Page 23 of Diary of a Biker Queen

Clearly, he hadn’t either, but we’d gotten used to running like this in prison, side by side, our feet and breaths in time. On the inside, this had been the only thing I’d had to regulate my nervous system. I’d fed off his slow, steady heartbeat to force mine into a mirror pattern.

We ran until neither of us could breathe properly and I had a stitch up my side.

And yet the urge to go and find someone to sink a blade into was still as strong as it had been when we’d started.

“It’s not working, is it?” Reaper pulled up, leaning against a tree while he sucked in deep breaths.

I shook my head. “I think I need one of your Murder Squad meetings.”

Reaper nodded, but he made a face at the same time. “I’ll call the others in. But for the love of all things holy, please don’t call it that in front of X. He’s already threatened to have T-shirts made up.”

I forced a smile for him because I knew that’s what he expected. But I didn’t feel it inside. Inside, I was a mess of violent images, dark shapes, and barely controlled desire.

Reaper straightened, his hands on his hips. “I need a shower before they get here. You going to be okay for ten minutes?”

I hated this. Hated needing a fucking babysitter. It occurred to me this must have been how Nyah felt, having me stand outside her bedroom door and follow her around everywhere.

It was suffocating, and I’d barely even started. I waved a hand at him. “Go. I’m not going to murder anyone while I’m behind these gates.”

Reaper looked like he didn’t quite believe me.

That was fucking insulting. “I’m not! I have that much self-control.”

At least while I was awake and not reliving it all in my nightmares.

Reaper gave me a tight nod and jogged back into the clubhouse. I breathed in the fresh morning air. I didn’t know how to meditate, but I squeezed my eyes shut anyway and tried to force my brain to go blank.

All I saw was blood.

All I felt was a desire to spill more.

“Yeah, okay, not doing that again.” I opened my eyes so fast.

“What aren’t you doing again?”

I turned to see Amber, one of the club girls who lived here, strolling out in her workout gear.

“Uh, nothing.” I shrugged, the heat of embarrassment rising into my cheeks. “I was trying to meditate. It didn’t go well.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What on earth for?”

I tapped the side of my head. “My brain is a bit messed up right now.”

She nodded knowingly. “Ah. Triggered serial killer. I heard.”

I screwed up my face again. “Does everyone know?”

She folded her arms across her chest, eyeing me. “If you were War, wouldn’t you want everyone to know? We aren’t supposed to be alone with you.”

That felt like shit. It was smart, of course, but I didn’t want to be a man people feared.

Only Amber really didn’t seem all that concerned. Which was concerning in itself. I squinted at her in the early morning sunlight. “Why are you out here alone with me then?”

She unfolded her arms and pulled one up over her head to stretch out her triceps. “Because some of us work out at this time of the day. And because I’m really not afraid of you.”

She couldn’t see inside my head. “You probably should be.”

She laughed and switched arms. “Have you met the guys in Grayson’s Murder Squad? Or Hawk or War or Fang? Any of the men behind these fences could snap my neck at a second’s notice. And none of you would even be half as scary as the men I knew before I came here.”