by Madison Faye
Nothing’s going to stop us from making her ours.
Abby
When I left my ex, I had nothing, but I knew I could never go back to the man who’d hit me. Worse though, he’s in the mob - I and had nowhere to go.
But lost, out of gas, and alone on the side of the road, help came in the form of the last two men I’d ever expect it from. Rough, dark, and dangerous attractive, the two road-hardened bikers might be everything that scares me, and yet everything I need.
The only problem is that I can’t decide between them... but I might not need to.
Jackson / Conner
We’ve been outlaws since the day we were born, and we’ll be outlaws until we die. For the right price, we’ll do any dirty job.
Except maybe this one.
Abby’s ex wants us to hunt her down and kill her - but when we saw the sinfully irresistible, mouth-watering woman on the side of the road, we only had one thing on our minds.
We had take her, possess her, and make her ours.
Hope she doesn’t mind that we like to share.
Twice Driven
Copyright © 2016 Madison Faye
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.
This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.
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Twice Driven
Madison Faye
Twice Driven:
Chapter 1 - Abby
Chapter 2 - Abby
Chapter 3 - Jackson
Chapter 4 - Abby
Chapter 5 - Connor
Chapter 6 - Abby
Chapter 7 - Jackson
Chapter 8 - Connor
Chapter 9 - Abby
Chapter 10 - Connor
Chapter 11 - Jackson
Epilogue - Abby
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Chapter 1
Abby
The third time Joe hit me was when I packed my bags and headed out the door. I didn’t leave a note, and didn’t even take everything I owned. I just waited until he passed out in front of the t.v., threw some clothes in a bag, and got in the car.
Running away from a relationship like that is never easy - or safe - for anyone. Doing it when your boyfriend’s dad is a lieutenant in the mob?
Yeah, things get a bit trickier.
Joe’s family was “made”, as they say, which meant leaving wasn’t going to be as easy as staying at a friend’s house or checking into a motel in the city. No way. I knew I had to really leave - leave as in “disappear”. It wan’t an easy decision, but then, it was really my only one after that last time when he knocked me to the floor.
Yeah, takes a real man to punch his girlfriend when his team loses a football game.
Fuck that.
And so when I got in the car that night, I aimed west, turned on the radio, and just drove. I didn’t really know where I was going, or even where I’d sleep that night, but I’d hit the breaking point. Literally anything was better than the shit-show of a relationship the last two years had been. I was done.
*****
When the Las Vegas lights faded behind me, I felt better. But it was when I started to leave even the surrounding towns behind that I finally took the time to pull over, take a breath and finally let my heart stop beating so fast.
I was free.
There was a distinct chance Joe would come looking for me - I knew that, especially if “the family” got involved. But that was a risk that was worth it to me. When you’re in that deep with something that bad, you sort of lose track of who you even are. After two years, I felt like a blank slate. I might not have known who I was anymore, but another part of me knew that meant I could be anything I wanted to be.
Because I was free.
I pulled back onto the road, let the windows down, and let the hot summer wind blow through my hair as I chased down the horizon.
Chapter 2
Abby
Of course, “finding me” wasn’t going to be free. The first night, I’d caught a few hours of sleep parked outside a diner with my doors locked. I drove all day the next night, fueled by coffee and a driving need to put as much distance between myself and Joe as possible before I stopped. But by that next night though, I knew I had to find a real place to stay.
I was also going to need gas really soon.
Well, that and money...if I even had enough gas to even get some place to spend it.
I’d purposely left the the major highways behind in order to stay off the radar in case Joe as already after me. Rightfully, of course, but there’s one thing about highways; they do a pretty great job of getting you to gas when you need it. Out here on country route 88 though, there was nothing; not a thing that I could see on the horizon. I knew I was low, but by the time I actually realized the gas light was on, things were looking bleak.
Finally, way up on the horizon, I spotted a big gas station logo I recognized, and felt the relief wash over me. Getting suck out here in the badlands of wherever I was without gas, or money, or even any idea where I was going wasn’t exactly going to help me much.
It wasn’t until I got closer, the car practically sputtering on fumes, that I groaned as I saw the reality.
The gas station was dead, like, zombie move dead. The place probably hadn’t been open and pumping fuel in twenty years, which was more and more apparent as I pulled in, as if actually stopping next to a pump was going to somehow magically convince it to start pumping again.
I groaned as I shut off the engine and slumped my forehead against the wheel. I had no idea how long the gas light had been on, but getting to wherever the next station was seemed like a bleak prospect. But I was exhausted, the afternoon was getting late, and sitting here kicking myself for being an idiot and not taking the highway wasn’t going to do any good either.
“Back on the road then,” I mumbled out loud, swearing to myself as I pushed the keys back in the ignition. There was a soft chugging sound for a moment a the car tried to rumble to life before it gave up with a wheezing sound.
Oh you’ve got to be shitting me I thought to myself. I tried again and swore loudly as the same sounds and same results repeated themselves.
I was officially out of gas, officially stuck on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, and officially s
crewed.
The dull, thundering roar came from behind me, the searing churn of engines growing louder and louder until I turned just in time to see the two motorcycles go flying down the deserted stretch of road. I’d gotten a glimpse of leather and tan skin before they’d blown right past the deserted gas station in a cloud of dust.
Suddenly though, way down the stretch of road there, I saw them suddenly slow and turn, before I could hear the engines growl again as they began to roar back my way.
I could feel my blood run cold. Here I was sitting alone in my car at an abandoned gas pump on a deserted stretch of highway, with zero cell phone reception and two bikers had just turned around to head back to me. All of a sudden every crazy late-night college story about biker gangs and initiation “mayhem” came rushing into my head, and I found myself gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, feeling the fear shoot through me.
What if Joe had sent them?
I quickly snapped out of my trance and locks the doors as they roared loser, before suddenly realizing how ridiculous a move it was. As if a closed window on an empty highway was going to stop them.
The two roaring bikes came rolling into the dusty, cracked-pavement of the gas station. With a final snarling crescendo and a pop, the thundering sound cut out suddenly, and there was silence.
The two motorcycles, all black, leather, and chrome, had come to a stop about twenty feet in front of my truck, their engines off now and ticking quietly in the afternoon heat. But what really caught my eye were the two men sat astride the bikes. They were both were clad in dark boots, denim, and leather vests over chiseled and heavily inked torsos with muscled, equally tattooed arms. These guys didn’t look like a couple of yuppies out on their weekend motorcycles. I thought again about all those “biker gang” stories; these guys looked like the real deal.
One of them dismounted with practiced ease, shaking his dirty blond hair out as he pulled off his helmet and hung it on the handlebars. He kept his sunglasses on, but I could tell they were both just sitting there looking at me. He looked at his partner and nodded, and I could feel my breath start to come in heaving gasps.
Oh my God, this is how it happens. This is how no one ever sees me again.
The man who’d stepped off his bike pulled his sunglasses off then as he turned and started to move towards me, like some sort of jungle cat stalking his prey. I could see his eyes then - sharp and blue, and trained right on me, and I could feel the cold dread welling upside as I sat there hyperventilating inside the hot confines of my car.
He stopped a few feet from the car and furrowed his brow as he looked at me, before he suddenly took a step back and raised his hands up. “Look, we were just seeing if you were having car trouble.”
The blonde guy’s voice was honeyed, with just a touch of twang in it. There was a lopsided, cocky grin on his face as he stood there in jeans and a white t-shirt pulled tight across a thickly muscled chest. Inked tattoo lines ran out from under the fabric and down his arms.
God he was attractive. Rough-looking, yes, but in that rugged, manly way that you really only saw in the movies.
I took a deep breath. Screw it. If they wanted to hurt me, it’s not like a locked car door and a rolled up window were going to stop them out here in the middle of nowhere.
I opened the door. “Well, the car is fine, I guess its just the gas I’ve got a problem with.”
The man grinned, his blue eyes flashing at me. “Well, the pumps off, so there’s your problem.” His grin widened, showing his white teeth and his chiseled jaw line. His friend snorted behind him, before standing and taking his own helmet off. His long black hair was held back from his face in a small ponytail and a coarse and thick beard framed his lips. The two of them strode forward, hard, muscled, and sweating in the desert heat. I felt a flutter of nervous energy hit me, and I took a deep breath.
“I’m Jackson, and this is Connor.” I stepped from the car and shook the blonde guy’s hand, feeling the power in his grip before turning to the dark haired bearded guy and doing the same.
“Abby.”
“Where you headed, honey?”
I shook my head, my eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses I wore. “I- I don’t actually know. West, I guess?” I forced a smile, trying not to think about what might still be coming after me. “Just taking a trip and hoping to get some adventures along the way.”
“Well, I’d say you tripped right into one right here.” Jackson’s eyes glinted as his hardened face cracked into a smile. “Well listen, we canspare a bit to get you down the road a little bit. There’s a little town about twenty miles further with a gas station and a diner, and motel if you’re not looking got keep driving all night.”
I shook my head, the fear and apprehension I’d had when they’d first rolled in just dropping away. “That would be amazing! You guys are life savers, thanks so much!”
Connor’s eyes’s narrowed at me, and his grin turned darker. “Rules of the road apply through honey - cash, grass, or ass.”
I froze, all the fear from earlier hitting me all at once again.
“No one rides for free.” His eyes flashed at me, the corners of his mouth curling up.
Oh, they want to get paid.
I let my breath out again, feeling my pulse race. “Oh, shit, yeah of course, I can totally pay you guys-”
The two of them broke down in laughter, snorting and clapping each other on the back.
“Don’t listen to him, honey, he’s just being a fucking asshole,” Jackson said with a cocky grin, rolling his eyes at his friend. I let out a shaky breath, feeling my knees go week as I leaned against the side of my car.
Awww shit, I’m just fuckin with you girl!” The two men chuckled deeply, weeping with laughter as I felt the blood come back into my face.
Connor grinned and shook his head. “Sorry, darlin, couldn’t resist. We’re happy to help - got a spare tank strapped to the back of mine.”
I let out a slow, heavy stream of air, feeling the blood rush back into my limps as I watched him chuckle as he headed back to his bike.
“Sorry for my friend, he thinks he’s humorous.” Jackson arched a brow at me, those piercing blue eyes looking right into mine through the shaded I wore. Part of me felt rude not taking them off, but doing so mean showing them the black eye behind them, and I just didn’t feel like going down that route.
*****
Ten minutes later, I was watching as Connor screwed the cap back onto my tank and shut the flap.
“It’s not much, but it should get you to town at least.”
I shook my head, biting my lip. “I can’t even thank you enough for it. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you guys hadn’t driven by.”
“Not a problem, darlin,” Jackson said with another easy smile. His eyes dipped down to my bare arm, and suddenly he frowned. I followed his look and felt my cheeks blush as I quickly tucked my arms across my chest, hiding the bruise from Joe.
“Everything okay, honey?” His honeyed voice drawled out as he looked up at me, his eyes narrowing.
“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine,” I said, nodding quickly and forcing a smile to my face.
“You sure?” Connor jaw tightened as he started to peer closer at the hair I’d let fall over the edge of my sunglasses.
“I’m fine, really,” I said quickly, taking a deep breath. “Thank you so much for the gas, honestly. I can send you money if you give me your-”
“It’s really not a problem, darlin,” Jackson said, his voice even as he glanced once more at my arm. “Town isn’t far - you should rest up there for the night.”
I nodded, chewing on my lip.
“Marge Rawlings runs the motel and the diner in town,” Connor said with a nod. “Best cup of coffee for forty miles, I swear.”
