Exposed: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance (Fury Riders MC)

by Sophia Gray

  It was massive and black with what looked like flames but only when they caught the light just right. Ghost flames. I wouldn’t have given the truck a second look if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was in my lane.

  “Oh shit!” I cried, jerking the wheel to the side in an effort to avoid the truck. But I was unsuccessful because the damn truck followed me. It swerved, too, and I gave a cry of fear and surprise. If one of us didn’t do something, we were going to collide. Jerking my wheel again, I finally managed to swerve myself off into the ditch along the side of the road. The car rolled, and I screamed. I ended up hanging upside down, the seatbelt probably saving my life as the car ended up settled on its roof.

  I groaned. What in the hell was all of that?

  Mentally, I checked myself. My head was throbbing, but that was likely from all the blood rushing to it from hanging upside down. At least, I hoped that was all it was. I felt something warm trickle down my face and had a feeling it wasn’t tears.

  My hands felt okay, if a little shaky. My torso was sore, particularly from where the seatbelt bit into my body, but I was grateful still. The windshield was broken, glass shards all over the car, and I was pretty sure I had some imbedded in me somewhere, though I wasn’t sure yet. It didn’t take a genius to guess that I could have easily ended up outside the car. The seatbelt was digging between my breasts and pinching at my waist and ribs, but it saved me, so I tried not to complain too much.

  Wheezing out a choked breath, I forced myself to focus—first, on the fact that I needed to get down and second, on the fear that was telling me that I’d just been deliberately run off the road.

  Had it been Pax?

  The thought came cold and fast, but I shoved it away. No, Pax would have come from the other direction. And there were at least three people involved in what just happened. It wasn’t him.

  My mind flashed to the way he kissed me, deep and hungry, his hands clutching my body, his arousal pressing against my stomach.

  I swallowed roughly. I really hoped it wasn’t him.

  Hesitantly, I reached for my seatbelt. There was no delicate way to get down, but I was going to have to. “Don’t land on your neck,” I muttered hoarsely, my voice sounding like it was being drug along sandpaper.

  Pressing the release button, the seatbelt snapped away, and I tumbled to the ground or rather, the roof of my car. I landed in a heap, catching my shoulder and my side, which decidedly did not feel good. I let out a cry of pain before I remembered that I’d been run off the road and someone might be standing above the ditch watching me. Waiting. Listening. Checking to see if they’d succeeded in killing me.

  I’d landed on some of the glass from the windshield, the tiny cuts making it hard to get on all fours. That and my shoulder was no incredibly sore. I didn’t want to move, but I needed to get out of the car.

  Instead of trying to get one of the doors opened, I twisted my body around so that my legs were pointed towards the windshield, at least to where the windshield had been not so long ago. I kicked at the remaining glass, clearing a space for me. When I’d gotten it as jagged-free as possible, I carefully crawled out the window and into the mud of the ditch.

  Being out of the car did wonders for my disposition, until I saw three men standing at the side of the road, right above the ditch where I’d just been run off.

  Two of them had to be at least six feet tall and full of muscles. The third was short, but he seemed twice as big as the other two. All of them were dressed in black, and they were all incredibly intimidating. Terrifying.

  Why had they run me off the road?

  I begin to shake. Not just from the adrenaline after the accident or from my shot nerves but from fear. I can feel it in my bones—this is going to be bad. My mind searched for an escape, a way out, but where could I go? I was in bad shape, bloodied and bruised. I didn’t even know how bad the damage was. My car was set on its roof, and there was no way I could turn it over.

  I can run, I thought wildly, but I knew that was a lost cause, too. Because I wasn’t going to make it anywhere in my shape, not when those three men had good, strong builds and were very clearly after me.

  The man in the middle, one of the tall ones, took a step forward like he was about to come down into the ditch after me, but then he stopped. They all turned at the same time, back towards the road I’d just come from. I looked, too.

  Headlights illuminated the three men, and for a second, I got even more frightened. Had they called in backup?

  But then the car pulled to a stop. The door opened…and Pax got out.

  It took him four steps and about two seconds before he decked the first guy so hard that he crumpled to the ground, no longer moving. The other two guys didn’t risk waiting for Pax to get them the same way, and they ran at him. He caught a fist in the shoulder and the gut, but it didn’t seem to slow him down.

  He took care of the short guy quickly, slamming him onto the hard asphalt and kicking him once, hard in the middle, for good measure. The last man fared a little better. He dodged Pax’s punch and tried to get ahold of him from behind, but Pax wasn’t having it. He grabbed the other man’s arm and twisted. I could see the moment it broke, even before the man screamed in pain.

  Releasing the arm, Pax took another swing at the guy. This time it hit him squarely in the jaw. It must have knocked him out because the guy went down and the screaming stopped. Everything was suddenly still, and Pax was officially the last one standing.

  He looked over to me, and I heard him curse. “Dammit!” He slid down into the ditch, coming to a stop just in front of me. My eyes were probably as wide as saucers, and I could feel myself still shaking. I couldn’t look away from him.

  “They…” I started, but I didn’t even know what I was trying to say.

  “Shut up,” he told me sternly.

  I might have been pissed at him if the hand that he reached out to touch me wasn’t so damn soft and gentle against my cheek, like he was scared of hurting me. Which was good, because I was hurting everywhere.

  His hands fluttered over me, examining me like he was a damn doctor, before he finally said, “C’mon. You’re coming back with me.”

  I didn’t argue, though I had enough trouble moving that he got irritated with me. He finally just scooped me up, pressing my body against his chest and holding me tightly in his strong, well-muscled arms. He carried me up the hill, then popped open the passenger side door. He set me in there gently, which was at odds with his pissed-off glare and his pursed lips.

  He slammed the door after me, then went around to the driver’s side. He stared up the car and drove me back in complete silence. If I hadn’t just been in a bad accident—and hadn’t been sure those guys meant me serious harm—I might have filled that silence with anger or snide remarks. But he’d saved me, and I was hurt. All I wanted to do was curl up next to—

  Stop it, I ordered myself because it was not okay to want to curl up with him, no matter if he saved me. I had been down that road before and bombed spectacularly. I wouldn’t do it again.

  When we arrived at the house again, he came around to the door and actually opened it for me. “Can you walk?” he asked, his tone laced with annoyance. “Or should I just treat you like a fucking invalid and carry you again?”

  My own temper flared—a welcome change from the fear—and I shoved at him to get him out of the way. I swung my legs around and got to my own feet. Then, I nearly fell back into the cab when darkness swamped my vision. But his hands reached out quickly to grab my arms, steadying me. I let him stabilize me for a minute before shaking him off.

  “I’m fine,” I croaked, though I felt like I was anything but.

  He shrugged his shoulders like he didn’t give two shits whether or not I was okay, then turned and headed into the house. I hobbled along slowly after him. My legs were working, thank God, but my shoulder and ribs hurt. I hoped they were only bruised, not broken, but it was too early to say.

  I followed hi
m inside. He pointed to a chair. “Fucking sit down and stay, would you?”

  I didn’t have to be a genius to hear how pissed off he was. But I obliged. I told myself it was mostly because I was damn tired and didn’t think I was going to get much farther.

  I heard him grumble about stupid women doing stupid fucking things as he disappeared into the mudroom. When he came back out, he was holding rubbing alcohol, gauze, Band-Aids, and a couple of other things that were clearly for me.

  Jeez, do I really look that bad? I wondered, then instantly decided I didn’t want to know.

  He knelt in front of me, looking me in the eyes. For a moment, I got lost in their dark depths. I felt that familiar flare of desire that comes whenever he was around, despite his general asshole personality. The urge to kiss him swept over me like a moment of madness, so strong that I felt myself leaning towards him before I could even think otherwise. I thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitch in what might have been a smile, but it was gone so quickly that maybe it hadn’t been there at all.

  His eyes darkened further as he demanded, “Just what the fuck did you think you were doing?”

  Oh boy.

  Chapter Twelve

  Pax

  “Just what the fuck did you think you were doing?” I demanded, feeling so goddamned pissed off that I couldn’t see straight. I wanted to throttle this woman. And I wanted to make sure she was okay, which pissed me off about as much as her leaving did.

  Who the fuck did she think she was to get under my skin, anyway?

  “I…” For just a second, she sounded like a scared little girl. With huge eyes and blood trickling down her forehead, she looked so damn vulnerable that I felt bad for her. I felt fucking awful. Then she seemed to pull herself together, sucking in a deep breath. “Screw you. Kato has clearly made a miraculous recovery. Which means you don’t need me anymore, right? Which means you can’t keep me here as a goddamned prisoner!”

  I clenched my jaw so hard that I thought I was going to break a tooth. I was livid. Who the hell did she think she was? I just saved her damn life because she was fucking stupid and tried to leave, which I tried to prevent. This whole fucking thing was her fault!

  “Listen here, baby, you’re done when I say you’re done,” I told her firmly, putting my hands on the arms of the couch, effectively boxing her in. “You don’t get to go running off into the wild blue yonder without fucking telling me what you’re doing.”

  She barked out a quick laugh, surprising me. “Oh? What are you, my employer or my father?”

  Neither, I wanted to tell her. I was the man that wanted to fuck her senseless and the man who had just saved her life. I didn’t think that fell into either employer or father category. “Fuck you, lady,” I told her hotly. “I’m the man that just made sure three men didn’t kill you.”

  The color drained from her face quickly as the memory of what had happened—and what had nearly happened—returned in full force. It hit me, too, and I wasn’t any happier about it than she was.

  I was pissed at her for leaving. And I had to admit to myself that a big part of that was because she didn’t fucking tell me that she was. If she’d said something, maybe we could have avoided this whole damn thing. Instead, she ran off leaving me to wonder where she was and what had happened to her.

  But really, I was pissed because the whole thing had scared me.

  If I’d been just minutes later, things would have gone bad, worse than they already had. Those men had been Chaos Disciples; I knew it. They didn’t wear leathers, which told me they were still trying to be anonymous, but I didn’t need the leathers to identify them. I recognized Mason and Brendan easily. I didn’t know the last one, but it didn’t much matter. Birds of a feather ran people off the road together.

  They had put together who she was, at least that she’d been over here enough to be of some importance to us. Maybe they figured she was someone’s girl. It was doubtful they realized that she was our triage nurse.

  But it didn’t matter who they thought she was. They figured that she was meaningful to us. That made her a target. If I’d been even a little bit later… My whole body tensed with thoughts of what could have happened. Bad thoughts. Disturbing thoughts.

  They could have killed her…or they could have played with her first.

  I pushed those unpleasant thoughts aside and refocused my attention on Jamie. She was shaking like a leaf, and I had a moment of guilt at bringing those fears back to her so soon after the ambush. Clearly, she was terrified.

  “Jamie—”

  I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to say, but I didn’t have to figure it out because she interrupted me. Pulling herself together all over again, she fixed me with a glare. “You can’t just keep me hostage here. I can go where I want. I can do what I want.” Her hands were still shaking, but her voice was steady.

  “Jesus Christ, are you fucking with me right now?” I demanded angrily. “I just saved your damn life and you accuse me of keeping you hostage?”

  A flash of guilt crossed her features, but it disappeared quickly.

  “Well, if it weren’t for you, my life wouldn’t have needed saving!”

  I gritted my teeth, mostly because she was basically right. If she hadn’t found Kato that night and if I hadn’t insisted she stay to take care of him, she never would have been involved in any of this. But she was now.

  “Think whatever you want,” I told her gruffly, because I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “But fact is you were just attacked. You really want to bitch to the guy that saved you?”

  She rolled her eyes, then winced. I felt bad for her for a minute, glancing over her wounds again. She had glass cuts on her body, some torn through the fabric of her clothes, and it looked like she had a bad gash from hitting the steering wheel or maybe the dash. She needed to get cleaned up and given some orange juice. That was what you gave people who were in shock, right?

  Was she in shock?

  “Look, I just want to go home,” she tried again, and her voice softened a little. It had taken on an almost whining edge to it, not quite pleading with me but close.

  I ran a hand through my thick hair, making a frustrated noise in my chest. If she’d just stayed for a little longer, I’d have gotten her out of here and maybe avoided this whole fiasco. Though I’d have had to convince her to leave town that night, and somehow I didn’t think she’d go for it. Clearly, the Chaos Disciples knew who she was, and I had no doubt they could find her wherever she was currently living. It wouldn’t be that difficult.

  “There’s a chance those guys weren’t working alone,” I finally told her, not sure how else to get her to realize that she was in some very real danger, not without explaining what she unwittingly walked into, and that didn’t seem wise at the moment.

  An emotion flickered across her face, and she hesitated, but before I could be hopeful enough that that emotion was fear, she pulled herself up to sit straight and said, “I can take care of myself. In fact, I would have been fine.”

  I stared at her for several long seconds, then I just couldn’t help myself. I laughed. Loud and hard. There weren’t tears in my eyes, but it was close. I laughed long enough for her to get annoyed. She crossed her arms over her chest, but it took me a couple of seconds longer still before I could get myself under control. Finally, I said to her, “Baby, you’re not fine. And if I had been any later, who knows what would have happened to you.”

  Unfolding her arms, she placed her hands against my chest and shoved. I moved back, mostly because I was still half amused and watched as she got to her feet. She glared daggers at me, but I wasn’t fazed by her aggression. If anything, she was fucking sexy when she was mad, and I felt the emotions swirling around inside me coalesce into desire. Hot, hard desire.

  “Screw you!” she shouted at me, standing up from her chair. She swayed a little, though, and nearly fell back. I reached out to steady her. She tried to shake me off, but I held fast. “Let go of me
!”

  It was my turn to roll my eyes at her. “Don’t be a drama queen,” I chastised her. “You can’t stand without getting lightheaded, baby. So stop being difficult, and let me get you upstairs and cleaned up. You can be pissed off with me again afterward.”

  Refusing to listen to me, she continued to struggle. I got fed up. I wasn’t interested in negotiating with her over whether or not she was in good enough condition to walk up those damn stairs herself. And she needed to get fucking cleaned up. So I, once more, lifted her up into my arms—I found myself surprised all over again by how light she was in my arms—and ignored her cries of protest. She swatted at my shoulders a few times, but I didn’t care. I ignored that, too.

  I walked her up the stairs, my boots echoing heavily on the steps and bypassed both our bedrooms for the bathroom. I kicked open the door, then promptly deposited her on the countertop. She momentarily tried to squirm away saying, “You cannot just carry me around like that!”