by Romi Hart
Corey’s heart pounded, and he refused to look away from her. What was she trying to tell him? Was this it, the moment she chose him over a life on the road? In a low voice, one he meant to be soothing and not to rock her in any way, he told her, “You can still be happy here, Regan. If you don’t want to leave, you shouldn’t. We can protect you, and we can make sure that David is never a problem again.”
She didn’t move, didn’t turn her head to look at him, didn’t speak. But after what seemed like hours, she slowly pulled her fingers back from his and cast her eyes down toward her lap, where she was wringing her hands together. “I wish I could do that, Corey. I really do, and I don’t think you know how much I wish that was my path to follow. There are…things that I would stay for, in a heartbeat, if I could.”
“But you can’t.” The air went out of him, and he felt like his chest collapsed. His spine bowed, and his shoulders fell. He finally turned away, unable to look at her anymore.
“I told you, Corey, it’s not about you. It’s about the constant threat. And the need to be under a watchful eye. I can’t live knowing that other people are constantly on the lookout for the ghosts that haunt me. I can do that part on my own and worry a little less if I go somewhere that no one knows anything about me.”
He should have argued, but he didn’t. Someday, he’d make that son of a bitch pay, and when he did, Regan would eventually get word of it. At least, she would know that David was no longer a threat. And then, perhaps, if she cared about him, she’d come back here, and Corey could see what happiness really was.
“I’m going to take you home,” he told her.
“My car…” But she trailed off as he shook his head and stood, gazing up at him with an expression full of confusion.
“I’ll take your keys, and I’ll have one of the boy deliver it to you tonight. It’ll be gassed up and ready to go first thing tomorrow.” He smiled at her, the sadness making sure it didn’t reach his eyes.
“You don’t have to do that.” She stood, and he stepped closer to her, grazing his lips over hers in a whisper of a kiss. “Yes, I do. I told you, I’m making you my responsibility till the moment you leave this town, and I’m still going to make sure the bastard isn’t hot on your tail.”
She suddenly and with passion threw her arms around him, squeezing tight, and Corey reveled in it, enveloped in her smell, her warmth, and the feel of her heart beating against his chest. She was soft, her breasts pressed to him, but she was also strong and hard, something he loved about her. He couldn’t break her physically, no matter how rough they got making love, and that was as much a plus as her tender, calming mannerisms.
When she backed away, he thought he saw a tear in her eye, but she blinked quickly, and he didn’t know if he’d imagined it or what. “Thank you, Corey. You really are a worthy captain of your clan.” She reached out and grabbed the helmet, pulling it over her head. “You want to help strap me in one more time?”
He shrugged and nodded, finding it difficult to breathe as emotion swelled and ignited within him. “Sure. Come here, gorgeous.” He hooked the strap and tightened in. “I’ve never known another woman who looked so damn good in one of these things.”
She smiled brightly, gifting him with one more of those infections beams. “Well, maybe in a couple of years, I’ll get a motorcycle of my own. If I look this good in a helmet, maybe I was born to ride.”
Corey wasn’t going to argue that point. He was starting to think she was right. Except that she was born to ride with him, keeping the seat behind him warm. He could almost guarantee that he wouldn’t have another woman on the back of Shawna, ever again. Regan’s ghost would have that seat, and he’d treasure that, especially on the bad days.
And there would be plenty of those to come, with her gone.
16
The empty apartment didn’t do anything to soothe the pain in Regan’s chest. It ached so badly she thought she might be having a heart attack, that she should call 9-1-1 and go to the hospital. And at the same time, she just wanted to die.
Tomorrow, when she left town, she’d leave enough of herself behind that she might very well be dead inside anyway.
Saying goodbye to Corey was the hardest thing she’d ever done, and she couldn’t think of anything that would ever surpass it. Her hands shook, and as she looked around, checking drawers and cabinets to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, she realized it wasn’t just her hands. Her whole body shivered and was near convulsions.
She sat down on the couch, which she was leaving behind, and felt the tears welling in her eyes. This time, she couldn’t stop them, and they rained down her cheeks, her chest heaving as whimpers and sobs escaped her mouth. She swiped at them, but it was like trying to erase a waterfall with a washrag.
She went to the kitchen to pour a drink, hoping it would calm her, but she had already packed the glasses. She would have gulped from the bottle of vodka, but she couldn’t even grab it, as hard as she shook. Angry at herself for letting her emotions get the best of her, she wanted to rage around the place. But there was nothing to break, tear, or destroy. She’d been very efficient, and the movers would probably have everything out of here in fifteen minutes tomorrow.
That just angered her further. Why couldn’t she just be okay with this? Why was it so hard to think of never seeing Corey again? With David, it was all she wanted. She wanted him to disappear and still questioned why she couldn’t handle the thought of Corey and his club making that happen. Was she afraid of what would happen to Corey if he got caught? Or was it the monstrous deed he would have done that would cause a rift between them?
She considered the deed he’d done today. It didn’t bother her at all. The man he’d had to skin could have cost the lives of dozens, if not hundreds, of men. He got what he deserved, and while she wished Corey hadn’t had to experience that horror, hadn’t had to be the hand with the blade, she though the punishment was well deserved.
Even more poignant, she didn’t see Corey any differently. In fact, if anything, she saw him as a stronger man for getting through it and a more compassionate person for how much it bothered him that he’d had to.
No, if he killed David, it wouldn’t be the fact that he’d murdered someone that caused an issue for Regan. So, what kept her from giving him the green light? Was it pride, the need to take care of herself? She hadn’t thought so, but it was a pattern. She’d ran away from David in the first place, rather than asking for help. And why? Because she was too proud to admit to the abuse, and because she was scared to go it alone.
And if she trusted in fate the way she had all this time, she was fated to do that so she could eventually meet Corey. And Corey was basically the closest thing she could imagine to the love of her life.
But fate stepped in again and brought David back, so maybe that was just a lucky stop along the way. It seemed that David was her fate, in one way or another, and that he was a driving force in what happened to her. So, she couldn’t put her hope of destiny to be with Corey as a mark on the timeline. Maybe she would meet someone else, or maybe she would be alone. But no matter what, she had to save herself. And in the process, she would perhaps save Corey from making a mistake and getting locked up.
Yes, she told herself. That was why she had to leave. But even as she thought it, she could picture herself on the beach, having a picnic with Corey, a little one running around in the sand and a protruding stomach, filled with another spawn of his. They shared grapes, or maybe Chinese food.
She shook her head, crying again as she dropped down on the couch, letting it all take hold and letting the ache overwhelm her. She didn’t deserve Corey. She’d likely broken his heart, even if she’d tried not to. He had so easily walked away before, and while he hadn’t begged her to stay tonight, he’d made every promise he could to try to get her to stay.
Could she take him up on his offers? Could she stay with him, or in his place, or at the clubhouse, until David went to jail? Could she change h
er mind, call the moving company, and cancel their trip here? It would cost a small deposit, but they would leave her things here. She could unpack them, or she could store them.
No! That was weak, and she was strong. She could and would take care of herself, and she refused to have regrets. She searched her soul for that free spirit, looking for the part of her that would rejoice at having had such a great experience with Corey and be able to move on with joy.
Where was it?
It almost seemed as though that free spirit had escaped, and another piece of her, one she’d ignored since she left David, had taken over. It was the part of her that longed for closure, monotony, and roots. She’d almost put those down here, had felt them start to grow. Luckily, they hadn’t quite taken hold, and she could pull herself away. But it was obviously harder than she’d expected, and she knew it was because she’d let that domestic part of her being have a say in what came next.
With a heavy heart, Regan laid back, wondering if she should have invited Corey to stay tonight, begging for one last time and one more set of memories to keep for those times when she was lonely and needed to remind herself of the feel of his hands on her. But wouldn’t that have been torture? A reminder of all she was leaving behind? And how was it fair to Corey? She would have been using him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
She curled in on herself, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them as she tilted to the side, almost in a fetal position as she rested her head on the arm of the furniture. She stared at nothing, playing out the last couple of months in her head and what she could have done differently to avoid these emotions and how out of control they had gotten.
But she came up empty and, slowly, her body relaxed, her breathing slowed and evened, and she drifted off to sleep. But her dreams were torturous, and she awoke quickly, escaping the horrors of the nightmares in which David made her watch as he killed Corey and then came for her. She jerked awake with the first blow, and as she sat up, panting with the fear instilled in her by the dream, she could almost feel the bruising blow on her face.
She touched her cheek and felt the wet of tears she hadn’t realized she was crying, and she knew she couldn’t go back to sleep. She had half a mind to pack up the car and leave right away, rather than waiting until morning. But she peered out the peep hole in the door at the dark night, reminding herself it was a new moon, and the clouds made it even darker, more ominous. No, she would wait for daylight, when she wasn’t so spooked.
Maybe the light of day would also help her feel fewer regrets, brighten her outlook on this new adventure. That’s how she’d viewed these last few years. Rather than seeing it as running away, she’d told herself she was embarking on new adventures, learning about new people and places.
And while she didn’t sleep that thought helped her relax and rest with a book until dawn.
When the sun first peered through the windows, Regan closed the book, stuffed it in one of the few bags that would go with her in the car, and headed to the bathroom to shower. She needed to wash off the negativity, and what better way to symbolize a clean start than with a clean body?
As she finished with each toiletry, she packed them one by one into a duffel bag and then zipped it shut, tossing her dirty clothes in a plastic grocery bag and adding it to the duffel. She pulled on the single set of clean clothes she’d unpacked to wear today, combed her fingers through her hair, and stared at her fresh face in the mirror, sans makeup. She ignored the dark circles under her eyes that gave her a haunted look and focused on the fact that her skin was smooth and bright.
With one last look around, she reached for the bags she’d piled by the door, the ones that would go with her and not the moving company, and she loaded up her arms. She wouldn’t make a second trip up. She had them all in hand and would get them all in the car without glancing back. She felt like gazing back over her shoulder was bad luck, and she avoided it every time she moved.
She searched for signs of her assigned guard, just as Mike sauntered over, his youthful cockiness in his step but today not written in his expression. “So, this is it,” he said quietly as he approached. “You sure you don’t want to think it over again?”
She raised a brow at him. “Did Corey tell you to ask?”
He shook his head. “No, you just look a little reluctant.” As he spoke, he started taking bags from her and slinging them into the car. “And honestly, I like this assignment. I don’t want to move on.”
Regan had to laugh. “I figured you’d be bored and grateful to go back to something more exciting.”
He grunted and shook his head. “I’ll probably end up back at Skye’s club, working security. It’s boring. Nothing ever happens, and it’s not like I’m inside with a good view. I work the parking lot, where nothing ever happens. It’s too classy.”
With a burst of amusement, Regan threw her head back. “Oh, Mike, you crack me up. Well, I wish you the best, and I hope you get an exciting, gritty assignment after I leave.” She hugged him and was surprised with how open he was to the gesture. Maybe Corey wasn’t the only soft hearted biker under the façade.
“I’ll follow you out of town, probably about ten minutes, make sure no one’s following, and then I’ll turn back,” he told her. “Take care of you, okay? And if you get a chance, come back to visit.”
She nodded, ignoring the prickling in her eyes. She wouldn’t get sentimental. She had to get out of here without crashing, and watery eyes wouldn’t help that endeavor. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she let Mike close the door and watched as he pulled on his sunglasses and straddled his bike.
Ten minutes later, she was on the highway, headed north. She’d go through Oklahoma and into Kansas, and then she’d cut across to Utah through Colorado. It was the long way, and she’d have to make an overnight stop, but it was scenic and would avoid the narrow pass through New Mexico. It wasn’t that the mountain pass was dangerous, but it was out of cell range, and she didn’t want to be stuck up there, with even the most remote possibility that David could be on her tail.
She watched in her rearview mirror, noting that Mike stayed there, at a distance, obviously watching to see if another car seemed to be following. But about ten exits outside of town, he waved and disappeared down the off ramp. Suddenly, Regan felt very lonely, and she turned up the volume on her playlist, belting out the lyrics herself and trying to lighten her mood.
She reached for her purse, wanting a mint, and she pulled out the extra set of keys she was supposed to have left behind for the movers, who would in turn, leave them for the landlord. Cursing herself for her mistake, she maneuvered off the highway and turned around. Surely, if no one had been following her before, no one was going to follow her if she made the quick trip back and dropped off the keys.
There was a backup and an accident, and Regan grew frustrated as she crawled along the highway, back toward her apartment. She’d felt good, as if she’d made a fairly clean break and exit, and this might be a setback, if she couldn’t get it taken care of quickly. But because of the circumstances, what had taken fifteen minutes in the opposite direction took double now, and it was half an hour before she turned down the street toward the place she’d left behind less than an hour ago.
She didn’t park directly in front of her apartment, wanting to leave the space open for the movers, and she hurried up the stairs, thinking the faster she finished this ridiculous task, the faster she could be back on her way. And she’d started to feel the muscles that were tense now ease as she’d left town, so the sooner she could be on the road, the quicker she could relax.
The hair on the back of her neck stood as she climbed the stairs to her place, as if someone was watching her. But Regan knew that was ridiculous. She’d had someone watching her for days now, following her every move, and she’d never had that sensation before. She was just paranoid because this was the first time in days that there hadn’t been someone watching her. And that made her fe
el like there was danger lurking around every corner.
She stopped on the stoop and stood, her hand trembling with the key in it as if she feared what she’d find inside. And that was crazy. She’d left it locked, and she was the only one with a key, since she’d run off with this one and the other one was locked inside. And the movers weren’t even here. She was alone.
But just to make sure, she took a quick glance around outside for anything suspicious or out of place before unlocking the door. The only thing she found, though, was that Mike wasn’t there. No one was there to look after her. And that was good, right? Wasn’t that what she wanted, to take care of herself?
Squaring her shoulders, she forced the key in the lock, turned it, and shoved the door open hard, like she could knock back anyone inside.
She blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding as she gazed into the empty space. Everything was as she’d left it, not a spec of dust having moved or blown around. Relieved, she took the key to the front door off the ring, placing it carefully atop the outside part of the doorframe, where the movers could grab it to unlock the place.
She started to leave but glanced at the bottles of liquor she’d left in an open box on the counter. Thinking better of it, she decided those should go with her. She would just have to place the box carefully in her trunk, where she couldn’t be accused of driving with an open container.
She’d left a note for the movers to help themselves to anything left in the fridge, not wanting anything to go to waste, but her stomach growled, and she didn’t feel like stopping for fast food with the time she’d already lost. So, she reached in and grabbed the fixings for a sandwich, tossing them together quickly and adding an apple to her take for good measure. That should keep her going for a couple of hours, at least. Across state lines for sure.
With renewed determination, she reached for a plastic grocery bag and wrapped her sandwich and apple, dropping them into the box and hoisting the cardboard in her arms with a grunt. She braced it against the wall as she opened the door and locked it from the inside, and then she set it on the ground outside to close everything behind her.
