by Brook Wilder
No matter what she did, though, he was going to get his answers.
Della’s heart was pounding. She was a little worried that she was going to pass out. This was just too much. Just when she thought this biker was going to kiss her, he had pulled the rug out from under her. What worried her more was that she might have let him kiss her.
From this close range, her biker admirer was nothing like she expected. He was taller than Simon, with muscles that suggested it would have been all too easy for him to follow through on his threat to break Simon’s bones. Della couldn’t help looking him over, noting the bulges of his arms and the flat plane of his stomach. She found herself imagining the tight ab muscles she would find under his shirt if she dared to explore his body.
He certainly seemed to want her to, and she cursed herself for the reaction her body had to him. When she looked up into those deep, brown eyes, she saw so much pain and hurt. She could tell he’d been through a great deal. She could also tell how dangerous he was. This was a man who was prepared to do anything to protect himself and his own.
Worse still, it seemed he knew that she had witnessed the murder. After all that had happened, her worst nightmares were coming to life. First Simon, and now this. She wished she could just sink right through the floor.
“I…” her voice trailed off as she cleared her throat.
How would she get out of this?
Handsome as he was, she knew she couldn’t trust this biker not to hurt her. She was as terrified of him as she was attracted to him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said finally, her voice weak.
He smirked, then took a step back, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
“Why don’t we sit down?” he offered, pulling out a chair at the table she had vacated earlier.
She eyed him warily, not sure what his angle was. He sighed, shaking his head slightly.
“Despite what you might think, I really am just here for information. I want to know the truth about what happened that night, and I think you might be able to tell me.” He sat down at the table and looked at her. “I promise, I won’t hurt you.”
Della didn’t want to believe him, but there was a slight vulnerability in his tone that made her walk over to the table and sit across from him. It was obvious he was still keeping plenty from her, though she decided he was telling the truth about wanting information and not hurting her. There was more to it than that, but if he felt like he could tell half-truths, then so could she.
Della decided to tell him a vague account of what she’d seen. If she didn’t provide too many details, she wouldn’t implicate herself in motorcycle club business. She would give him just enough information to assure him that she was not going to be useful after all.
“Alright,” she said. “Here’s what I know.”
The biker leaned forward in his seat just a little bit, and she knew she had his attention. Before she could begin her half-truth story, however, they were interrupted.
The doors swung open, and the tromp of oncoming footsteps drew their attention away from each other. Della realized her nightmare was only just beginning.
Simon was approaching them with two campus police officers in tow. The biker dragged his gaze over to them and scowled. Della could sense that this exchange wasn’t going to go well.
“That’s him,” Simon said, pointing. “That’s the one who attacked and threatened me.”
One of the officers beckoned to the biker. “Sir, could you please step away from the table for a moment.”
Della saw the biker considering the three men, deciding what he was going to do with them. Slowly, like a snake uncoiling itself, he stood up. It was instantly clear that he was taller and stronger than all three men.
Della stood up, too, but hung back uncertainly.
“What am I being accused of?” the biker asked, his voice too calm for comfort.
“You attacked me earlier,” Simon repeated. “He tried to mug me, but I didn’t have my wallet on me. So he roughed me up and left.”
The biker barked out a laugh. “I don’t see any marks on you. Did I beat you with a pillow?”
Simon scowled. “You threatened to break my bones!” He turned to the cops. “He threatened to break my bones!”
The cops looked tired. Simon was livid, and the biker looked like he was gearing up for a fight.
“Threatening is different than attacking,” the biker said quietly. “Would you like me to show you the difference?”
“I dare you to!” Simon returned. “It’d make everything so much easier.”
Della knew this was not going well. The cops were even starting to take Simon’s side. She could see them tensing up, reaching for their belts. Something bad was going to happen if she didn’t stop it. In a split-second decision, she stepped forward and laid a hand on the biker’s forearm. She could feel his tightened muscles there and was distracted for a brief moment. Then she set her attention on the cops.
“Do I get a say in this?” she asked. “I was present for the whole incident.”
“You were?” one of the officers asked. “Yeah, please tell us what happened. In your own words.”
Della didn’t understand the last part right away, until the officer glanced at the biker. She realized he was considering the possibility that the biker had threatened her, too, or something like that.
She shook her head, lowering her hand from the biker’s arm. With everyone’s attention on her, she kept her eyes focused on the cops’ shoes.
“I came here to do some shopping before going home,” she began. “I stopped for a bite to eat, and Simon uh… he joined me unexpectedly.” Her cheeks were burning red-hot right now. This was so embarrassing. “Simon wanted to know if I’d go out with him. I said no, and he got angry. He grabbed my wrist and pushed me against the wall. If anyone’s guilty of assault here tonight, it’s Simon himself.”
She raised her gaze to the police officers confidently. One of them looked at the biker.
“How did you fit into all this exactly?”
“He intervened,” Della said quickly. “He was in the area and he noticed I was in trouble, so… he saved me. I’m grateful to him.”
“You can’t believe that,” Simon said.
“I don’t know,” one of the officers said. “Guy’s right about the marks. You look okay to me, bud.”
The other cop nodded at the biker’s kutte. “Hell’s Reavers aren’t exactly known for muggings. Petty crime is beneath you, am I right?”
The biker smirked. “Yeah, we usually have better things to do on Friday nights.”
“Right then,” the cop said. “That just leaves us with one issue.” He turned to Della. “Do you want to press charges?”
Della crossed her arms around herself, refusing to meet Simon’s gaze.
“No,” she said. “He didn’t hurt me. He was just confused and upset. But… I don’t really want to have him around right now either.”
“Sounds fair to me,” the cop replied. To Simon he said, “Why don’t we go take a walk? We can escort you off campus. Maybe the fresh air will clear your head.”
“This is outrageous!” Simon shouted, his face red with anger. He pointed an accusing finger at the biker. “He’s a criminal! You should be arresting him.”
“We’ll talk about this outside.”
The cops converged on either side of Simon and escorted him firmly out the door. Della relaxed slightly, seeing him go. She hoped this incident would teach Simon a lesson, and that she wouldn’t get any more trouble from him.
Somehow she doubted he was going to leave her alone.
“Thanks for that,” the biker said.
“Hm?”
Della had almost forgotten he was there.
“You had my back,” he said.
She shrugged. “It was the right thing to do. Simon’s nuts.”
He laughed. “That’s putting it lightly.” Sticking out his hand, he added
, “I’m Prescott Graves.”
Della considered his hand for a moment, then reached out to shake.
“Della Hicks,” she replied.
His hand closed around hers, his grip warm and surprisingly gentle. Della didn’t know why, but the brief contact affected her, made her feel warm inside. She found herself blushing, and quickly dropped her hand.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” Prescott said, gesturing back toward the table. “Before we were interrupted, you were going to tell me something.”
Della nodded, feeling exhausted. They returned to the table and sat down. She tried to figure out what she was going to say. It helped that she didn’t find Prescott quite so intimidating right now. Taking a deep breath, she began her story.
Prescott was not in the best mood. He didn’t like tangling with the police at the best of times, but being harangued by a pair of rent-a-cops was a new low. If Della hadn’t stepped in when she did, he wasn’t sure what would have happened. It wouldn’t have been good, that much was certain.
But she had stepped in. Even though she didn’t trust him, even though she was scared of him, she had risen to his defense. He didn’t blame her for wanting Simon gone. Prescott wasn’t sure why, but part of the reason he was so ready to give in to violence earlier was out of a strange need to protect this woman. He hated thinking about how Simon had scared her. She was more scared of Simon than she was of Prescott, and that said something.
He found himself drawn to the faint blush in her cheeks when she touched him, could still remember the feel of her hand on his arm earlier. She was so delicate compared to him.
“It was dark,” Della said, bringing him back to the present. “My roommate, Kate, and I were walking home from a late night study group. We heard a couple motorcycles, saw one of them crash.”
She shrugged lamely, her voice trailing off.
“What kind of motorcycles were they?” he pressed. “Did you see either of the riders? Did you see their kuttes?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. Like I said, it was dark. I didn’t see much of anything at all. Just some shadows.”
“Did the shadows have a distinctive shape?” Prescott asked, getting desperate. “Any small detail would help.”
“I’m sorry, but no,” she said. “It all happened so fast. We ran home and didn’t look back.”
Her phone made a noise, and she grabbed it.
“It’s not Simon, is it?” Prescott asked.
He didn’t know why he did it, only that he was still worried for Della. Hard as she was making this for him, he couldn’t stand the idea of Simon coming back for her.
“No, it’s Kate. She wants to know where I am.” She typed out a quick message and sent it. “Is there anything else you need? If not, it’s getting late. I should get home.”
As if on cue, Kate herself stormed into the building.
“Don’t you check your phone?” she demanded. “I was looking for you. I caught a glimpse of Simon and he did not look happy.”
Kate came up short when she saw who was sitting across from Della. Her eyes went wide and her face paled.
“I'm sorry,” Della said. “I’ll explain about Simon later. This is Prescott, we were just –”
Without a word, Kate closed the distance between them and grabbed Della’s arm, pulling her to her feet.
“We’re going home,” she said. “Right now.”
Prescott was on high alert now. The way Kate was reacting was even more extreme than Della. They both clearly knew plenty, way more than Della was letting on. He just needed a chance to prove it. If he called an emergency meeting at the clubhouse, he could take Della there. Once she was in the room with Al, he could watch her, see if she reacted. He was not about to let his one chance to prove Al’s guilt walk out the door.
Kate was still yanking Della’s arm, trying to drag her away. Della was resisting, at least, which meant that a part of her didn’t want to leave him behind. Maybe she was more willing to help than she let on.
“You need to come with me,” Prescott said to Della, ignoring Kate entirely.
Della’s reaction was far from comforting. She moved closer to Kate, her face pale and her expression nervous.
Prescott held his hands out to show he meant no harm.
“I told you before that I won’t hurt you, and I meant it. If you come with me, I won’t let anything happen to you. No one will hurt you. But I do need you to come with me. It’s important.”
He looked into her eyes so she could see his sincerity. An array of expressions played across her face, but he thought she might be considering it. He was so close to nailing Al that he could almost taste it.
Della felt Kate pull again on her arm. She had no idea what was going on, or how her life had taken such a turn for the strange.
And dangerous.
How could this have happened? She was nobody.
Kate was still pulling on her arm, and Della gave in. A part of her believed Prescott when he said he wouldn’t let her be hurt, but she also knew she’d be crazy to go with him now.
“I’m sorry, but it’s late, and I, uh… we have to go,” she mumbled.
When Kate pulled her out the door, she half expected Prescott to follow. He didn’t.
They made their way home quickly and quietly. Kate didn’t let go of Della’s arm until they were safely inside their apartment with the door locked behind them. As soon as the deadbolt slid into place, Kate was on Della.
“Who was that?” she demanded.
“I tried to tell you. His name is Prescott. He found me earlier, wanted to ask me about the accident.”
“How did he know you were there for the accident?” Kate asked, her voice shrill with fear and nerves.
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me how he figured it out. He told me all he wanted was information, so I gave him a vague answer.”
“I can’t believe this,” Kate said, running her hand through her hair. “I can’t believe this. You were right all along. We’re in danger. They know about us. Oh my God, does he know where we live?”
“I don’t know,” Della said. “Maybe. But I don’t think Prescott is dangerous.”
“Oh, please,” Kate scoffed. “You were the one who was terrified of every motorcycle you saw.”
“I know, but… Prescott didn’t strike me as dangerous. I felt like he was genuinely concerned for my safety, like he really just wanted information. And the campus police didn’t seem bothered by him.”
“Della,” Kate said, reaching up to massage her forehead. “You are so naïve. The cops were probably too scared of him to say anything. You don’t know these guys, what they do… This Prescott guy is a criminal. Plain and simple. Trust me when I say he’s far from innocent.”
Della understood Kate’s side of things. A part of her even agreed with her roommate. After all, she’d felt the same things about Prescott when she’d first seen him. Still, it was hard to convince herself not to trust him. There was something in the way he’d looked and acted, the gentleness of his touch when he’d shaken her hand. The situation just didn’t feel as black and white as Kate was making it out to be.
“Just stay away from the biker,” Kate said, sounding tired. “You’ve got other problems right now anyway.”
Della pulled her thoughts away from Prescott to focus on Kate’s words.
“What do you mean?” she asked, frowning.
“Simon,” Kate said, draping herself over the couch dramatically. “I don’t know what you said to him, but he’s on a rampage.”
“You were the one who told me to be straight with him!” Della said, exasperated.
“I know, because you couldn’t spend the rest of your graduate career with him drooling on your shoulder. But he’s way more unhinged than I thought. I’m starting to worry about what he might do.”
“Maybe I should go with Prescott after all,” Della said, trying to keep her tone light. “He protected me from Simon once already, and he pr
omised to keep me safe.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Kate said, pointing an accusing finger at Della.
“Don’t worry. I was joking.”
Even as she said the words, Della wondered if she wasn’t perhaps a little bit serious about the idea. Prescott was obviously stronger than Simon, and he was much more accustomed to fighting. With him at her side, she wouldn’t have to worry about the creepy stalker from class.
