Claimed By the Bad Boy

The alleyway was darker than usual, the dim streetlights barely penetrating the thick veil of night that hung over the city. Emma’s footsteps echoed softly on the cracked pavement as she made her way home from the diner, her body weary from a long shift. She pulled her jacket tighter around her to ward off the chill in the air, her breath forming small clouds in front of her face. Emma had always known the dangers of walking alone at night, especially in a neighborhood like this. But she didn’t have much choice. Her tiny apartment was just a few blocks away, and the bus stop was too far to make it worth the wait. She’d done this walk hundreds of times, each one a little quicker than the last, her eyes always scanning the shadows for any sign of trouble. Tonight, though, she was distracted. Her thoughts were consumed with the pile of bills waiting on her kitchen counter, each one a little more urgent than the last. Rent was due in a few days, and the tips had been lousy. She needed a second job, something to fill in the gaps that her waitressing gig couldn’t cover. But finding work wasn’t easy, not with her lack of experience and a résumé that was as thin as the diner’s napkins. She was so lost in thought that she almost didn’t notice the three men blocking the mouth of the alley until it was too late. They were leaning against the walls, their postures casual but their eyes sharp, tracking her every move. Emma’s heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively slowed her pace, her grip tightening on her bag. “Hey there, pretty lady,” one of them called out, his voice a low, mocking drawl. “What’s a girl like you doing out here all alone?” Emma’s stomach twisted with a mix of fear and frustration. She knew better than to engage, to give them any reason to think she was interested in talking. She kept her head down and tried to skirt around them, her eyes focused on the ground in front of her. But they weren’t having it. The tallest of the three stepped into her path, blocking her way. He was broad-shouldered, with a face that looked like it had seen its fair share of fights. His smile was crooked, more of a sneer than anything else. “Where you going in such a hurry?” he asked, leaning in close enough that she could smell the stale beer on his breath. Emma took a step back, her heart hammering in her chest. “Just trying to get home,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her veins. “I don’t want any trouble.” The man chuckled, a dark, humorless sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Oh, I think you do,” he said. “I think you’re just playing hard to get.” The other two men laughed, moving closer, hemming her in. Emma’s mind raced, trying to come up with a plan. She still had the can of pepper spray in her pocket, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to use it before they grabbed her. And even if she did, there were three of them. “Look,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm and measured. “I don’t want any trouble. Just let me go, and I won’t say anything to anyone. I promise.” The man in front of her grinned wider. “Oh, we’re not worried about that,” he said. “But see, we’re bored, and you look like you could provide a little entertainment.” Emma’s pulse quickened. She could feel the adrenaline kicking in, her body preparing for a fight. She had been in enough tough situations in her life to know that she couldn’t afford to show weakness. She needed to stand her ground, make them think twice about messing with her. “Back off,” she said, her voice hardening. “I’m not interested.” The man’s grin faded, replaced by a scowl. “Feisty one, huh?” he muttered. “I like that.” He reached out to grab her arm, but Emma was ready. She swung her bag up, catching him in the side of the head. He stumbled back, cursing, and she took the opportunity to reach for her pepper spray. But she wasn’t fast enough. One of the other men lunged at her, knocking the can from her hand. She kicked out, trying to keep them at bay, but they were too strong. They grabbed her, twisting her arms behind her back and forcing her down to her knees. Emma struggled, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. She could feel the cold, rough pavement digging into her skin, the weight of their hands pinning her down. She knew she was in serious trouble. And then, suddenly, everything changed. There was a roar—a deep, growling sound that seemed to shake the very ground beneath her. The men paused, their heads snapping up in surprise. A moment later, a motorcycle came skidding into the alley, its headlights blinding in the darkness. The bike came to a stop just a few feet away, and the rider dismounted in one swift, fluid motion. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his face hidden beneath the shadow of his helmet. Even in the dim light, Emma could see the emblem on his leather jacket—the fierce, snarling wolf of the Steel Wolves MC. “Let her go,” the rider commanded, his voice low and filled with an unmistakable authority. The men hesitated, glancing at each other, clearly unsure of what to do. But the rider didn’t give them a chance to decide. He moved forward with a speed and precision that took Emma’s breath away. In a matter of seconds, he had one of the men on the ground, his fist connecting with a sickening crunch. The other two tried to fight back, but they were no match for him. He moved like a force of nature, each blow precise and devastating. Within moments, all three were lying on the ground, groaning in pain. The rider turned his attention to Emma, his gaze softening slightly as he crouched down beside her. He reached up, removing his helmet, and Emma finally got a clear look at his face. His dark hair was tousled, his jaw set in a hard line, but his eyes… his eyes were a deep, piercing blue that seemed to see right through her. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentler now, almost concerned. Emma nodded, though she wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth. She could feel the adrenaline wearing off, the pain in her side flaring up again. “I… I think so,” she said, her voice shaky. He reached out, his hand brushing against her arm as he helped her to her feet. She winced, feeling a sharp pain shoot through her ribs, but she managed to stand with his support. “You’re hurt,” he said, his brow furrowing. “Let me take you somewhere safe. We’ve got a medic at the clubhouse who can take a look at you.” Emma hesitated, her instincts screaming at her not to trust this stranger, even if he had just saved her life. But she was in no condition to argue, and she didn’t have any other options. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But… who are you?” He paused for a moment, then gave her a small, almost reluctant smile. “Jax,” he said simply. “I’m with the Steel Wolves.” Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the Steel Wolves. She had heard stories about them—whispers of their dangerous reputation, their strict code of loyalty, their willingness to do whatever it took to protect their own. “I’m Emma,” she said softly, her eyes searching his. “Thank you… for saving me.” Jax nodded, his expression unreadable. “Come on,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Let’s get you out of here.” He helped her over to his bike, guiding her gently onto the seat in front of him. She could feel his solid presence behind her, his arms encircling her protectively as he revved the engine and took off into the night. As they rode through the dark streets, Emma closed her eyes, feeling the wind whip through her hair and the warmth of Jax’s body against hers. She didn’t know where he was taking her, or what awaited her at the Steel Wolves’ clubhouse, but for the first time in a long time, she felt a strange sense of safety.