Thunder (Hell's Handlers MC #10) - Lilly Atlas Page 0,93

protest. Mak tugged her arm back to no avail. His grip on her tightened to the point of pain.

“I’m sorry. I had a family emergency.” With each word she spoke, he squeezed her wrist until it felt as if the bones would snap. “I-I didn’t get paid first. You’re not out any money. Y-you’re hurting me.”

She bit her lower lip to keep a cry of pain from escaping. Her sisters didn’t need to know how much pain she felt.

“This ain’t about money. We had an agreement—four hours of work. You still owe me an hour and a half. I’m here to make arrangements.” His leer left no doubt as to how he intended her to pay that time.

Bile rose up, threatening to make her hurl. “I-I—”

“Babe, I was wondering why you didn’t answer your phone. You makin’ new friends?” Thunder’s arm circled the front of her shoulders, and he drew her toward his chest.

Crank released her hand immediately. Though she yearned to rub her tender wrist, Mak held still as a statue. Part of her wanted to sink into the comfort of Thunder’s firm body pressed all along her back, but this wasn’t over yet, and she had her sisters to think about. Maybe, if they survived this without bloodshed, Thunder would be willing to stick around long enough to hold her through a breakdown.

“No, not making friends, are you? Pretty sure you can’t make friends with a pile of shit.” Thunder turned her head with a hand on her chin. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

What the hell was he doing? Linking himself to her would only give Crank and the CDMC another reason to go after the Handlers. He should have denied any connection to her.

“There a reason you’re harassing my woman, Crank?” he asked after releasing her. He spoke in a voice she’d not have thought him capable of—cold, hate-filled, deadly.

“Your woman, huh?” he asked with a smirk. “You might wanna keep a shorter leash on your bitch, Thunder, was it? Either she’s stepping out to party with a real club, which is your problem, or you sent her, which makes her my problem.”

“No, what? No, they didn—we aren’t—”

Thunder squeezed her shoulder. Then he released her. Three steps put him nose to nose with Crank.

Oh, my God. Trembling, Mak whipped her head from side to side, scanning the parking lot. Where were Thunder’s brothers? Was he alone? What the hell was she supposed to do if this came to blows? A quick peek right revealed her sisters still staring wide-eyed through the rear of the car.

“Trust me when I tell you she’s not your problem. In fact, I suggest you forget you’ve ever fucking seen her. You’re alone on Handler’s turf. You got five seconds to get on your bike and head outta town before I call an escort for you.”

Taking two steps backward, Crank lifted his hands in surrender, but his mouth pressed to a thin line of displeasure.

Mak held her breath.

The only one who seemed relaxed was Thunder. He returned to her side and once again pulled her close. His calm demeanor helped keep her from outwardly losing her shit.

“Guess it makes sense now,” Crank said as he continued walking backward.

Thunder didn’t respond. His thumb stroked her shoulder in soothing circles.

“Was wondering how you just happened to discover my guys behind the diner last weekend.” He tossed a leg over his bike then revved the engine. “Looks like your little spy did her job,” he shouted over the roar.

He sped off in a cloud of dust and spraying gravel. Once out of sight, Mak threw herself against Thunder. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. What the hell were you thinking?” She slapped his chest with little force. “Why did you claim me like that? He thinks you sent me to spy on him. I could have convinced him otherwise. Now he thinks we’re a thing. What’s he going to do to your club? He’s going to go after you.” As fast as the words fell from her mouth, her brain raced even faster with hundreds of questions and horrifying scenarios. “What do we do? What do we do?” She spoke against Thunder’s chest, holding his sides to keep herself anchored to him.

“Shhh, Makenna, take a breath.” He stroked his hands up her back once before cupping her shoulders and putting space between them.

Now that she’d gotten his club in trouble, he’d probably want nothing to do with her. How could

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