Sex, Vows & Babies: Surviving Harley (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by K. Webster

  My mind whirs at what Bentley told me. Since he used to be big in foreign market day trading, he’s always been familiar with global news. He’d picked up some chatter on the internet. Domestic terrorists were planning something big. And with Taylor and I being in a city that’s already survived one of the worst terrorist attacks the world has seen, I’m not going to sit around and wait to see what they have in store for us next. I’m getting my woman and getting her the fuck to safety. While Canada is our safest bet, I don’t think we’ll head that way just yet. If I trust my instinct, which I do, crossing over the border might be difficult if shit really is hitting the fan. I love Canada. It’s where my home and family are. But for now, I want to get her someplace safe and I know just the place we can lay low until all of this dies down. Montana, where our family owns some land near the Canadian border, should be the perfect place to escape to with my wife. If anything, it’ll make for a great honeymoon. Just the two of us. All alone.

  As soon as the building she works at comes into view, I gas it. Traffic still isn’t too bad because it’s early enough. If I can get in and get her out, we may be able to slip out of the city before the eight o’clock traffic. Most traffic will be coming into the city, as well, so we also have that in our favor. But, if what Bentley is saying is true, we could be dealing with a nightmare getting out. We’ll need to beat the crowd and get on the road to Montana.

  My father used to take us hunting there all the time. I remember being a young kid and standing in the middle of the forest with one leg in Canada and one leg in America. I’d thought it was badass, being in two countries at once. The woods are dense out that way and there is no border patrol for miles and miles which will be a plus. I don’t know if this attack will happen or not. I certainly don’t know what sort of ramifications it will have either. But what I do know is, that I plan on being somewhere where I will have options. And the Montana house gives me the option to flee to Canada easily and without resistance if need be.

  “You can’t park here!” a young kid hollers when I hop out of the truck right in front of the building.

  I storm over to him and grab him by the front of the shirt. “I just did. I’ll be out in ten minutes.” I shove a fist full of hundreds into his palm. “Ten minutes.”

  His eyes widen at the money and he nods. “Ten minutes and then I’m calling a tow truck.”

  With a quick nod of understanding, I trot into the lobby. People are starting to arrive for their various jobs, but it isn’t too busy yet. I find a framed sign on the wall near the elevators that tells which offices are located on each floor. Once I locate her studio, I slip into the elevator and start up. Of course she’d be on the eighty-seventh floor.

  Several long minutes later, I all but run off the elevator on a hunt for her. I ignore the stares and stifled giggles of the people she works with. Those fuckers better not have been rude to Taylor. I’ll knock each one of them upside the head.

  It doesn’t take me long to find where they’re recording. I’m about to shove past a couple of people when an older woman stops me. Her glare is menacing.

  “And where do you think you’re going?” she snaps.

  I look past her through the parted curtains. Taylor sits bravely with her back straight and her head held high wearing the same hoodie from earlier. Two men in suits sit across from her wearing scowls. She’s got her painted bitch face on, but I can tell by the way she bobs her throat she’s seconds from crying.

  “I’m going to get my wife,” I snarl at the lady.

  Her eyes widen, but then she smiles. “I’m Jeanie. Go get her, big boy.”

  I’m shocked that she lets me onto the stage without a fight. The audience lets out a gasp when I storm up behind her. I take pause as she speaks, not having realized I’m behind her.

  “I will not apologize for being human. What happened between my husband and I was a completely natural thing. The producers created this show knowing it could go one of two ways. We could hate each other and we’d fight. Awesome ratings. Or we could fall for each other and we’d love.” She pauses to look down at her wedding ring. Mom’s old wedding ring. I’m not sure why I gave it to her, but it felt right. Barb had wanted something flashy. But it felt fake. Like our wannabe marriage. If I was going to do this, I wanted something real. Taylor continues on, her voice slightly cracking. “I never expected to feel so much contempt and hate and ridicule for something you all knew could happen. It took a little over two months to happen, but it did. I let down my guard and Harley let down his. We’re just two messed up people with sad pasts. Once we ignored what everyone else around us wanted, we were able to give in to what we wanted. Last night, we wanted each other. Truth be told, I still want him.”

  I can’t help but grin at her. The audience makes a collective “Awwww.”

  “He still wants you too,” I tell her.

  She jerks her head around and relief flickers in her watery green eyes. “You came.”

  I stalk over to her and tug her from the chair into my arms. We embrace while ignoring the two suits blabbering on about a lawsuit and her being fired. All it takes is one hateful glare from me to have their words dying in their throats.

  Slipping my fingers into her fancy shoulder-length hair, I pull her hair a little so she’ll look up at me. Her plump lips have been painted a glossy pink. I want to suck it all off and return them to their natural color.

  “I missed you, beautiful,” I tell her with a grumble. “You ready to get the hell out of here?”

  She nods and lifts on her toes. If that isn’t an invitation for a kiss, I don’t know what is. I lean forward and capture her sexy lips with mine. Our kiss is needy and raw, much like our budding relationship. I kiss her for a long moment ignoring the chaos around us.

  “Someone call security,” one of the suits snaps. His words are ignored the moment a loud screech resounds across the room. Taylor and I snap our heads up just in time to see the screen behind the stage light up with a person wearing a mask.

  “Good morning, American citizens,” the masked man says, his voice clearly being distorted. “I’m sorry to interrupt your morning routine, but it’s long past time we’ve talked.”

  Everyone just gapes in shock. I pull Taylor against me in a protective embrace as if the projected image has the ability to come steal her from me.

  The man continues. “We are American Anarchists Anonymous. Otherwise known as AAA.” He pauses. “Put down your phones. Your iPads. Your laptops. Listen very carefully.”

  “We need to go,” I hiss at Taylor. “Now.”

  “Technology has made you all stupid. Vindictive. Fat. Opinionated. Lazy. America’s forefathers would be ashamed of you all. Our country is a mockery. A dumb joke.” The masked man shakes his head in disgust. “And soon, this joke will end. Do you think you could live without the glow of your screen lighting up your brain-dead face?” He pauses again for effect. “We’ll see.”

  Taylor is still frozen in spot gaping at the man. We don’t have time for this shit. She lets out a squeal when I squat and then toss her over my shoulder.

  “Harley!” she yelps. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting us the hell out of here before it’s too late,” I bark back and give her sexy ass a slap. I manage to get off the stage before she wriggles her way to her feet.

  “I can walk,” she huffs. “Where to?”

  “I’m parked outside,” I tell her, grabbing her hand.

  We start toward the elevator when some fancy-ass fucker in a suit comes to stand in front of us. I remember the asshole from our wedding. His face is beet-red with anger. I don’t like the way he’s fucking looking at my woman. Like he’s going to hit her or some shit. Over my goddamned body. I don’t wait for him to say anything or move the hell out of our way. I just rear back my fist and send it across his jaw. He makes a sound like a little bitch before hitting the floor like a sack of potatoes.

  Taylor squeaks from beside me, but squeezes my hand, gu
iding me to the elevator. The fact that she didn’t yell at me for punching out one of her colleagues has me calming. They really must have been assholes to her this morning.

  As soon as we’re in the elevator heading to the ground floor, she climbs me like a tree. My palms grip her firm ass in her tight jeans and hold her to me, enjoying how she kisses me as though she’s starved.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs between kisses. “You came for me like you promised. You hit Declan. God, he was such an ass.”

  I stalk over to one side of the elevator with her in my arms and rest her against the wall. My dick is at full attention and begging to play. Grinding my cock against the soft parts of her, I grin. “You’re my wife. Nobody fucks with my wife.”

  Her cheeks turn pink and she nearly knocks my teeth out trying to kiss me. Our kiss is hot and needy and would progress if it weren’t for the elevator doors opening. I’m reminded that we are on a mission. It’s been longer than ten minutes and some asshole tow truck is parking in front of me like he’s actually going to take my truck away. I flip him off while opening the passenger side door. Since Tay is still in my arms, I’m easily able to toss her into the big truck. Then, I’m in on my side and peeling out into the street before the tow truck guy even has a chance to realize what happened. Traffic is starting to pick up, but it’s still not too bad.

  “Turn on the radio, babe,” I instruct so I can focus on weaving in and out of traffic.

  She scoots to the middle of the bench seat beside me and buckles in. I like having her pressed up against me. I sling my arm over her shoulder and pull her to me just as the radio starts to blare.

  “…and we warned you. Over and over again. Technology would be your demise. In a world that revolves around technology, you become a world that cannot survive without it. This, my fellow American fuckwits, is what we call, survival of the fittest. In exactly twenty-eight minutes, the world as you know it will no longer exist. You will be forced to survive in a very quiet world. You better be ready. Goodnight, America. I hope you’re not afraid of the dark.”

  After that chilling statement, static blares on the radio. Taylor reaches forward and turns it back off. Her worried gaze meets mine.

  “Harley, what do you think it means? I’m scared.” Her eyebrows are pinched together in concern.

  “It means we have twenty-eight minutes to get the hell out of here before all hell breaks loose,” I growl.

  She remains quiet as I zip in and out of traffic. Being a city girl, she points out several quicker routes. We haul ass through the Lincoln Tunnel with minutes to spare. As soon as we emerge and hit the open highway, we hear it.

  A boom.

  It takes a moment for the earth to catch up to the sound. But seconds later, the truck shakes.

  “What happened?” I demand as I pick up speed.

  She twists in her seat. “An explosion. I see smoke coming from the city. Oh, God. What’s happening?”

  “Fuck if I know.”

  She tries the radio—it’s nothing but static on every station. When she pulls out her phone from her hoodie, it’s on but has no signal. Streetlamps that line the highway flicker and then go out. The sun is coming up, but it’s apparent the electricity has gone out. Those fuckers weren’t lying.

  “Pull out the atlas in the glove box,” I order. “Map me a route to northwest Montana that avoids major cities.”

  She scrambles to pull it from the box. Starting in New York, she starts studying our path. Once she tells me where to head next, she sets the map into the seat beside her and curls up against me. “I’m so scared.”

  I swallow. I’m scared, too, but I’ll be damned if I tell her that. She needs me to be strong for her. That much is evident. After last night, I know my tough girl isn’t as tough as she lets on.

  “I’m going to keep you safe,” I vow. “Are you okay? Those fuckers didn’t upset you too badly?”

  She sniffles and picks at her nails as we drive. “I thought I loved him…”

  I tense and clench my teeth together. “Dec?”

  “Yeah, but after what you and I had last night… how you treated me afterwards, like I wasn’t just a piece of ass to be forgotten until the next time you had the urge to fuck, I realized he’d been using me all along.”

  I squeeze her shoulder. “How anyone could forget you after having you is beyond me. Hell, it’s all I can think about since it happened.”

  She laughs and regards me with a stunning smile that lights up this whole darkened city. “We wasted too much time,” she says finally, her smile faltering. “Why did we fight so much?”

  “It was an act. For ratings. We’d both agreed to something neither of us were really prepared to deal with. I was still angry over Barb. You were still longing after that douchebag. It wasn’t until we sort of forgot about all that mess that we really looked at each other for the first time.” I grin at her and wink. “And, babe, I really liked what I saw.”

  Her giggles warm me. “You saw my tits and…”

  I cut her off. “No. I saw you.”

  We’re silent for a few minutes. Finally, she speaks again.

  “I saw you, too. You’re hot,” she says with a laugh. “I always saw that. But then you showed me you could be kind underneath that gruff exterior. That you cared about me, despite my being a bitch twenty-four-seven.”

  “And I saw how fragile you were underneath that hard-ass routine. You were broken and used. You needed someone to put you back together again,” I say softly. “How’s your hand, speaking of broken?”

  She lifts her hand for me to see. There’s a red line beneath where the glue holds her skin together. It doesn’t look angry or infected. I’ll keep an eye on it, but she’ll be fine.

  “It’s sore, but it’s the least of my worries. Shouldn’t we be getting supplies or something? I don’t know what we’re going to do,” she huffs, dropping her hand into her lap.

  I smirk, knowing the back of the covered truck bed is filled to the brim with supplies I’d quickly gathered before getting Taylor. Bentley had been right. He’d urged me to “do your survival thing, bro,” and promised he’d be on standby with his transistor radio. Our plan was for me to get Tay and I to the old house on our land in Montana. Then Bentley would apprise me of what sort of situation we’re looking at. At that point, if we had too, we’d cross over and head up north to where he and the girls are.

  “I’ve got this. There’s enough fuel in the back to get this big truck to where we’re going. We have clothes, a tent, food, and weapons. I’m going to take care of you,” I promise.

  She stiffens. “Weapons? Are we going to have to hunt for food?”

  Sweet, naïve Taylor.

  “And protect our food.”

  Horrified eyes meet mine. “From whom?”

  I swallow and cast my gaze out onto the highway in front of us. “From those who can’t gather their own food. From those who take advantage of a world in chaos and go from being normal citizens to thieves, rapists, and murderers overnight.”

  She starts to cry and I wince. I don’t mean to scare her, but being naïve to what we’re facing won’t help us. I need her to have her guard up. After a mini meltdown, she dries her tears.

  “I guess one good thing has come of all this…” she trails off.

  “People will stop getting off on us fucking on camera?” I quip.

  She laughs, but then she turns her bloodshot eyes up to regard me with a serious look. “We get to have our honeymoon.”

  Ignoring the fairly traffic-free road for a brief moment, I steal a kiss from my wife.

  “Harley?” she questions, her fingers cupping my face and beard.

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “If this all blows over…” Her eyes become fierce. “I don’t want to go back. I want to stay with you. I’m tired of being the person they all want me to be. I just want to be Taylor.”

  I wink at her. “You’re not ever leaving my side and I don’t want you any other way.
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  We’re going to get through this because her happiness is the prize that waits on the other side of this journey. And that’s a prize I can’t wait to fucking own.

  * * *

  I calculate our trip by using the keys on the side of the map. Thirty-six hours. I haven’t actually driven outside of the city in what seems like decades. Sure, I’ve taken multiple flights to LA and Chicago and other places for work. I’ve only been in a vehicle driving outside of my home one other time that I can remember. I can recall twenty years ago when I was just ten, riding with my parents to South Carolina. We’d taken a vacation to the beach. I’d stared out the window for hours watching the world slowly pass by.

  Back then, the world was pretty. Mom and Dad stopped at quirky restaurants and souvenir shops along the way. This trip is much more different. Harley and I’ve been on the road for several hours. My stomach keeps growling, but every fast food joint we pass is closed. No electricity. I don’t have the heart to ask him if we have food in the back just yet. His jaw keeps clenching and I can see lines of worry marring his handsome face.

  The quiet drive has given me time to reflect on what the last twelve hours have been like. I’d been fucked by someone who seemed to adore both me and my body. Found an unlikely friend in my husband. Faced the ridicule of an entire nation. And then those same people were silenced in a blink of an eye.

  “Do you think it was just New York? What happens when we cross over into Ohio?” I question, breaking up the silence.

  “More of the same, I imagine. That AAA asshole seemed as though he was referring to the entire country. So far, we’re nearly finished driving through Pennsylvania and we’ve yet to see one place of business with electricity.”

  I chew on my bottom lip. “What happens when we run out of gas?”

  He looks down at the fuel gauge. “We’re going to pull over someplace secluded and I’ll fill up. I have some gas containers in the back.”