Temper

by Chantal Fernando

Come on. They can’t expect me to not try anything. They’ve fucking taken me without my consent, and I don’t care how they try to justify that, but it’s not okay. They can try the whole “it’s for my best interest and safety” bit all they want, but I’m a grown woman and I should be the one making decisions for myself, no one else.

  I wait patiently as he unties my feet first, and then my hands. I don’t miss Temper’s bike pulling in next to us, and this is the first time I’m going to face him since the whole kidnapping spiel.

  I’m not going to lie, I’m scared, I’m numb, but more than anything, I’m fucking angry.

  I trusted him, I let him in, and this is what I get.

  I don’t know why I’m so surprised, given who he is, but I am. I thought Temper and I had a connection. I don’t know, my gut instinct was telling me that I could trust him, which just goes to show I have zero common sense and should probably never be let out alone again.

  Temper opens my car door and stares down at me, those brown eyes I was melting into only a few hours ago now cold and emotionless.

  What a talent he has, to be able to turn his feelings off and on like a faucet.

  “Come on,” he says, offering me his hand. “I’ll walk you in.”

  His tone, the one I was getting used to, is no longer gentle. Now it’s strictly business, and it pisses me off even further.

  I ignore his hand and stand up of my own accord. “How kind of you.”

  He gently holds on to my upper arm and leads me inside, straight to the restroom before I can even get a chance to look around. Opening the door to the female toilets, he says, “You have three minutes.”

  “Great,” I reply, slamming the door in his face.

  Turning around, I scan the bathroom looking for an escape route. There’s a window above the sinks, but I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to fit through it... Fuck it, I have nothing to lose at this point and I’m going to do everything I can to get away.

  Standing up on the counter, I slowly open the window, attempting not to make a noise. Once it’s fully open, I move forward and try to push myself through it, my body half dangling out, my hips stuck.

  “Fuck,” I whisper, swiveling my body, my legs flopping around behind me.

  If Temper walks in right now...

  Realizing this plan isn’t going to work, I attempt to push my body back down, but that doesn’t seem to work either.

  I’m stuck.

  In the gas station window, trying to escape from my crush slash captor.

  Shit like this could only happen to me.

  Chapter Six

  I hear the door open, and then...laughter. The booming sound makes me clench my fists and want to yell at him.

  “Quite the view from here,” he says, and I know he’s staring at my ass, which is perched up in the air waiting for someone to save it. Thank God I didn’t wear a dress tonight.

  “Can you just...not give me any shit and help me down?” I call out, pursing my lips, wiggling, still trying to get free. “This isn’t exactly the most comfortable position I’ve ever been in.”

  Understatement of the year.

  Big hands cup my hips and I suck my stomach in as he gently pulls me back down on the counter.

  “You don’t need to try to escape me, Abbie. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, all right? You just need to trust me right now, and let me fix what has happened.” His tone is back to being gentle, like he’s letting himself open up again. The stoic, emotionless Temper gone once more.

  Oh, so now he’s trying to be nice. Did he realize the big bad captor thing wasn’t working on me, so he’s trying a different tactic?

  “You kidnapped me,” I state, sitting down on the counter and staring daggers at him. “And you’re acting like I’m supposed to be okay with this! That is not okay, Temper. I don’t care who you are. And you’re not my president, so guess what? I don’t have to listen to you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re an asshole, and going on that date with you was the biggest mistake of my life. Now why don’t you let me go before the cops start looking for you, and we can just call it a day?”

  He looks me dead in the eye, and I don’t miss the regret and sadness there. “I should have taken you straight home. But I didn’t. I wanted to stretch out our fuckin’ date as much as I could and now it’s landed us here, in this messed-up situation. But I’m trying to handle it, okay? I couldn’t just leave you back there, knowing what you saw, and knowing those men also saw you.”

  In some fucked-up way, even though it’s the same thing Chains and Crow said to me in the car, I can see it from his side and get where he’s coming from. He had seconds to think about what to do and he made this decision. However, in my world, kidnapping someone is not the appropriate answer. To him, this seems almost normal, and I’m not okay with that.

  He thinks he can do whatever the hell he wants, and somehow justifies it to himself.

  It’s fucked.

  “You tied me up,” I say, scanning his gaze. “And left me in a car with men I don’t know. None of these things are normal.”

  He sighs. “You’re right. I made the wrong call. But I can’t go back and fix what happened.”

  I appreciate his honesty and admitting fault, but it doesn’t change anything. “I need to call my sister and let her know I’m okay. Can you at least let me do that? She’s going to be worried sick.”

  He studies me. “And what are you going to tell your sister?”

  Looking down at my hands, I say, “That I’m okay and not to worry.”

  “More like tell her where you are and to call the cops,” he replies in a dry tone, pulling me off the counter and leads me back outside.

  After my first botched attempt at an escape, and with nothing to lose, I decide to try once more. I look toward the gas station attendant and call out for help.

  “Help me! Call the police! He kidnapped me!” I scream as he simply looks at Temper and says, “See you next time.”

  My jaw drops open and I stop short, Temper nearly colliding with me. I turn toward him. “Seriously? What, you have gas attendants on your payroll? What kind of bullshit operation is this?”

  “He looks the other way, we bring him business. It’s a business transaction,” Temper replies, his cheerful tone making me want to scream.

  “You’re an asshole!” I call out.

  I don’t know who I’m speaking to, because they are all assholes, each and every one of them.

  “You want me to sit in the car with you?” Temper continues. “You said you were pissed that I left you in there with strangers. I don’t usually let anyone ride my bike, but I guess for you I can make an exception.”

  He’s clearly not right in the head.

  I tell him as much. “There’s something seriously wrong with you. Ride your bike—it’s basically been your girlfriend for all of your life, so I wouldn’t want to make her jealous.”

  The men don’t laugh, but I can tell that they want to, especially Crow, whose expressions are very open. I don’t miss his lip twitching or the fact that he looks away to try to compose himself.

  Temper makes a noise in the back of his throat. I can tell I’m frustrating him, but what does he expect. Still, he’s gentle with me as he helps me back into my prison, and sits in the back with me, letting Chains ride his pride and joy.

  “You can message your sister,” he says after several minutes of tense silence. “Just let her know that you’re fine, you’ve gone on a trip for a few days and will be home soon.”

  My eyes widen. “And wouldn’t that just be so convenient for you. I’m not going to lie to my sister, no way in hell.”

  The bastard slides my phone out from his jeans pocket. “Well, good thing I already sent her that exact message then.”

  I see red.

  I’m not a violent per
son, but my hands lash out at him, hitting him on his chest, and trying to push him away from me, trying to hurt him, just anything to make him feel even a fraction of what I’m feeling right now. How dare he do this to me? How dare he message my sister, making her think everything is okay and that I’m being irresponsible by taking a last-second break with a biker I went on one date with? I don’t know if she’s going to buy the story or not, but that’s not the point. He’s a controlling, manipulative asshole and he doesn’t care who he has to step on to protect his beloved club of criminals.

  He holds my wrists, and I know he’s regretting not retying me right now. I know it’s useless and I’m just wasting my energy. I almost want to apologize for my outburst, but I’m not going to.

  He doesn’t deserve to hear an apology from me.

  “I hate you,” I whisper to him, then glance out the window.

  Maybe he’s telling the truth. Maybe it will all be fine and he will let me go back home once all of this shit is sorted. When he knows that the murder is covered up, or the men who tried to kill them are no longer a threat. I don’t really know what options I have.

  I could continue to try to escape. Stay on my toes and use every chance I get to get away.

  Or I could just play a waiting game, but that would mean trusting him, and he hasn’t quite shown me that he deserves my trust.

  How am I supposed to trust his word now?

  I don’t even want to give him the satisfaction of giving in and making this easy on him. He probably thought I’d give him no trouble. Poor innocent little Abbie, who has never even left her home state before. I can only imagine the picture of myself that I’ve painted. And I might not be cultured or worldly, but I’m not weak. And I’m not someone who can be easily manipulated.

  Apparently I am someone who can be kidnapped and not be able to escape, though.

  Crow decides that turning up the music a little is going to save the atmosphere, Ed Sheeran filling the car. Temper runs his hand over his bald head and stays silent, but I can see his mind working through his sharp eyes.

  Always thinking, planning, and strategizing.

  It must be exhausting. Good. I hope he falls asleep. Maybe I can jump out of the car. Then I look outside, realizing Crow is driving pretty fast and I’d probably kill myself or get run over if I attempted that.

  “Do you have an idea when am I going to be able to go home?” I ask Temper, exhaling deeply, all the anger leaving my body.

  “I don’t know,” he replies, turning to me. “A week, maybe two. I can’t say. But I can promise you that I will take you back home, safe and sound, after all of this blows over.”

  I glance out at the highway, leading me somewhere new. I could look at this as an adventure, as an escape. I still feel guilty leaving Ivy to look after Mom and Franks, but it’s not like I chose this.

  “What did Ivy reply to the message?” I ask, pursing my lips.

  He pulls out my phone and reads the message out loud to me.

  Ivy: Are you fucking crazy? Are you sure you’re okay? Where are you going exactly? What do I tell Mom?

  Ivy: ABBIE?!?!?

  He hands me back my phone. “I’m trusting you right now and giving this back. But I think we both know it’s in both of our best interests if you wait until this is all over before you head back home.”

  Squeezing my phone in my hands, I consider his words. I don’t want to bring any trouble around Mom or Ivy, but would whoever they are really come after me? They did see me standing there, and they know what I witnessed, but I’m pretty sure I’m more of a liability for the Knights than the men who tried to kill them.

  But do I really want to take the chance? While I don’t think those men care anything about me, I can’t risk it. I live in a small town and Franks is one of the main places, so if they went there, they could figure out it was me. There are pictures of me throughout the bar—it’s part of the family décor my mother likes to use.

  I make a decision in that moment. “Okay,” I say to him, nodding.

  I type back to Ivy, answering all her questions, and making up excuses for why I’m not coming home.

  I should have been more careful about what I wished for.

  I wanted a change in my life, and I guess for now, I got it.

  Chapter Seven

  We continue driving through the night and as the sun starts to rise. I’m not sure where they live in California, but it’s been at least four hours of driving.

  California is everything I imagined it would be, just like I’ve seen on TV. I can’t help but take everything in and enjoy the change in scenery, not that I’d ever admit that, though. It’s definitely greener than Nevada, and much more densely populated.

  When we pull up to our destination, which I am assuming is the clubhouse, there’s a woman getting out of her car. She’s beautiful, with long, thick, dark hair. “Who is that?” I ask Temper.

  “Izzy,” he replies, his shoulder touching mine. “Renny’s old lady.”

  Renny has an old lady? “Oh,” I whisper, brow furrowing. I move away from Temper so we’re no longer touching. “Are you guys going to tell her what happened?”

  “No,” Temper says quickly, and when I turn back to him, his eyes are narrowed on me. “And neither are you. It’s up to Renny what he does or does not tell her—that’s not our business.”

  “How is that not our business? We were all there, I was there, and now I’m here because of it. How are you going to explain me being here exactly?” I ask, shaking my head. “I thought that the MC were all honest and loyal with each other.”

  “We are,” he replies, scowling at my judgment. “But the women aren’t members, are they?”

  My eyes narrow. “So what? The women aren’t on the same level as the men? No gender equality through those clubhouse doors? So you lie to your women? I’m so glad I’m seeing all this before anything else happened between us.”

  “I’m going to take this moment to leave,” Crow declares from the front, making a quick escape. I actually forgot Crow was even here.

  “What Renny tells Izzy is up to Renny. That’s his business, just like what I tell you is my business,” he says, jaw tight. “Come on, you must be hungry. Let’s get you fed and showered.”

  “The only thing I want from you is to leave me alone.”

  I open the door and step out, crossing my arms over my chest. Izzy notices me straight away and tilts her head to the side as if confused. “Who is that?” I hear her ask Renny.

  “Temper’s woman,” he explains, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

  “Temper doesn’t have a woman,” she says, wrinkling her nose. She then locks eyes with me and waves, closing the space between us. “Hello, I’m Izzy,” she says with a smile, offering me her hand.

  “Abbie,” I say, giving her a forced smile in return. “And I’m not Temper’s woman.”

  I hear the man in question sigh from behind me.

  “I see,” she replies, looking over my head. “Nice to have you all home. I’m looking forward to hearing this story.”

  “Can you take her in?” Temper asks her, clearing his throat. “And give her whatever she needs.”

  “Of course,” Izzy says, brow furrowing. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

  I follow her but can’t help but turn around to look at Temper, seeing him talk closely with Renny, probably preparing their smorgasbord of lies. I flip him the bird when our eyes catch, his unimpressed expression worth it.

  “Would you like something to eat?” Izzy asks, opening the door and letting me in. “I’ll give you a quick tour as we walk through.”

  The clubhouse isn’t what I had imagined a bunch of bikers to live in. It’s extremely neat, with no clutter for one, and from the inside looks like a comfortable home anyone could easily live in.

  “I’d love something to
eat,” I admit to her as we step into the kitchen. I’d never tell Temper, but I’m starving. “So do you live here?”

  “I actually live down the road,” she explains, opening the fridge and scanning the contents. “But I spend a lot of my time here with Renny. There’s last night’s pizza. Or I can order you something in if you like?”

  “Pizza sounds great,” I tell her, my tummy rumbling. She heats us both some in the microwave, and we sit down at the table.

  “So, you’re here with Temper but you’re not his woman?” she asks, eyes going wide. “You don’t have to answer,” she continues, noticing the scowl on my face. “I’m just wondering what the hell is going on here because I’ve never seen Temper give any woman the time of day before. And you don’t seem like you want to be here right now, but you’re not running, so what’s the deal?”

  I have no idea how to answer her questions without giving the whole situation away, but I don’t want to lie to her. She seems nice, and I don’t think she’s going to let this go until she gets to the bottom of it.

  “I went on one date with him,” I admit. “Which was last night. But no, we aren’t together or anything like that.”

  She arches her brow, silently begging me to continue.

  “Some shit went down last night,” I end up saying, and lick my suddenly dry lips. “And I happened to be there, and then Temper wasn’t sure if I’d be safe staying there or not, so he made me come here until it all blows over. So no, I don’t want to be here, but I don’t want to risk my family getting hurt if I head back home either.”

  There. The truth, but I left out the part about her man killing someone, because apparently that’s not my business to tell her that.

  “He made you come here?” she asks, eyes narrowing as she leans forward. “Like as in against your will?” She takes the pizza out of the microwave and hands me a plate with a slice.

  I shrug and pick up my piece of pizza. “I definitely didn’t choose to be tied up and thrown into a car with random men.”

  Izzy’s eyes widen and her mouth slips open. “Are you fucking kidding me? Renny!” she yells out, standing up and storming out of the kitchen.