of miles from home, dropped into one of the most dangerous bars in America.

Alex’s desperation to pull her family back from the brink had pushed her closer to it.

But it was nearly over.

Over the few weeks, Wyatt had kept an eye on her, and she’d felt his impenetrable glare from the back of the bar on numerous occasions. She hoped that her explanation on Sam’s assault of Mason and subsequent emergence in Dillon had done enough to keep him happy.

For one more night.

As Alex lifted the crate of empty beer bottles, she felt her arms shake with excitement, the glass clinking together and rattling like a maraca.