Page 184 of Two Weeks of Sin


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“Are you cracked in the head? Are you being serious right now? Do you HEAR yourself?” Gina yelled.

“Of course I do,” I murmured, rolling my eyes again. “Listen, I can’t go back my my mom and risk these guys following me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if my mom got hurt.” I said, with tears running down my face.

“Come with me,” Gina offered.

“Gina, the same applies to you!”

“You can’t live some weird outlaw life with bikers! Where are you anyway?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why the hell not?” Gina asked.

“Because you’ll call the cops. I’ll tell you eventually, but for now I’m okay, alright? Just accept it.”

“Whatever happened to the girl who hated bikers?”

I shrugged “I’m not sayig I’ve changed my mind entirely but Dylan says they are a vigilant gang, with a mission to help people. Do you remember Dylan? The hot biker guy that saved me at the bar? He’s the leader of this biker gang and the one I’m staying with.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Holy cow are you serious? That hottie with the nice ass?! Well I guess that’s the ONE good thing I can see in this insane situation. I don’t like it at all, but you’ve always had a good head on your shoulders and I know you can take care of yourself. Are you sure you aren’t being threatened or held at gunpoint or whatever?”

I sighed and stood up, holding the camera and circling the room. It was a fairly normal kitchen with good light and no one holding a gun. I circled slowly so that she could see the whole room before finally setting the phone down and putting my chin in my hand.

“See? No guns,” I assured.

She still seemed hesitant but nodded. “Alright. But if you need me, you call, okay? And answer my texts! Like, you need to check in with me.”

I smiled and nodded. “Of course I will. It’s just been a bit of a wild ride,” I murmured.

“Understood. Keep me in the loop, okay? I don’t want to be worrying about you.”

“Alright.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I hit END and stared at the phone, already missing my best friend.

Chapter Twelve

I was still a bit nervous to find myself living with a bunch of bikers. I didn’t trust them as much as they seemed to want me to, but I was getting there. It was hard to override such a primal fear that I’d always had. Although, admittedly, my views were slowly being challenged as I got to know Dylan more and more.

A softer, more gentle side of Dylan was being revealed to me. It was almost as if he kept his true nature hidden before. It seemed a natural thing to do for someone in his position. Dylan was now kind to me. He encouraged me to go around and meet the other people in the community, though I suspected that was to get me to admit and realize that maybe bikers weren’t as bad as I thought. I c

ouldn’t blame him for wanting to try and show me the good things his community was doing. I owed him that much for taking me in.

I sighed and threw a pat of butter into a skillet, putting a hand on my hip as I watched it melt. I’d just come back from a long walk and my stomach was gurgling very loudly, begging me for food. I couldn’t, in good conscious, tell it no. I was thankful that Dylan’s house always seemed to be stocked with food. At least I wasn’t going to go hungry any time soon.

Dylan poked his head into the kitchen from the living room, his hair brushed back out of his piercing eyes. His face seemed softer than it ever had.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Making food,” I said, flipping the sandwich.

“You got a minute?”

“I guess so. What do you need?” I asked, wiping my hands on the kitchen towel.

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