Lonely Rider - The Box Set: A Motorcycle Club Romance - The Complete Series

by Melissa Devenport

  “Which is why we’re going to him.” It was a statement not a question. Kirstin wanted nothing more than to close her aching, burning eyes and sleep, but they were too close, so close. She could sleep when they were there, when they were safe. “It’s weird, but I keep thinking that stretching out in a bed is going to feel like heaven. I took all that stuff for granted before. I- I won’t again.”

  A sigh escaped from the opposite side of the car. It was deep and drawn out. “I’m sorry that I said you were a brat or spoiled or whatever.” His tone was deep and smoky.

  Kirstin couldn’t help the smile that played over her lips. “Yeah? Why? Maybe I am.”

  “No. I was just tired. My nerves are wrecked.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I might have done a lot of shit in my life. I never had a stable upbringing. I bounced around from foster home to foster home. Joining the clubs was like- well, I got to be part of something larger than myself. It was a feeling of family and I’d never had that before. It was important to me. When I went back to being a civilian in between, I could take care of myself, I mean, I had the resources and the capability, but I was lonely. I didn’t fit in anywhere with anyone. I- fuck, whatever.” He shook his head when she glanced at him. His lips thinned out and it was obvious he didn’t want to elaborate. “I guess I just wanted to say, even though I’m shit at talking about pretty much anything, is that I- I’ve never had to run for my life really. I was on the streets before, but I never had any doubt that I’d survive. I’ve never actually been hunted before.”

  “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

  “No. It’s not. Bone gave the orders. Honestly, your questions about your father’s death made me think harder. I took Bone at his word, blindly. I wouldn’t have followed his orders, but I believed him when he said your father was on the run and he needed to be put down. I know what the club’s rules are. Even if it’s harsh, we all know them. I- now I don’t know what to think. It’s better being on the run than being a part of a club who would murder their own members because they feared a civil fucking war in the club, or over some fucking disagreement.”

  Kirstin’s chest ached. She felt like she’d been the one stabbed, right by her heart. She closed her eyes and wished they were different people, in a different time. That everything was different. That they could have just been a regular guy and a regular girl. That maybe she’d gone out for a drink after a shitty breakup and she’d met Damon, who was out having a good time with friends. They didn’t expect to meet and they didn’t expect the sparks. She’d tell her mom that there was a boy, no, a man, she couldn’t stop thinking about. Her dad would have some office job and he’d warn her off and invite her to bring the guy over at the same time, for dinner, so that he could put the fear of god into him. Damon would laugh and joke and win her mom and dad over. He’d win her over…

  But they weren’t.

  They were never going to be just a guy and a girl living a regular life. He wasn’t a civilian and, god, she wasn’t really one either. She’d been immersed in her father’s world for as long as she could remember.

  She didn’t doubt for one second that Bone was capable of murder. Hearing Damon speak it out loud again twisted her stomach until bile rose up, acrid and biting, in the back of her throat. Rage burned through her bloodstream, filling her up, caging her in. I need to get free. I need to leave this all behind. Especially Damon. He was a reminder of her past. She’d never be able to start fresh if he was in her life in any capacity.

  “You’re really quiet. It’s unnerving. What are you thinking about?”

  Kirstin snapped out of her morose thoughts. “I- I don’t know. I’m just glad we’re close. I’m exhausted. It’s not making any of this easier. I’ll probably feel better after I’ve rested.”

  Damon’s hands tightened on the wheel. She watched his knuckles whiten, because it was easier than watching his face. She didn’t want to see his pain or his torment, not when she had so much of her own to worry about. She didn’t want him to see her. He’d always been able to look at her and see straight through to her soul. She wanted to close herself off, not open all her wounds up again.

  “No doubt.” That rich, smoky tone filled up the car. “We’re going to make it, Kirstin. You know that, right? That everything is going to be okay. One day, soon, this is going to seem like a bad dream.”

  “Yeah,” she lied. “I know.” She settled back against her seat and turned her face. She pretended to stare at the scenery passing by as they entered the city, but really, she saw nothing at all. Even if the bad dream ended, she was always going to have these memories. She’d never be able to erase her past or her parents’ murder.

  She might wake one day, but in her soul, the nightmare would always be very real.

  Chapter 14

  DAMON

  He’d never seen a more beautiful sight. That tiny rustic log cabin, closed in on all sides by woods, in the middle of fucking nowhere, more than an hour out of civilization- it was a dream. It was refuge. It was a safe haven.

  They’d made it out alive. They were safe.

  Because Kirstin sat beside him, observing him, leaning forward in her seat, her hands clenched in her lap, eyes wide, he didn’t expel the long rush of air that would have let her know just how relieved he was. He stayed strong. Honestly, they weren’t out of danger yet, but for the first time in days, he finally relaxed enough to let some of the tension drain out of his aching muscles.

  A man exited the small log cabin. The yard was nice, with a garden off to the side, a shed in one direction, and toys scattered throughout.

  It gave Damon a bit of start to realize what those toys meant. Children.

  He climbed out of the car and greeted Creed with one of those awkward man hugs. A rough clap to the shoulder. Damon knew he was a big bastard, but Creed was even larger. The guy, though he looked older, with new lines around his eyes and bracketing his mouth, than he remembered. His blonde hair was long and well kept, tied back. He sported a massive beard that he sure as hell hadn’t had before. It suited him though. Went along with the whole mountain man aura.

  “I’m glad you made it,” Creed said in that booming voice of his. His sharp eyes missed nothing as they raked over the car.

  “Are you?” Damon glanced at the toys again. “You have kids? You should have told me. I never would have come here if I’d known that you had a family-”

  Creed shook his head. “I sent them away. My wife has family down south. She went to stay with her mom and dad for a while and took the kids. A nice family vacation, you know? Nothing out of the ordinary. She hadn’t got away for a while and her parents were missing her. I surprised her with the tickets.”

  “She didn’t know about any of this,” Damon said flatly.

  One blonde brow rose in response. “No.” Creed’s attention was pulled back to the car as Kirstin got out and slammed the door behind her.

  “Thank you for doing this. You didn’t have to help us. I- I called you because we were always friends. Brothers. But also because I knew if there was someone who could get us out of this, it would be you. You used to be the best with the fake ID’s. The new lives. At making people disappear.”

  “Yes.” Creed’s attention remained focused on Kirstin and tendrils of jealousy snaked through Damon’s chest. He knew it was irrational and he pushed it down. “I think we have some things to discuss. She looks tired though. In need of a shower, a meal, and some rest.”

  “We haven’t exactly been living like kings while we were fleeing for our lives.” Damon rolled his eyes and Creed laughed. The sound filled up the clearing.

  Whether he should or not, Damon felt oddly at peace in the presence of nature. The towering trees that surrounded the property, the sheer remoteness of the area, it inspired his confidence that they could be there and remain unseen. Maybe it was a false sense of security, or maybe it was just nice to be out of the city for the first time in his life. His shit foster parents ha
dn’t bothered with family fucking camping trips growing up. The silence that surrounded them, it was… it was nice. It made something inside of him clench and unclench. He inhaled and found that he could actually breathe. He cherished the sensation of his lungs expanding and contracting in his chest.

  “It’s just fucking nice to be alive, isn’t it?” Creed glanced at him, as though he knew exactly what Damon was thinking.

  Damon nodded. “Yeah. Out here, it’s like being reborn.”

  Creed grinned. “That’s exactly what you’re going to be, my friend. Re-fucking-born. I’ll have your ID’s for you by tomorrow morning. I made some calls and pulled a few strings. I’ll have to go into the city for them, but you can stay here. After that, we’ll come up with a plan of action and get you out to wherever it is you need to go.”

  Kirstin stood awkwardly by the car, oddly silent. Her eyes took in everything and Damon knew that she was hanging on every word. He didn’t like that she was being so quiet. He’d rather she pouted or sassed him or argued. The quiet was disconcerting. Then again, she was obviously exhausted.

  He turned to her. “Come on. Let’s get you into the house. Like Creed said, you could use a shower and a good meal and then some rest. I’ll deal with our bags.”

  Kirstin ducked her head. “Okay.” She agreed too easily, but Damon passed it off as her exhaustion.

  Creed led them both into the cabin. It was small, with a kitchen and living room that were open to each other, a bathroom that had been added on with running water, probably for the wife and kids, and two bedrooms.

  While he and Creed talked business and caught each other up on the past years, Kirstin showered. Creed made them sandwiches and they ate like there wasn’t going to be a next meal. After, he showed Kirstin to what was obviously the kid’s room. Creed refused to talk about his family in any real detail and Damon didn’t press. He knew the guy wanted to protect them at all costs and the less Damon knew, the better.

  Kirstin curled up on the bottom bunk on top of a pink flowered quilt She was asleep within seconds.

  Damon didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to stay and watch her sleep. What that said about him, he wasn’t fucking sure. He didn’t want to think about it, so he followed Creed back to the living room, where they could talk about how in the fucking world he was going to make it appear that Kirstin Sinclair and Damon Campbell were no longer among the ranks of the living.

  Chapter 15

  KIRSTIN

  When Kirstin forced her heavy lidded eyes open, eyes that felt like they’d been glued shut with the stickiest kind of superglue, darkness flooded the small room. She lay still for a moment, getting her bearings. The moon was high and full and silver beams slanted through the window. The panes of glass were old, but clean. Whoever Creed’s woman was, she kept a neat cabin. The thing wasn’t overrun with toys or cluttered up with material items. It was neat and orderly.

  That familiar ache in her chest was back. It rushed up and threatened to consume her. She wanted that for her own life. She wished for her parents to be back, more than anything. She wished for her small bungalow, in her refuge in a busy world. She even wished she could go back to her shitty retail job that she’d always complained about so much.

  She’d always told herself that one day she’d go to college. Her parents had money set aside for her, but she just wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with her life so she’d put it off until she could be sure. She didn’t want to waste years of her life and her mom and dad’s money by switching her major a hundred times like some people did.

  It struck her as very, very wrong that she still had no clue what she wanted to do with her life, even after she’d just about lost it. She was so close to winding up dead, and she was no closer to finding answers or guidance.

  Kirstin sat up slowly, soundlessly. Damon’s soft, even breaths drifted down from the bunk above. She started, cursing herself for not realizing before that he was there. Of course he was there. It was night and where else would he sleep?

  Her head throbbed and her chest ached. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she had to try and get out of there. She didn’t need a fake ID to get herself away safely. She could take her bag and disappear into the night. She’d walk through the woods until she found her way back to the road. It would be a long way, but she’d get back to St. Paul somehow, or maybe hitch a ride north, to Canada. She had her passport in her bag. She’d likely have no problem getting in. After that, she could worry about finding a new life, a fake ID, and taking care of herself.

  If she let Creed and Damon provide it for her, she’d never truly be free.

  It confounded and annoyed her that when she cast one look at Damon’s face, his features smoothed out and even in sleep, that she was struck by his innocence and it twisted her insides to think about leaving him.

  I’m not his and he’s not mine.

  Her bag sat on the floor a few feet from the bed. Kirstin picked up the strap and slung it over her back. She’d put on a clean pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt after her shower. The night was no doubt warm and she’d be fine to slip out of the cabin. She donned her riding boots smoothly and silently.

  Something inside of her, the traitorous part of herself that couldn’t be trusted, begged her to take one last look at Damon.

  She didn’t.

  She ducked her head and slipped out of the room. There was a carpeted runner in the hall, over the worn floorboards, which blanketed her steps.

  Kirstin fully expected to be stopped on her way out the front door. It was too easy to slip out that way, without anyone noticing. Creed and Damon weren’t like other men. They were tough. They’d survived childhoods that would shatter most people. She was just guessing on that, on both fronts, but she was pretty sure from what Damon had told her that it hadn’t been altogether happy. Creed sounded like the kind of guy who hadn’t come from roses and sunshine. Most people didn’t end up joining biker clubs when they come from old money and trust funds.

  Even if he had, from all accounts, he was an excellent tracker. Not much slipped by him. Damon’s senses were honed far sharper than her own after years of survival and running with the tough crowd. He’d told her he’d done pretty much everything short of murder and she believed him.

  Despite the two hulking men in the house, Kirstin made it clear of the cabin and across the yard without being seen. There were no heavy footfalls behind her. No one called her name.

  The edge of the woods rose up around her, far more intimidating and dark than it had been in the daylight. She’d never really been out of the city before. At least, not like this. She’d been on rides with her dad. She’d even slept under the stars once. She’d never walked through dense forest, alone at night, without the aid of any light.

  She couldn’t risk taking the flashlight out of her duffel. She did set the thing down and dug her gun out. She tucked it into the waist of her jeans, at the back. She arranged her shirt back over the weapon, feeling irrationally safer now that she had it out. She slung her bag over her shoulder again and though it was heavy and the strap cut into her shoulder, Kirstin pushed forward.

  She picked her way through the trees for the better part of an hour. Not that she had a watch or a phone, but she assumed it had been at least that long. Her nerves hadn’t settled and her heart beat fast as a sickening surge of adrenaline coursed through her bloodstream. Her heart beat hard, abusing the inside of her chest.

  A twig snapped to her right and she let out a little gasp and whirled. There was nothing there. The moonlight shone through the leafy branches, creating dappled shadows on the forest floor. Roots stuck out here and there, moss grew heavily, leaves and low creepy plants created a living carpet.

  It’s a just a deer. Or- or a bear. Please, don’t be a bear.

  Her lungs burned as she held her breath and eventually she was forced to expel it in a long rush. She took a few deeper, cleansing breaths in an attempt to calm herself. The night wasn’t windy
, but a gentle breeze did rustle the leaves above her. The sound should have been comforting, but she found it terrifying.

  What if I’m lost? What if I die in here? I could starve or get eaten by a wild animal. What if I never reach the road?

  Panic closed up her throat and pinpricks of tears burned her eyes and the bridge of her nose. She tried to rationalize her way out of her fear, tried to sew herself back together, but the thread was thin and threatened to snap. She had to hold onto her sanity. She had to be calm and rational and not let fear get the better of her.

  I’ve survived so far. I’m tough. I’m my father’s daughter. I’m my mother’s daughter. They loved me. I will survive for them. I will make it.

  Kirstin pushed on, though everything inside of her now wished that she’d stayed in the warm, comfortable log cabin with Damon. God, why did she run from him? Why was she so sure that leaving him behind was the right thing to do? She knew she could trust him. He wouldn’t betray her. Why did she have to run from him? From what he represented? Why did she think that striking out on her own was better than letting him in?

  Right. Because everyone she’d loved in her life, she’d lost. She couldn’t handle one more loss. She couldn’t handle the pain of letting someone close again.

  She had to figure out how to heal herself before she’d be good for anything. He was dangerous. How she felt when he was close, how her body betrayed her, how she wanted to stay with him, how she imagined his arms providing a safe refuge- it was dangerous. She couldn’t let herself fall into that trap. She wasn’t strong enough to resist him and she wasn’t strong enough to stay, so the only option left was to leave.

  A twig snapped again, louder this time. Sharper, closer, just behind her.

  Kirstin whirled. She expected to find nothing again, just the clearing, the groans and aches of the woods all around her. She was readying her pep talk to herself about her imagination taking over and getting out of control again.