I didn’t even realize my lower lip was trembling until he smoothed his thumb over it. Wow. Terrified to aroused in three seconds flat. Go ahead and put me in the Guinness Book of World Records as a woman most rapidly rendered to a puddle.
“You’ll be fine. Just hold on tight.”
Famous last words.
I nodded jerkily and he set the helmet on my head. Considering our options were to get out of town or stay, I knew I had to accept the fate of transportation. I only hoped he’d slap down the visor before I cried.
In a swift and graceful maneuver, he swung one leg over the seat and straddled it. Turning, he faced me and held out his hand. It could have been a sweet gesture. Like the prince inviting a lady to join him horseback. If it weren’t for the teeny twitch of his jaw, I would have missed the hint of his impatience altogether.
Still, he wasn’t getting bossy about it. Perhaps he had a gentle side hidden somewhere in there.
Determined to face my fears independently, I ignored his hand and climbed on. His body was the most logical thing to hold on to, so I wrapped my arms around his solid torso and screwed my eyes shut. At least he wasn’t a dick and laughing about how I was obviously shaking.
I leaned in with him as he moved forward. With a flick of his wrist, he started the engine. I squeezed him tighter, and if that was a chuckle I felt vibrating from him now, I’d make sure to slap him once we both got off this thing.
As he revved the engine and ramped up the throttle, warming the bike, if I had to guess, I pressed my legs tighter to the outside of his thighs. The feeling of his muscled legs didn’t surprise me and I felt a smidgen of guilty confidence that I was already familiar with him. Strapped to him as he backed up and prepared to drive off, it wasn’t the first time I’d clung to him like a koala. Once he faced the handlebars in the direction of the exit, I tensed for the air whipping past us.
I sucked in small breaths between clenched teeth while he drove us out into the city streets. I almost grew accustomed to this intimacy of straddling him, hugging him so fiercely as we made our way down the streets.
At the red light before the turn for the highway, I scooted even closer, probably pushing him too far forward as I tried to burrow into him. He turned to partly face me. Before he spoke, he let go of one handlebar and patted my hand clutching at his jacket. “Ready?”
Fuck no.
But like everything that had happened since I’d left home, I had no choice if I wanted to live.
****
Facing fears was an exhausting endeavor. The racing heartrate that spiked with anxiety, and then the mellowing crash of realizing survival was possible. For hours, Luke had driven his motorcycle out of Ohio and through most of Pennsylvania. I wasn’t so sensitized that I’d start spouting praise for bikes, but damn, they really went a lot of miles on one tank of gas. I could admire economical efforts.
All that time that I’d ridden behind him, I refused to loosen my grip or back away from him. His warm and hard body was the only thing grounding me from freaking out every time he turned, sped up, or stopped quickly. Most of the drive was on the highway, so he wasn’t constantly stopping and going. With it being my virgin experience on a motorcycle, I had nothing to compare his skills with, but it didn’t feel like he was being stupid or showing off with reckless driving. Sure, it was terrifyingly fast, but I suspected he was compromising a balance of making good time and avoiding going over the limit.
I’d wrapped my fingers under the cuff of my hoodie sleeves, and by tucking my face against his back, my cheek to his shoulder blade, I was spared most of the wind. We weren’t decked in highway bike attire—no leathers or chaps organized with how impromptu our journey began—but with the sun bright and high, and the temperatures rising with an unusually warm spring day, it wasn’t so bad.
Sometime after noon, we stopped for food and fuel and Luke insisted on getting a backpack to replace my tote, a pair of gloves for him, and a leather jacket for me. I paid for my belongings, cash courtesy of Rosa again, since we were avoiding credit cards and a digital trail. Luke hefted out a good sum of bills as well, and while I didn’t blurt out a question, I did wonder why he was carrying so much.
“How much further do we go today?” I asked as he waited for the gas to top off. Stretching my back, I felt the dull aches from my legs.
“Sore?” He roved his gaze too slowly, starting at my legs and ending on my neck.
“Considering I’ve never ridden a bike before…” I reminded him and he smirked. Without bothering to be modest about it, I massaged my butt.
“So, that’s a yes, then,” he retorted.
Yeah, my inner thighs were a bit tender too. I set my hand on my hip. He didn’t have to rub it in. Oooooh. Him rubbing me would be perfect, actually. I’d take a masseur with hands fit for Atilla the Hun I was so out of sorts.
With limited ability to use our phones, we were relying on the navigational steps Zero had texted us earlier. Direct phrases with a lot of east and north, the rest simple numbers. I was more of a landmark finder than a numeric street code follower, so I wasn’t going to get bossy about Luke being the leader between us today.
“Until nightfall,” he finally answered as he hung the gas nozzle back up.
Damn. That wasn’t for a few more hours. I didn’t think we’d be able to drive the entire distance to Griffin Bank in one day. But we had started early. If I was getting tired from just sitting there and clinging to him like Velcro, he had to be getting fatigued of driving.
I couldn’t argue his goal though. The faster we got to New York and I opened Rosa’s safety deposit box, the faster we might find Rosa and be one step closer to knowing what the hell was going on with Michael. And locating Rosa ASAP meant Luke would be free to leave. Not that he wasn’t free now. I still wasn’t sure why he was still with me, helping me, when I’d caused him so much headache. What was in it for him to assist me? An extension of his friendship with Rosa? Some mutual bond we’d instantaneously forged by surviving the same life-or-death situation—times two? I was too chicken to ask in case my question would stun him into wizening up that he should take off. I could be selfish like that.
“Ready?”
I gestured with a lift of my hand for him to hop on now that the tank was filled. My MO in life was very similar to Rosa’s. With books as my endless companions and never having a very high quota for adventures, I liked to keep to myself. Yet a sinking uneasiness spread whenever I considered Luke not being with me. Clingy wasn’t my style. Dependency wasn’t attractive as I preferred to do things my way rather than let others take over.
He was an addictive comfort that only grew and intensified as I sat behind him, molding my arms and legs around him. With nothing else to do than worry about Michael, and tranq guns, and Rosa’s apartment being bombed, and the semi-fatality skillets presented, and so forth, I zoned out and noticed Luke. The dark stubble on his jaw. Prominent veins that popped when he flexed his muscular forearms with his sleeves pushed up. How his chest rose in a steady, deep push against me when he sighed. His tanned skin bared above the collar of his shirt, flesh that seemed to entice me for a cuddle, reminding me of how I’d woken up.
Jesus, was I getting it bad. Hello there, lust.
We didn’t speak on the road since it was hard to communicate without yelling, which gave me too much time to stress and wonder what-ifs. After dusk, he pulled off the expressway and got us snagged in some nighttime traffic jam, likely from the construction everywhere we looked. Orange barrels stood sentry along the guard rails and we slowly made our way to the heart of a small town.
“We’ll find someplace cheap for the night.”
“I have cash.”
“It’s not the money,” he said over his shoulder as he cruised down a moderately busy strip of town. “We don’t want something too fancy that will require checking our IDs or filing a credit card deposit.”
Ah. I was so eager to sleep on a real mattress that I’d overlooked that.
“I’ll head in and scope it out. See if we could get a room on the down-low.”
I peered past him as he stood. I held the helmet on my lap and snorted. Everything about this place was low—with its inferior quality, at least. The roof missing shingles, the window shutters hanging lopsided, and the fading paint chipped and peeling off. Gravity and a creepy depression claimed this motel.
“You’ll be okay out here?” He eyed me and rubbed at his mouth. “I don’t want to leave the bike unattended.” His brow furrowed, he looked around the poorly maintained parking lot.
What did he plan to do at bedtime, then? Wheel the bike into our room?
I nodded. Made sense. One goes in and one stays with the ride. “Yeah. Go ahead.”
“You sure?”
Since we’d met, we hadn’t been separated. Except for when we’d eaten at the diner we’d stopped at earlier and had to go pee, we hadn’t been more than ten feet away from each other. His proximity gripped me in too many ways, but I’d be damned if he became a security blanket. I’d survived just fine before him.
But I’ve never been ambushed and almost strangled before, either.
I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. I rubbed at my neck.
And I’ve never met someone as…intriguing as him, either.
“Yes.” I shoved at his shoulder, the uninjured one. “Go on. Or do you not trust me with your precious bike?”
“Hell, you wouldn’t drive off with it. But…” Once more he surveyed our surroundings.
“Just go already.” Get it over with and hurry back.
“Back in a sec.”
I wanted to roll my eyes. Whether he was coddling because he assumed I was a fragile moron or he was honestly concerned and mindful of protecting me, I couldn’t guess. But the check-in lobby was maybe ten yards away. If trouble came, he’d hear me yell. I wasn’t totally helpless and naïve.
At least I didn’t think I was until three minutes later. I kept my attention on my surroundings with my peripheral vision as I checked my phone for anything new from Zero. There were two notifications. I tapped at the screen and froze at the roar of another motorcycle in the lot.
One roar that intensified into many, like a stampeding thunderstorm of engines revving. I looked up from my phone and schooled myself not to flinch or gasp. Freezing my face to remain as neutral as possible, I screamed in my head.
Just like that, I was surrounded by a goddamn herd of bikers. Most of them were younger, not the grizzled old men like in the MC clubs of some romances I’d read. All of them, however, wore their cuts and ringed me in a circle of black leather, silver chains, and unhappy glowers.
You’ve got to be kidding me. I fidgeted as most of the engines silenced. A couple of them remained idling, which freaked me out even more.
“You looking for something, little lady?”
One man rose from a behemoth of a motorcycle and strode toward me.
Just like— Oh, my God. Was it only last night that some man approached me with that same damn line? That street thug outside Rosa’s apartment. It felt like an eternity ago. Did I have some kind of a magnet that attracted leery men when I was out of my comfort zone?
“No.” I was sticking to the theory that the fewer words I spoke, I’d be firmer. Pride swelled at my steady and clear voice but I nearly trembled when he walked right up to Luke’s bike that I was leaning against and knocked his knuckles on the fender.
“Where you from?” he asked.
“Home.”
His lip curled, more in a snarl than a smile. Okay. Tone it down. Simple answers but no sass.
“You’re a long way from home, sweet thing,” another replied.
Oh, shit. So focused I was on the sweaty bearded guy invading my personal space, I’d missed out the fact that three of his buddies were circling in on their prey as well.
Still, I refused to scream for Luke. Like my call for help would be wise. I was outnumbered and blocked from the motel’s front lobby now.
“Just passing through.” Actually, we weren’t. We wanted to stay right where we were for the night.
“Hmm mmm.” An even taller, bearded hulk walled off my chance of escape on my other side, flanking me to the bike. “This your ride?”
Do not roll your eyes. I forced a small smile. “My boyfriend’s.”
“I don’t see no boyfriend ’round here.” The first biker chucked my chin and then ran his hand over my shoulder. Coarse, rough skin chilled me through my sleeve, and when he flicked his thumb at one of the marks on my neck, his eyes dilated. “You like it rough, huh?” he whispered that last bit and I clenched my fist, a scream ready at my throat, my knee tensed to dig into his groin.
“Then look again,” Luke said. Calmly. A deadly, cool confidence in his tone. He strode toward us, cutting his way through the line of bikers surrounding us. “Is he bothering you, baby?”
“There you are.” I couldn’t say I was bothered because it felt a little like I’d be declaring a war if I did. Luke and me against more than a dozen of huge and most likely armed men. Well, Luke had Michael’s knife in his pocket, but that wasn’t much.
I held my breath and only exhaled it in a shaky rush once he met me at my side. Wedging himself between the biker who’d touched me, he wrapped his arms around me in a possessive hug. Branded me. Marked me. Hands off, he’d declared with his move. I knew it was just to save me—again—but it hardly mattered. I slipped my hand down and gripped his, hanging on to him for dear life.
“You two planning on staying here?” the first biker asked.
Luke cocked his head to the side. “Isn’t that what a motel is for?”
The biker scoffed and crossed his arms, puffing his chest out. “Not this one. You see, this is the Hell’s Hornets MC turf.”
For the love of— I swallowed hard. We just had to stop at this exit… Like we could’ve known.
“Strangers like you ain’t welcome,” his comrade said.
“But if you’d like to share”—the first biker gripped my upper arm and tried to drag me from Luke—“we can too.”
“Think again, asshole,” Luke said darkly.
And that was when the biker next to him raised his fist to punch him.
Chapter Eight
Luke
I ducked and spun out of the man’s cheap shot, kicking him in the leg on the way. He fell to one knee and I held him in a chokehold with one arm. With my right hand, I reached out and pulled Cassidy back to me. God. The terror in her eyes. No, wait. Fury. She was angry. For me? Too bad we didn’t have a skillet with us.
“I said think again.”
I met the cold stare of the biker fuming in front of us. I’d handled plenty of the likes of him in prison. That wasn’t to say I’d get anywhere near cocky now and think I could take on a team of them singlehandedly.
And let them paw at Cassidy? Nope. No way that was going down.
“I don’t let nobody tell me what to think.” He pulled his arm back and my first fear was a gun. I shifted Cassidy behind me and the biker in my arm in front of us. Instead, the asshole retrieved a club.
Great. Still shitty odds. I was unarmed. Michael’s switchblade was in my pocket, but that was like bringing a twig to a swordfight. I released the biker and shoved him at the leader.
“All right, boys. Break it on up.”
I kept my gaze locked on my MC opponent as a new voice spoke up. Another male, but distinct with a tired, lazy tone. “Break. It. Up,” he drawled, a clap punctuating the quiet between each word.
“Officer Jonny.” The biker tucked his club back under his cut before the uniformed newcomer approached. “How’s Peyton’s finest member of the law doing tonight?”
“Ah, don’t start sugaring up to me, Hawk,” the offic
er replied.
Hawk? Jesus. I refused to snort. If they were picking club names, this one could have chosen Pot-bellied Hog instead.
Hawk grinned a mouthful of prematurely rotting teeth.
“Old Gladys at the front desk called up. Said you boys were harassing her customers out here.” Now the cop turned his eyes to me and Cassidy. In a critical but deceiving scrutiny, he sized us up. Another cop. Perfect. Cassidy’s fingers curled into the back of my shirt.
“Nah, nah. We ain’t harassing nobody, Officer,” another biker said.
“These two just seemed suspicious is all,” Hawk decided, narrowing his glare on me. “Just trying to keep our fine little community safe from strangers.”
“Well, y’all head on outta here, alrighty?” Officer Jonny, Fausnell—according to his badge nametag—waved at the men and faced me. Cassidy stepped out from behind me as the bikers began to disperse.
“Evening, sir.” I offered my hand to him, hoping being proactive with a polite greeting might help.
“Hmm mmm.” He shook my hand with a pansy-ass grip. Hell, Cassidy had more strength than this small-town dud. “Where y’all heading to?”
“Up north,” I said. The less details, the better. Sweat began to collect at the small of my back and I resisted the urge to rub my hand over my mouth. Between my time in jail and the catastrophic encounter with Michael, I’d never be comfortable around the law.
“Got any ID on y’all?”
Motherfucker.
“What for, Officer Fausnell?” Cassidy asked.
Goddammit. Not now, Cassie. Don’t get defensive now. Did she forget we were trying to hide? I squeezed her fingers.
He shrugged and rocked on the balls of his feet. Smug in his power. I wanted to scream. “’Cuz I can. And a’cuz of those.” He pointed at the still fading marks on her neck. “And the looks of him.”
I breathed as evenly as I could, despising his too-cool attitude and the way he’d already pegged me as the enemy. The healing cuts and bruises on my face couldn’t be helping matters. But, dammit, when would I ever be someone besides the bad guy? I hadn’t done a single thing wrong since leaving prison.
Seek: Project Xol Page 8
