Chapter 1: Viper’s Nest11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwhgchaMvFx
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Thirty minutes later, Alice regretted her choice when they pulled up to the bar. The Viper's Nest stood like a fortress on the outskirts of town, nestled in what everyone still calls the "Rust District". Crowds of people drinking and yelling stood outside in the parking lot. Fires were alight in old barrels. Couples were making out, and a row of gleaming motorcycles lined up out front, their chrome accents reflecting the faint light from the dim street lamps. Some bikes were sleek and polished, while others looked like they'd been through years of hard riding—scuffed, patched, and covered in dust. The low growl of engines occasionally punctuated the air as riders arrived, joining the intimidating lineup.
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“Come on. This was your idea.” Susy pulled her from the car, and they moved through the herd of bodies, closely followed by Ben and Tony.
Alice stuck out like a sore thumb, wearing a blue dress in a sea of black leather jackets and mini skirts. At least Susy, wearing a pair of dark jeans, and the boys in black sportswear, didn't look too out of place.
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The building itself was old and weathered, with its original brickwork cracked and faded. A large neon viper coiled around a glowing sign above the entrance, the flickering green light casting an eerie glow over the scene. As they approached the heavy metal door, the rumble of music and voices seeped out, growing louder as Susy pushed it open.
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Inside, the bar was dimly lit, the atmosphere thick with smoke and the smell of leather, sweat, and spilled beer. The low, constant hum of conversations mixed with the heavy bass of rock music pouring from an old jukebox in the corner.
The interior was a mix of battered furniture and dark wood, with deep scars that told stories of long nights and rowdy brawls. The walls were covered with faded posters of rock legends, neon beer signs, and framed pictures of gang members.
At the bar itself, a massive man with a graying beard—who everyone kept calling Pink Petey—was serving drinks, his tribal tattoos creeping up his thick arms. His face was weathered, and his scowl looked permanent, but he handled the row of customers like he was in complete control of his domain. Behind him, rows of liquor bottles glinted in the light, the shelves lined with everything from cheap whiskey to expensive bourbon.
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The locals were just as rough as the bar itself. Tattoos and scars escaped from underneath the men's leather jackets with the Viper logo, their hardened expressions enough to make anyone think twice before crossing them.
Many of the women looked just as tough, lounging in the booths or perched on the edge of bar stools, their eyes sharp and watchful.
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A group of bikers was playing pool in the back, the crack of a solid shot momentarily breaking through the noise. In another corner, a couple was locked in an intense conversation, while a trio of men stood by the bar, laughing loudly as they threw back shots.
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Alice took it all in, the atmosphere vibrating with a kind of raw energy—dangerous, yes, but thrilling too. It was the kind of place that made you want to stay on your toes, where you could feel a fight brewing under the surface at any given moment. Yet, despite the underlying tension, there was a strange brotherhood among the regulars, like they belonged to something larger than themselves.
She glanced at her friends, noting the nervous looks on Ben and Susy’s faces, while Tony just grinned, seemingly at home in the chaos. Alice’s own heart raced with anticipation. This wasn’t a typical bar, but it was exactly the kind of adventure she had been craving.
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Yes, the Snake Bar was fun—for about an hour. There was dancing, drinking, and even some impromptu singing, as the jukebox belted out rock anthems and the group settled into the chaotic energy of the place. But then, as it so often does in places like this, all hell broke loose.
It started with two customers getting into a heated argument near the pool table. Voices rose, and before anyone could intervene, punches were thrown. The brawl escalated quickly, tables and chairs scraping as people either backed away or jumped in, hoping to break it up or make it worse. In the midst of the chaos, Tony, in his attempt to sidestep the brawling men, accidentally bumped into one of the gang members—a hulk of a guy with a shaved head and tribal tattoos creeping up his neck.
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The biker turned to Tony with a sneer, sizing him up like a predator would its prey. "You wanna go?" he growled, cracking his knuckles. Tony, never one to back down from a challenge, tried to defuse the situation, but it was too late. The guy had already decided Tony was his target.
Tony gave as good as he got, throwing punches with surprising skill, but the biker was bigger, meaner, and had years of bar fights under his belt. Eventually, the brute gained the upper hand, landing blow after blow until Tony's face was a mess of blood and bruises.
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Alice’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched her friend get pummeled.
Without thinking, she lunged toward the bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and smashing it over the biker's head. The glass shattered, the sharp crack silencing the immediate vicinity as the man staggered, stunned by the unexpected hit.
Before he could react, Alice held the broken bottle inches from his face, her eyes cold and unwavering. “Touch him again, and I’ll stick this in your face,” she threatened, her voice low and lethal. A thin line of blood dripped from a small cut on his cheek, her warning making it crystal clear she wasn’t bluffing.
For a tense moment, it looked like the biker was going to retaliate, but then a deep, commanding voice boomed from above: “Enough!”
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The single word cut through the chaos like a knife, instantly silencing the entire bar. You could’ve heard a pin drop as all eyes turned toward the balcony. A man stood there, larger than life, with a rugged handsome face that demanded respect. His presence alone seemed to carry the weight of authority, and even the rowdiest bikers instantly froze at the sound of his voice.
He descended the stairs with deliberate slowness, the wooden steps creaking under his heavy boots. As he stepped onto the main floor, the crowd parted for him like the Red Sea, a palpable tension hanging in the air. It didn’t take long for Alice to realize who this was—Jax Ryder. Only, he wasn’t the short scrawny kid from high school anymore.
He was tall now, with broad shoulders, a face framed by stubble, and arms covered in complex tribal tattoos. His eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the room before landing on Alice and the biker she had just threatened.
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Alice immediately and irrelevantly noticed how good-looking Jax had become—imposing with a muscled body in tight jeans and leather.
His hair was dark brown and curly, falling over his forehead in a little wave. He glared at Alice first and then at Tony.
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a problem,” he said, his voice rough as gravel. He turned to the biker. “Stand down.”
The biker, still fuming but clearly outmatched by Jax's authority, reluctantly backed off, wiping the blood from his face as he shot Alice a glare.
Jax turned to Alice, his expression unreadable. “Brave move, Alice.”
Alice was momentarily shocked that he remembered her name, and the confusion must have shown on her face.
"Mhm, I remember you, Alice Carter."
Alice straightened, refusing to be intimidated, even by him. "And I remember you... vaguely."
“You attacked my friend Eddie here with a weapon." He gently grabbed the bottle from Alice's unresisting fingers, placed a firm hand on her hip, and eased her back against the bar, holding her in place.
"He struck first. I was just protecting my friend.”
Jax nodded slowly, his gaze shifting to Tony, whose face was now swollen and bloodied. “And Eddie will be punished for that. But you broke our rules and used a weapon to do it. Blood demands blood, Alice. That's the way it has always been."
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Just then, Ben lost his nerve and made a break for it, trying to dodge around the gang members and get to the exit.
Alice was vaguely aware of men taking off after her friend, but she had her own problems at the moment, and one of them had pushed his handsome face right up into hers.
As Jax leaned in, her attention was drawn once more to his chiseled jaw. She involuntarily licked her lips at the proximity of his face, but quickly looked away when she found his penetrating gaze lingered on her mouth.
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Never taking his eyes from Alice, Jax took her wrist in a firm grip—not hard enough to bruise but enough to keep her in place, daring her to test his control.
She yanked slightly but futile against his powerful hold, his fingers subtly rubbing her skin. "Let go of me, Jax. I didn’t have a choice—you saw what he was doing to Tony."
Jax tightened his grip, his face inches from hers. "Doesn't matter what you think you had to do. You spilled blood—our blood—on my territory."
Alice pleaded with him, her voice sharp and defiant. "And what was I supposed to do? Let him beat Tony to death while you all just stood there? I didn’t start this fight."
Jax’s gaze softened slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "I know that, sweetheart. But there’s always a price for spilling blood. And you, Alice Carter, just set yourself up to pay."
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Alice could hear Susy, and the recaptured Ben pleading silently as they were being held, more firmly than her if the noises were anything to go by.
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Alice's eyes narrowed, her pulse racing as she stared Jax down. "What do you want from us?"
Jax's smirk faded, his voice dropping to something more dangerous. "Us? No, Alice. Just you."
Her breath hitched as she caught the shift in his tone. "You want money?"
Jax laughed quietly, still holding her wrist, his thumb lightly brushing her skin. "Money? No, I don't think so."
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There’s something unspoken between them now—an undeniable chemistry that’s been simmering beneath the surface since they locked eyes earlier that night. She feels the intensity of his gaze, the magnetic pull between them, and for a moment, the tension has nothing to do with the fight.
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Alice is afraid to ask now, but she does anyway, her voice wavering slightly. "What do you want, Jax?"
Jax leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear as he speaks softly, intimately. "You know exactly what I want, Alice."
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Her heart pounded in her chest as his words sank in. She felt the heat between them—old memories from high school rushing back.
She lied before, to her friends, to him, about barely remembering. She did remember—the way they used to watch each other across the room, too young to act on anything. But this… it was different now, charged and dangerous.
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Alice met his gaze steadily, her voice barely above a whisper. "You’re not seriously holding a grudge after all these years?"
Jax loosened his grip on her wrist, but not enough to let her go, his voice soft but commanding. "Not a grudge, Alice. But you owe me a date." He traced her wrist teasingly, eliciting a slight shiver, and didn't once look away. "And with all the years of interest, it better come with a happy ending."
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Alice felt her knees weaken at the words spoken so calmly, yet bluntly, by the rough man holding her.
His hand was so warm against her skin. As his fingers played softly with her wrist, her nipples grew hard, pushing against the inside of her bra.
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Alice cleared her throat and locked eyes with him once more. "What if I say no?"
Jax stepped closer again, his eyes darkening, filled with something primal. "You don’t get to say no. Not here. Not now. Not to me."
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For a moment, they stood there, the air heavy with the weight of his expressed desire. His hand still held Alice's arm tightly, but now it felt less like a grip to restrain her and more like a chain, a way of asserting control. The realization stirred anger in Alice, a smoldering rage. Her mind raced, scrambling for a way out of this mess, when she suddenly remembered the knife tucked into her boot.
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Suddenly, Susy’s sobs cut through the tension, her voice breaking as she pleaded for Jax to let them go. The distraction was all Alice needed. Moving carefully, she lifted her leg, stealthily retrieving the blade. Before Jax could react, she pressed the cold steel against his crotch, the point pressing dangerously against his balls.
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Jax immediately looked down, clear amusement flickering in his eyes as he saw the knife. A slow smile spread across his face, but Alice mirrored his grin, her gaze defiant, daring him to make the next move.
Jax could feel the knife cutting through his jeans. The cold blade scratching his balls, making him soft and hard at the same time. "You want to walk away now? Fine. But you owe me, Alice. And I always collect."
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Alice's heart raced as their eyes met, a mixture of fear and something deeper—something she couldn’t deny any longer. There was a fire between them, undeniable and dangerous.
She glanced down at the knife as she felt a throbbing against the blade and caught sight of his erection, stretching his jeans.
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Jax lowered his face next to hers, breathing in deeply, his nose lingering near her neck. He let out a low growl of pleasure. "Stay. Or leave. Either way, you’re mine now, Alice. The price has been decided. The price is you."
Even with her panties dampening, Alice felt an outrage and refused to be dominated. "I don’t belong to anyone!"
Jax leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered. "You will. To me."
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With that, he gave a final look that told everyone in the bar to stand down, then turned and walked back up the stairs, his presence still lingering like a storm even after he disappeared into the shadows.
The tension in the bar began to ease, the murmurs of conversation slowly returning, the fight was over. Alice exhaled, her hands still trembling from the adrenaline, but she stood her ground—and for now, it seemed, that was enough.
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Her cheeks were still flushed as Susy pulled her toward the exit, while Ben, supporting a bruised but alive Tony, helped him stumble through the door.
As she left, Alice looked back once at the building and thought she saw Jax watching her intently from the upstairs window. Doing a double-take, she found no one was there. Even though she was outside in the open now, she still couldn't shake the lust in his eyes.
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