Chapter 2 - DANIEL’S INSIGNIA
Sitting at the center picnic table was Cole Mercer, the forty-two-year-old President of the motorcycle club.
Cole was a commanding, intimidating presence—tall, heavily muscular, with a sculpted, model-like physique, dark swept-back hair, and razor-sharp rugged features. Because this was an informal midnight pit stop along a lonely stretch of highway, Cole wore a sleeveless black leather club vest left open over his bare, heavily tattooed chest and neck. Complex ink depicting eagle wings, chains, and Latin proverbs covered his skin. Dark jeans, heavy steel-toed boots, silver skull rings on his thick fingers, and a heavy brass chain bracelet on his wrist completed his look.
Initially, Cole’s face carried a faint, amused smirk as he watched the young girl challenge his men. He slowly set his coffee cup down on the wooden table, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and stood up to his full height.
He towered over Elena.
Without saying a word, Cole walked around her, his heavy boots thudding against the wet asphalt. He stepped directly behind her, stooping slightly to examine the back of the oversized leather vest.
His eyes scanned the primary club patch, noting the specific thread degradation that only occurred on vests crafted over two decades ago. Then his eyes drifted lower, locking onto the small, faded insignia near the bottom hem—the iron cross entwined with the serpent.
The amused smirk on Cole Mercer’s face vanished in a single instant.
His dark eyes widened slightly. His posture went completely rigid, his broad shoulders locking as he stared at the faded stitching. He reached out a thick, ringed hand, his fingers stopping just half an inch from touching the leather, as if afraid the historical piece might crumble.
"Where did you get this?" Cole asked. His voice was no longer casual or dismissive; it had dropped into a deep, gravelly baritone filled with an intense, quiet gravity.
Elena didn't turn around, keeping her eyes fixed on the illuminated glass storefront ahead.
"My father," she replied plainly.
Cole stepped back into her line of sight, his sharp features tight, his dark eyes searching her face with fierce intensity.
May you like
"Name?" Cole demanded.
"Daniel Reyes," Elena said.
