Safe Rider (A Lost Saxons Novel Book 2)

by Jessica Ames

  “But I am. You’re standing here hurting because of him, and I brought him into your life.”

  “I’d gladly take a hundred hits for you.”

  “What happened?” I ask, because I need to know but Dean shakes his head.

  “Let’s go inside, get a coffee and I’ll tell you.”

  “Okay.”

  His arm drapes over my shoulder as he draws me into his side, tucking me against him as we head into the house. He has to release me so we can get through the back door and as I turn back he steps into the kitchen. Under the powerful LED lights, his injuries are illuminated and I can’t help but draw in air because he looks terrible.

  “Don’t get upset, love,” he tells me but it’s too late for that. He’s standing in front of me, hurting because of my ex-husband.

  He leads me over to the breakfast table and orders me to sit. I do as I’m told and watch as he lowers himself into the chair opposite. I don’t fail to notice how gingerly he moves or the slight wince as he sits. He looks like he should still be in the hospital.

  “This wasn’t your fault, Liv,” he tells me. “Simon made his own choices, so get that guilty look off your face.”

  “Dean, he beat the shit out of you to get to me.”

  “Yeah, but I’m still here.”

  “Just about, by the looks of it.” I fiddle absently with the sleeve cuff of my jumper. “I need you to tell me exactly what went on.”

  “Liv, no.”

  “Please, Dean. I need to know.”

  “Why? What good’s it going to do?”

  “You asked me to come here for you, and I did it without question. Now, I need to know this and I’m asking you to return that favour and give me the details—without question.”

  He stares at me, then growls, “Fuck. You’re not playing fair.”

  “Neither were you when you sent me here. Start talking.”

  His good hand, the one not in a sling goes into his hair. “Wilson took me and Beth. He picked her up in the hospital grounds after shooting up the clubhouse.” My eyes flare.

  “Holy shit… Did he… Did he kill anyone?”

  “No. Logan took a shard of glass to the back, which was why he and Beth were in the hospital in the first place. He shot Wade in the gut to get to her. He’s on the mend, don’t panic,” he adds at my stricken look.

  “Oh my God. You, Logan, Wade, Beth—all affected by my shitty life choices.”

  “Hey!” He snags my hand and squeezes it with just enough bite to make me take notice. “You’re not responsible for his actions. Just like I’m not. Simon was fucked in the head by the end, Liv. He was consumed with finding you and obsessed with delivering revenge.”

  The thought makes me go cold all over.

  “Where did he take you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I want to know.” I know I’m just torturing myself and I have no idea why I need to know this but I can’t help but want the details.

  “He took us to one of the old collieries. Beth got free and went for help. By the time she was outside Logan was there with the boys.”

  “And Simon?”

  He stares at me as he taps a finger against the table top. Then he says, “Isn’t a problem anymore.”

  The finality in his voice makes the hair on my arms stand on end. “Did you—is he dead?”

  “He’s no longer a problem,” he repeats.

  I don’t know how I feel about his words. Simon was a terrible person and he did awful things but the implication the Club ended him is one that has me conflicted, mainly because there’s part of me that thinks he brought all this on himself. And I don’t like what it says about me that I think that.

  “And Beth? Wade? They’re okay?”

  “Yeah, love, she’s healed mostly and Wade’s got a longer road to recovery but he’s getting there.”

  Guilt swamps me and I have to push it aside before it consumes me.

  “Are you? Healed mostly?”

  “I’m getting there.” He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. “All you need to know is you’re safe now.”

  Safe. Christ. I close my eyes and take a steadying breath.

  “Thank you.” It seems inadequate to say thank you, considering the shit he’s clearly been through. I don’t deserve him.

  “You don’t have to thank me for protecting you. I just hate that I didn’t protect you when he attacked you in the house.”

  “You weren’t to know.”

  “Yeah, we’ve both got regrets, darlin’ but we’ve got to look forward, not back.”

  He’s right but I can’t do that quite yet. “You should have called me as soon as it happened. I could have been with you. I should have been with you.”

  “We had a bigger problem than Wilson. I shouldn’t be telling you this shit, but you need to know. Wilson had inside help—that’s how he got inside the compound to shoot up the building and how he got to me. I reckon it’s also how he knew Beth was at the hospital.”

  I stare at him. “Someone helped him?”

  “Yeah. Problem is we don’t fucking know who. Can you think of any one of the brothers who has acted strange towards you?”

  I frown. “No. Dean, I barely know any of them.”

  “Derek put an information lock on you; no one was to talk about you, mention your name—you ceased to exist. But somehow Wilson knew I’d helped you get out of Kingsley. The only people who knew about that were the brothers who voted for that action. I can’t imagine a single one of them selling us down the river, darlin’, but someone knew, and someone fed that information back to Wilson. I don’t want you in the vicinity of this fucking shithead but we can’t stay gone forever without arousing suspicion. We need to draw the fox out of the henhouse, and to do that we’re going to have to be clever. So I need you to keep it quiet, but I also need you to be aware and keep your guard up until we figure out who it is and why they sold me and Beth out. In the meantime, you see anything suspicious you let me know, okay?”

  I nod. “Yeah, Dean.”

  He leans across the table and captures my lips, silencing me and then he kisses me senseless. His tongue pushes in past my teeth, and brushes over mine. It’s a hard, wet and sensual kiss that I feel from my toes up.

  When he pulls back I feel like a wet noodle.

  He kisses my nose. “I love you, darlin’. And I’m sorry I made you feel unsettled, but I did what I had to do to keep you and our baby safe, and I’d do it again. I told you before you left: you’re my world and without you my world ends. And I’ll always do what I have to do to keep you in my world.”

  I let out a long breath. I should care that he lied, I should care that he kept me in the dark, but I don’t. Not really. Harper’s words replay in my head. You can’t change Dean.

  And honestly, I’m not sure I want to.

  I lean over the table and press my mouth to his again.

  “I love you, Dean Lawler.”

  “And I love you.”

  Epilogue

  “You doing okay?”

  I glance up at Dean. We’re standing on the edge of the carpark, the shadow of the clubhouse looming behind us. I shouldn’t feel so at home here, but I do. I feel at home anywhere Dean is.

  I force my mouth into a wide beaming smile. “Yep.” Lie. I’m so far from okay it’s not even funny. His hand tightens on my hip as he tucks me further into his side.

  “It’s going to be fine.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll take care of you.”

  “I know,” I repeat, and I do. Dean always takes care of me, but it doesn’t stop my nerves from rolling.

  After Dean came to get me we drove home with Jem. Dean and I then spent the next two full days in bed, getting fully reacquainted with one another. Dean won’t tell me anything more about what happened with Simon, but I know it was bad by his silence. I hate that he went through something traumatic because of me.

  I hear the rumble of the bike before I see it.
Together, Dean and I watch the Harley enter the compound, turning into the bike parking area.

  The man sitting astride it is huge, then again all the Harlow brothers are behemoths, but Logan is bigger than Jem and Adam. His size makes the woman sitting behind him seem small, delicate.

  Dean squeezes me against him as we watch both of them disembark the bike and remove their helmets. Beth has a tumbling mane of soft brown hair and she looks every inch the biker chick in her full riding leathers.

  Logan holds his hand out to her and she takes it, and the look that passes between them is positively adorable. At least I think it is until Dean makes an irritated sound in the back of his throat.

  Beth’s eyes leave Logan and come to me. And boy, does she give me a hell of a going over. I shift under her scrutiny, as she scans my face before she clocks Dean’s arm around me.

  “Why don’t you boys go grab a beer while us girls catch up,” Beth says. Dean’s arm tightens around me, squeezing my hip.

  “No,” Dean says immediately, earning a cocked brow from Beth.

  “It’s fine,” I tell him, then I roll onto my toes and kiss him. “I’ll be fine.”

  Dean’s hand rubs over my nape under my hair. “Play nicely, B,” he says and she snorts.

  “Always.”

  Logan and Dean head into the clubhouse, Dean glancing over his shoulder at me as he walks. Beth lets out an irritated huff.

  “I love these boys, but my God, they need to learn to loosen the reins a little.” She nods in the direction of the picnic tables outside the front door. “Shall we sit?”

  “Okay,” I say, following her over. She takes a seat and I do the same. I watch as she shrugs out of her leather jacket and as soon as it exposes her neck I draw in a ragged breath.

  “Holy fuck.” The skin is mottled a dark brown and yellow, but it’s the shape that has me cursing. They’re clearly finger marks. “Did Simon do that?”

  Her hand moves to her throat as her brow wrinkles. “Shit…”

  “Oh my God,” I mutter, feeling suddenly sick. What the hell did he do to her? Bad enough he’d battered Dean, but Beth too… a woman he’s never even met.

  “It’s fine; it looks worse than it is.”

  “It looks horrendous.” I cover my mouth, trying to calm my rolling guts. “I don’t think I can say sorry enough times to fix this.”

  “You don’t need to; the apology isn’t yours to give,” she tells me. “It’s his.”

  “He was here because of me.”

  “He was here because of him,” she corrects.

  “What happened?”

  She tilts her head to the side, considering me. “Did you not just hear Dean telling me to play nicely? That also means I’m not supposed to upset you. Telling you this shit will just do that, and there’s no need; it’s done, it’s in the past.”

  I rub the back of my neck. “I’m sorry my ex dragged you into this shit. I never meant for anyone to get hurt because of me.”

  “He’s a piece of work,” she tells me.

  “Yeah, he is,” I agree.

  She glances out over the compound, her eyes going distant.

  “I was kind of surprised to hear you and Dean are together. The whole time I’ve been home not a single person has muttered your name, which is odd, given you’re dating one of the Club’s golden boys.”

  The accusation in her tone is clear, although I’m not sure what the hell she’s accusing me of.

  “Okay…”

  “No one said a word, not Mackenzie, not Sofia, not my dad, not Logan—no one.” She purses her lips. “Except Clara. She sang like a fucking canary, but she didn’t mention you were Dean’s. She told me you’re Wilson’s wife.”

  I still at her words.

  “That’s what the paperwork says.” And if my ex has met a messy end it may complicate the divorce process, meaning it may be what the paperwork says for at least another five years—until I can legally dissolve our marriage.

  “You love him?”

  “Simon?”

  She snorts. “Dean.”

  I laugh a little. “Oh. Yeah, I love Dean. I love him with everything I am.” And I do, and I like how my stomach feels when I say that. The little tingle of excitement that stirs deep in my gut is something I never experienced with Simon, but it’s there even if I just think about Dean.

  Beth nods, her gaze going back over the compound.

  “But you’re still married.”

  I stare at her. “Well, when I was running for my life I wasn’t really thinking about the paperwork.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about running for your life ever again; none of us do.”

  Her tone makes me frown. “Beth… what he did to you—”

  She holds up a hand. “It wasn’t your fault. And in a weird way, it was a positive thing. It brought me back to Logan—back to my family.” She smiles contentedly. “Dean loves you too. I’ve never seen him that protective before.”

  My heart swells as my hand dips down to cover my still-flat stomach. Only a handful of people know about the baby; Dean wants to make sure we get past the three month point before we tell people—which is fast approaching.

  “Yeah, he’s a good man.” I reach across the table and grab her hand. She blinks, then covers her reaction fast. “You don’t have to worry about him, Beth. I’ll take care of him.”

  “I know you will.” She considers me for a moment. “What happened to me, Dean and Wade… it wasn’t your fault, Liv. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

  “Yeah, easier said than done.”

  “I know, but you shouldn’t.” She sighs. “I hate to do this, but it’s kind of obligatory…”

  I frown at her. “Do what?”

  Her lips quirk. “Give you the warning about hurting my best friend.”

  I laugh. “I think it’s me that you need to worry about—not Dean.”

  And that is the truth because Dean doesn’t just have the power to hurt me—he has the power to destroy me.

  She makes a noise in the back of her throat. “Dean’ll treat you like a fucking princess.” She climbs off the bench. I take her offered hand and let her help me up. It’s an olive branch and I take it willingly. She hooks her arm through mine. “Come on princess, let’s go find our men.”

  We approach the common room, voices and music growing louder the nearer we get. As we step inside, we’re greeted by brothers and old ladies. There are little kids running around, yelling and playing games. Mackenzie and Sofia are sitting with Jamie and Sammy at a small round table while Jack, Slade and Derek are near the patio doors with Clara.

  Dean, who is stood at the bar with Logan and Weed, catches my eye and gives me a sexy as sin grin before he pushes off the counter.

  He doesn’t waste much time before he crosses the floor and comes to me. His arms go around me instantly, putting us chest-to-chest.

  “You survived.”

  “I survived,” I confirm.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine, honey.”

  He kisses me. “Monday morning.”

  I wrack my brain… are we supposed to be doing something? “What about it?”

  “We’re going into town and we’re starting this divorce shit.” He kisses me again. “I want you to be mine.”

  “I already am yours.”

  “I want you to be mine completely.” He runs his nose over mine. “I love you.”

  “And I love you.”

  And I do because Dean showed me how to love again, how to feel again. He showed me how to trust and how to laugh. He is my security, my safety. Dean Lawler is my safe rider.

  The End

  To find out more about The Lost Saxons series subscribe to my newsletter:

  https://www.jessicaamesauthor.com/newsletter

  Also by Jessica Ames

  Lost Saxons

  Snared Rider

  Safe Rider

  Acknowledgments

  As usual, I
have so many people to thank. Firstly, my friends and family. Without their unending support for my crazy antics I wouldn’t be publishing at all. I can’t believe I’m on book two! Thank you so much for all you do to help me realise my dream.

  I have to say a huge shout out to my author tribe: SE Roberts, Annabella Stone, Annie Dyer and Emery Rose—you girls seriously keep me putting pen to paper. I hope I inspire you all as much as you inspire me. Thank you for celebrating even the small wins with me.

  Thank you to my amazing group admins: Valerie and Michelle. All your hard work allows me to focus on writing. I appreciate what you do so much, and I’m grateful for both your friendships.

  I also have to thank my editor, Eliza. Without you this book would not be what it is today. You were so amazing. I can’t even put into words how amazing you were with this one. I love working with you and I love that you just ‘get’ what I’m about. Thank you, love, for digging me out of a hole I didn’t even know I was in.

  Thanks to Paige and Charisse for polishing my words until they shone! You girls worked so hard and I appreciate it so much.

  Kellie, your covers are always amazing, but I adored this one. I can’t even tell you how much you captured the essence of Liv in this one image.

  And lastly thank you to everyone who has bought my books and joined my social media channels. Your unending support means more than you know.

  About the Author

  Jessica Ames was raised in a small market town in the Midlands, England. She lives with her crazy mongrel terrier and when she’s not writing she’s playing with crochet hooks. From the moment she was old enough to hold a pen she created fantastical stories and by the age of 17 had written her first full-length novel: a fantasy story about an exiled boy king. It was a cliched mess, but she realised she could, in fact, write and finish a book!

  Knowing she needed to make money, she found work in the publishing world. Over the next decade, she honed her skills and worked hard to learn everything she could about writing. In January 2018, in a moment of insanity, she quit her job in magazine publishing to write books full time.