Page 39 of Striker’s Rebel

One of them looks at Striker’s hand on me and grins.

Striker gives him a stare.

The grin disappears.

I bite back a smile. “Subtle.”

“Works.”

A man near the bar turns toward us.

I know immediately he’s important. Tall, dark-haired, scarred, with a quiet presence that pulls attention without demanding it.

Striker follows my gaze.

“Grim. Prez.”

Before I can study him too closely, a woman walks up beside him.

Grim changes the second he sees her. He still looks dangerous enough to make bad decisions reconsider themselves, but his hand settles at her waist, pulling her against his side, and his attention shifts to her like everyone else just became background noise.

She looks at me and smiles.

“You must be the woman he guarded all night.”

I slowly turn toward Striker.

He looks entirely unrepentant.

“You told them?”

“Yes.”

Grim glances at me. “Enforcer disappears all night, his Prez gets to know where the hell he went.”

I look back at Striker. “Enforcer?”

“Yeah.”

Of course he is.

The woman laughs. “I’m McKenna.”

“June.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

Her eyes flick briefly toward my bruises, then away. No questions. I like her for that.

She checks the time on her phone.

“I have to go.”

Grim’s arm tightens around her. “You’ve got a few minutes.”

“I had a few minutes ten minutes ago.”