by Casey Morgan
Then she attacked me.
Chapter Three
Sandy
My driver was dead. My limo had crashed, and there was a fight going on outside. Having never been shot at before, I should have been scared, but no, I was enraged.
Blood thundered in my ears as I sat in the limo, trying to see what was going on in the scuffle. However, the cab had gotten crushed when it fell in the ditch, so it was difficult—broken glass and bent metal was everywhere. I heard what sounded like punching and the howl of a wolf, but then everything went quiet.
At first, I was hesitant to get out of the car, especially considering the driver still lay in a heap outside on the pavement. But after a few more seconds of quiet, I had to investigate.
Figuring that there still might be trouble outside, I grabbed for the closest weapon I could find. All that was available was a pink and blue polka-dotted umbrella I had bought when I was thirteen. It was old, faded, and not quite solid, but it was better than being empty-handed. I could club someone with it if I tried hard enough.
Crawling out of the limo wasn’t easy. The driver’s open door was the only way to get free, and it was up facing the sky. Climbing forward, using the leather seats as leverage, I made it through the barrier to the driver’s area. Reaching up, using all my strength, I pulled myself towards the sky. It was a tricky process, as I made sure that I didn’t catch myself on any pointed pieces of metal or broken glass.
Grabbing my umbrella, I jumped down, getting free of the crash as much as I could, and flipped my hair out of my face.
I was not alone.
There was a man on a Harley not fifteen feet away from me. I hissed in a breath, shocked as we locked eyes.
The stranger was a biker—a big guy with broad shoulders. I could see the swell of his muscles under the black, leather jacket he wore and the faded blue jeans. He had a close-trimmed beard and dark brown hair tied back with a bandanna. The jerk certainly was sexy. Every inch of him screamed bad news from the sneer that curled his lips to the thick fingertips that stood out against his leather open-finger gloves. But it was his light-blue eyes that bothered me the most. There was something about them that seemed otherworldly—a feeling that made my stomach twist.
There is my shooter, I thought. There is the asshole who killed the driver, and he’s just standing there like an idiot.
The large motorcycle shifted as the man cocked his hips, setting it back on the kickstand. After swinging his long leg over, he stood facing me with his arms crossed over his burly chest.
I thought that my heart was going to jump right out of my ribs, and I could barely breathe in his presence. He was so strangely handsome. How could the shooter be attractive? What was that about?
I saw red. That heated sensation I had felt in the limo before came back full force. Rage was like lava running through my veins. I wasn’t sure if this was the same dick who killed my father, but I was ready to blame him for both the murders I had witnessed. Revenge was at hand.
Blue and pink polka dots flashed in the air as I raised my only weapon. I charged toward the motorcycle, swinging the umbrella, and screaming with all my might.
“How dare you?” I screeched, hardly recognizing my own voice. “You took everything away from me! You took my father away. You took away my life. You're going to pay for this!”
This stranger was the recipient of every bit of the rage I had. As I got closer to the man, he stared at me blankly. That look fueled the fire within me more, almost to the point that I couldn’t think.
With all my might, I swung the umbrella at him, hoping to connect and do some real harm. It made a loud thunk noise when it landed against his chest. He didn't even budge; he just continued to stare at me, confused. So, I hit him again—thunk—and again—thunk. Over and over, I wapped the man on the shoulders, the stomach, and the arms, but he didn’t flinch or scream. The umbrella was hardly doing any damage to his huge, muscular frame.
“I have no idea what you're talking about!” snapped the biker as he glared at me like I was some little bug that was fluttering around his face.
I could feel the tears welling up before they fell. “Liar!” I screamed, hitting him some more.
His lips fell into a frown, and the huge man stepped towards me. He filled my space, forcing me to step back, and pushed me towards the crashed limo. He reached for the umbrella, telling me to stop hitting him. But I was too quick for him, much to his dismay. He rolled his eyes and sighed.
Then, he does something that I didn't expect: he wrapped his arms around me in a giant bear hug, trapping my arms at my sides and forcing me to drop my ineffective weapon.
I stopped moving and fell silent.
He was warm. I could smell his cologne, something woodsy but clean. Breathing it in, I felt my head start to clear. The red of the rage waned, replaced by a vast pit of sorrow. The kind of despair that could overwhelm you if you let it.
I dropped my head forward, feeling the sun-warmed leather of his jacket on my cheek. While I didn't appreciate being held and not being able to move, there was something oddly comforting about being in this stranger’s arms.
The tears were starting to well up again. I tried to stop them but couldn't. All I could feel was the loss of my family. My whole life was gone. It was ripped apart, and I didn’t even know where I was. Such a change was too much to handle.
I sat there sobbing in the arms of a complete stranger for what felt like an eternity.
Chapter Four
Blake
Why hadn't I just rode off into the sunset? I had, stupidly, put myself in this position. Now, I was holding a sobbing girl in my arms, and it was the last thing that I wanted to do.
Don't get me wrong; she was sexy as hell. Under normal circumstances, hugging a woman such as this in my embrace would have been a dream come true. But, hearing her crying so hard was making me very uncomfortable. It was rare that I was around a woman and never an emotional one.
I needed to get away from this situation… fast.
Gingerly, I picked her up. She didn’t fight me at all, just letting her feet swing. After carrying her over, I set her gently on the solid side of the limo, untangled her arms from mine, and started walking away.
“I hope you'll be okay,” I said casually over my shoulder.
And I really did. My heart went out to the poor girl. She obviously was having a rough day before I came along, and it didn't look like it was getting any better.
I got about three feet away from her when another gunshot rang out. Instinctively, I turned back, grabbed the girl, pushed her to the ground, and keep my head down. A zing was loud in my ear. The bullets were getting closer. Scooping the girl into my arms, I wiggled and pulled us to the far side of the limo. The shooter had to run out of ammo soon. Then we could run.
And just why the fuck was I dodging bullets, anyway? I was supposed to be on a leisurely drive over the mountains, not on the losing side of a gun battle pressed up against a beautiful, curvy young woman. I was stupid and should have kept my temper earlier.
I could feel her warm, soft body under mine pressed to the road. Her breasts were squished into my chest, moving with the panting of her breath. Thank God she hadn’t started screaming.
Had this been under any other circumstances, I could think of about a hundred different positions that I could put her in that would have been more enjoyable. But, nonetheless, there I was, my body weighing down on hers, my nose barely inches from her face. I had to calm myself down. I was starting to get too excited, getting a sudden flash of desire.
Get it together, I thought to myself. If I wasn’t careful, pretty soon it was going to be painfully obvious what was going on with me if I got hard.
More shots rang out, and I felt her flinch beneath me. I looked down at the girl to make sure that she was okay and got drawn into her eyes. They were beautiful and deep like pools of dark water. It was harder to control my urges the longer that I stared into her gaze. And I was afraid that she was probabl
y starting to notice.
“What are you doing?” the woman asked in a way that seemed more accusatory than inquisitive.
“I’m saving your life,” I told her, almost flabbergasted that she could be anything but grateful that I was keeping the flying bullets from searing her skin.
“Wait, so you aren’t one of the men after me?” she asked, sounding thoroughly confused.
I was starting to understand what was going on. She didn’t know that I was the savior and not the villain. I figured it would be best for me to explain things to her.
“No, I’m not,” I said firmly but still whispering. “I was riding past on my bike, and I saw the whole scene with your limo. I was just passing by. Honestly, I had no idea this was going to happen.”
Her eyes searched mine as if she was trying to see if I was telling the truth. After a few moments, she nodded.
Another plink from a gunshot reminded me why we were still pressed on the ground behind the wrecked limo. We had to get out of there, or this girl was going to end up dead.
Another shot hit the side view mirror shattering it to pieces. Some of the glass scattered close to us, and I hugged the girl tighter, trying to protect her with my leather. This gunman was really starting to piss me off. I wanted to chase after the asshole and make him pay for shooting at me, but I knew that there was no way that I could hunt and protect the girl.
So, the next best option was for us to run.
Fuck, I thought to myself. Now I’m thinking “us” when I need to be getting as far away from this chick as possible.
Letting out a grumbly sigh, I looked the girl in the face. “When I run, I need you to follow close behind me, okay?” I told her, squeezing her shoulders while I talked. She nodded at me, showing that she understood.
Looking up, I made sure that the coast was clear. The shooting had slowed; The dickhead must have been running out of ammo by now. I grabbed her hand, pulling the girl to her feet. Making a run for my bike, I turned it on before I even picked the kickstand up fully off the ground.
“Get on!” I yelled at the girl, motioning for her to climb onto the back of my bike.
She did, clinging to my waist for dear life as I sped off down the road leaving the shooting and the shooter behind me.
With a roar of the engine, we flew down the mountain highway. The wind tore at us, the sun beating high in the afternoon sky. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was escaping some shooters, this might be a lovely sunny afternoon ride.
But it wasn’t that. And even though I had a beautiful girl’s arms wrapped around me, this wasn’t a date. This was me getting her out of harm’s way and moving on with my life.
I had to admit, though, her arms felt really good wrapped around me.
Get ahold of yourself, I thought. I knew better than to get attached to a human. It was stupid and pointless. Everyone involved would only get hurt.
I drove as fast as I could. Turning on a dime, I made her hold on tighter as my motorcycle careened down the twisting road. After a few turns, I noticed a truck stop off in the distance. I smiled, feeling like my luck was turning. I sped up, pulling into the back of the truck stop and then stopping so fast I thought that we both were going to fly off.
Then, I pushed the human off the back of my bike.
“Get lost,” I said gruffly.
She glared at me, her body a crumpled heap on the ground.
“What do you mean ‘get lost’?” she asked angrily. “I have nowhere to go. You’re just going to drop me off in the middle of nowhere and abandon me? You have to help me.”
She crossed her arms and stood up in front of my bike as if she was daring me to hit her.
“No, I shouldn’t have helped you in the first place,” I snapped at her. “Then I wouldn’t be in this position. Now, I have people I don’t know shooting at me for reasons that I have no idea about. I just want this whole nightmare to be over.”
The girl paused, looking around in desperation.
“I’m Sandy,” she said, extending a hand in my direction. I just stared at her. My silence didn’t stop her, though. “My name is Sandy, and if you can get me to somewhere safe, I...I can pay you.”
She stepped toward me, intertwining her fingers like she was praying, her eyes hopeful that I would accept her terms.
I wasn’t going to, though.
“I don’t care about your money,” I spat. “You should keep it to hire someone to protect you. It looks like you’re going to need it.”
I looked down the road in the direction that we had just come. I imagined the shooters pulling into the truck stop and finishing the job. It would be horrible, but, again, not my problem.
I got ready to drive off.
But, for some reason, I just could not leave. The human woman stared at me with those big brown eyes, which were so hard to resist. I cursed myself for being so soft as I realized I was about to do another dumb thing.
I dropped my shoulders with a sigh. “Okay, look, I’ll watch over you for two days,” I told her. “After that, you’re on your own.”
“Thank you,” she said, running up to me and wrapping her arms around my neck. I didn’t move. I just stood there, feeling utterly uncomfortable by the exchange.
I freed myself from her arms and grabbed my saddlebags, deciding to check into the truck stop’s motel and take it from there.
When I turned around to tell the girl, Sandy, my plan, I almost fell over her because she was right on my heels. There was no way I was getting away from her now.
Chapter Five
Sandy
I could almost hear spooky music playing as we walked up to the truck stop’s dilapidated hotel. It was amazing that this building was still standing. There were cracks in the walls taller than me, the red and white paint was chipped and flaking, and most worrisome, the awning that framed the office was visibly leaning to the left. The thought of staying in such a ramshackle place was giving me shivers up and down the spine—there was no way it could be clean—but if I wanted the biker’s protection, I had to follow his lead.
I jumped when something moved in the bushes, convinced that it was once of the men who had come back to murder me. But it turned out that it was just a squirrel rustling through a pile of trash for food. Wrappers from fast food mingled with something brown and so stinky I had to hold my breath. It was abhorrent.
There was no way I was going to be able to stay here. This place was literally a dump. I had to say something.
“Hey, sir…”
“Sir?” He stopped and turned around.
“Um, Mr. Biker-dude…”
He smiled at my awkwardness. “Blake. My name is Blake.”
“Blake, I can’t stay in a motel this sleazy,” I said, pulling on the sleeve of the biker’s coat. “It looks like a crime is about to be committed here at any minute. Please, can we find somewhere that doesn’t look like the scene from a horror movie?”
The man laughed softly at first until he was doubled over slapping his knee.
“You don’t really have a choice, princess,” he said. “My show, my rules. And unless you want to put yourself in more danger riding up and down the highway looking for another place to stay, this one will have to do.”
He stood staring at me, waiting for a reply, his jaw clenching. After a few minutes, when I couldn’t think of a good argument against his point, he rolled his eyes. He stalked inside the office of the motel, motioning for me to follow him.
“We’ll take two adjoining rooms,” Blake said once we reached the front desk.
The balding clerk looked mildly irritated like we were interrupting a much-needed nap by being there.
“We have one set of adjoining rooms left,” he said, sleepily clicking buttons on the computer. “That’ll be seventy-five dollars.”
“Pay the man,” Blake instructed me.
I reached for my purse and swore. I had left it in the limo. All my cash was gone. “I don’t have it,” I admitted. “All my mon
ey got left in the back of the limo.”
The biker chuckled again and shook his head. “Well, I guess that’s that,” he said, a look of utter amusement on his face. “No way we are going back to that mess. You’re on your own again.”
I pulled Blake away from the desk.
“Look, my family is wealthy, but I don’t have any money at the moment,” I said, trying to keep my voice as low as possible. I glanced at the clerk, who was obviously watching us. “If you pay now, I will cover your expenses as well as pay you for the two days. Deal?” I stuck my hand out for him to shake, trying to look professional.
The man simply sighed and rolled his eyes. Ignoring my gesture, he stepped up to the front desk and smiled at the clerk, snubbing my presence altogether.
“Can we just get one room for the night, please?” he asked, his voice syrupy sweet.
“Right away, sir,” said the clerk, typing away happily at the computer.
I wasn’t exactly trying to get shot at again, but I also wasn’t thrilled about the idea of having to spend the night with a complete stranger.
“Hey, I’m really not cool with all of this...” I began, voicing my thoughts.
“This is all I can afford right now,” Blake snapped at me. “Not everyone has a rich family.”
I clamped my mouth shut, speechless. I also decided that it was smarter to be quiet than to make an enemy out of the one person who seemed to be looking out for me.
Once the bill was paid, Blake grabbed the room key and immediately walked up the stairs to the second floor where our room was. He glanced back once to make sure I was following. Still worried about the structure's integrity, I tiptoed after him down the hall to one of the last rooms on the second floor. The door was missing a number.
The biker opened the door and moved aside, motioning for me to enter the room first. He acted like such a gentleman that part of me felt terrible for shaming him about money in front of the clerk. I figured that I’d better be nice to him, or the next two days would not go well.
