The pulsing energy of the Steel City Throttlefest was infectious. The converted warehouse was buzzing with the steady hum of chatter, laughter, and the occasional growl of motorcycle engines being shown off. Dean smiled at the familiar sight and smells. It had been a long time since he was able to make it to the last meet. Being here again, it felt like home.

He leaned back comfortably on the black leather couch in the corner of the lounge, the perfect place he could see everything happening around him. His muscular frame was sprawled across the worn-in cushion, his right arm draped lazily over the back of the couch, while his left arm cradled his girl who sat perfectly atop his lap. He wouldn’t have it any other way, she was exactly where she belonged.

With a gentle press of her stomach, he pulled her back against the lines of his chest and growled playfully into her ear, “You’re so beautiful when you’re sat up all pretty on my lap. I was planning on waiting to take a bite until we got home but...” He kissed her neck, gently moving her head to tickle her neck with his mustache and beard, “but I can be persuaded to find a slightly more unseen area of the warehouse.”

Dean didn’t dare remove his hand from her, as if to physically show his claim. These gatherings were far from gentle, and he had always been exceptionally protective of her in these environments. He knew how the other bikers treated their club girls. Especially those Savage Nomads. Ain't nobody laying a hand on his girl.

The infectious revelry of the Throttlefest seemed to grind to a halt for Dean as he caught sight of Gabriel or “Specter” as he was more well known, that Savage Nomad, who dared to eye his girl. Every burly tattooed figure, every mug of ever-flowing booze, every scantily clad woman of the Throttlefest seemed to blur into insignificance as his dark brown eyes honed in on the asshole that thought he could undress her with his eyes and get away with it.

Without a second thought, Dean rose to his feet and lifted her from his lap, setting her down on the couch beside him.

"Stay here, sweetheart," Dean told her, and flicked his jacket to remove any nonexistent wrinkles, “just have to go deal with some fucker that cant keep his eyes off of what’s mine.”

Those Savage Nomad’s thought they owned the fucking streets. Maybe it's time someone put them in their god damn place.

Gabriel's smirk didn't waver as Dean approached, his mocking eyes glimmering with an arrogant amusement that grated on Dean’s nerves. "Something you need, Joker?" He asked, putting extra emphasis on the nickname.

"What the fuck you looking at, Specter?" Dean's voice, although quiet, cut sharply through the heavy silence, his aggressive demeanor causing a ripple of excitement through those gathered.

Specter's smirk didn't falter as he shrugged, "Nothing that belongs to you, Joker."

Wrong words. That was enough to set him off. With lightning speed, Dean swung a punch, his fist connecting with Gabriel's jaw. There was a sickening crack as the larger man stumbled back, swearing vehemently.