Getaway (Restless Motorcycle Club Romance) by Julia Marie Page B

I’d be met by the handsome man in the tailored suit. The part of my mind that was still convinced this was some elaborate prank thought that maybe I would get there and have a bunch of people jump out and yell ‘surprise.’
     
    That wasn’t what I found. I pulled up the message on my phone just to make sure that Google had taken me to the right place.
     
    Holy crap.
     
    It was a large building with a big lawn, made entirely of darkened and tinted glass. There was no signage anywhere that might indicate what went on behind those windows. It looked like a fortress, complete with a wall and a guardhouse presiding over a gate that blocked entry to the driveway and parking lot.
     
    This has to be a joke.
     
    I knew it couldn’t be. The sad truth was that I didn’t have anyone close enough who would put in so much effort for a prank. The whole situation had to be real.
     
    Suddenly doubly as nervous and completely doubting myself, I considered just driving away. Shane seemed like a reasonable man, and there was probably a good explanation for everything that was going on. I could just shove it all onto him, quit, and let all of this craziness sweep on without me. It would be the sensible thing to do.
     
    Of course, I had already snooped in the motorcycle club’s affairs and then run away from him. I remembered the passion in his voice and the command in his eyes. He wouldn’t like what I’d done, and I doubted that I’d be able to convince him that I wanted no part in him, because the truth was that I wasn’t sure about that at all.
     
    There was no choice but to keep going.
     
    The guard shack was manned by a steely-eyed man with a weapon holstered. My mouth dried up and I had no idea what to say. The guard looked at me and my car, before referencing the screen beside him.
     
    “You are cleared to enter. Check in at the front desk.”
     
    The cast iron gate rolled to the side, and I entered the parking lot. There were a handful of visitor parking spaces at the front, which struck me as odd. Such an imposing, mysterious structure and campus, and yet there was something as mundane as visitor parking.
     
    Well, I guess I qualify. I just wish I knew what I was visiting. For a shady organization that goes around blackmailing people with vague threats about ruining their lives, this is a really nice building and facility.
     
    The lobby of the building was typical of the few big business places I had been in – it reminded me of a bank downtown. There were a few people behind a reception desk, as well as more sober-looking security guards.
     
    “Hello?” I asked at the desk. “I was told to come here?”
     
    The woman was in her thirties, and she smiled at me, the first hint of a positive expression I saw. “You must be Miss Maguire. Please take a seat right over there, and Agent Thompson will be right with you.”
     
    “Agent?” I asked. The only response was another smile.
     
    That’s a little presumptuous. Talk about a secretive organization, they even call their people agents. It was starting to feel like I was in a movie again.
     
    My ass had barely hit leather when I heard my name again.
     
    “Miss Maguire,” the familiar voice said. “Forgive me for all of the runaround, but we have to do things a certain way here. I am Agent Thompson, and welcome to the headquarters.”
     
    It was nice to see a familiar face, even if it was of the man who had taken a giant dump on my week by blackmailing me for information on Shane Hamilton. “Headquarters? Agent? Okay, seriously, who the hell are you people?”
     
    His face was impassive as he took my questions in stride, but I could have sworn that I saw a bit of a twinkle in his eye.
     
    Prick.
     
    “Let’s first go to my office, and then you can show me what you’ve brought with you,” he pointed at the files in my hand. “And then I will give you a bit more of an idea of what exactly is going on here.”
     
    “It’s about time,” I