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“I didn’t say that.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I admitted.
“Exactly.”
Asshole. “Fine, I’ll play along. Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer, packing what few belongings were scattered about the room, and grabbing my left arm as we approached the door. I eyed the bathroom with longing, already regretting the lack of a hot shower in the near future.
The biker paused, dropping everything as he pulled out a big, long-sleeved shirt in heavy denim from his bag. I was immediately dressed like a fucking Barbie as he shoved my arms inside and buttoned it up, placing my heavy winter jacket over the top until I looked like that kid on the Christmas movie. You know the one – where the kid gets the BB Gun, but the little brother is dressed up like a tick about to pop. Yeah, that was me. I could feel the sweat beginning to gather on my lower back. In case anyone asked, puffy was not pretty.
“You won’t look so disgusted when the icy Nevada winds are whipping around us on my bike.”
I didn’t argue. He was probably right.
“Braid your hair. Now.”
“Bossy,” I muttered, quickly taking the heavy strands and plaiting them, knowing I didn’t have anything to secure the end with when I looked up and caught the rubber band stained in motor oil he held out in his meaty fist. “Whatever.” I quickly secured the end in a few loops and tossed the braid over my shoulder. “Happy now, Mr. Dictator?”
Yeah, I was being sassy. And I didn’t care.
“Watch that pretty little mouth or I’ll put it to better use.” His smile wasn’t a leer or even heavily laced with lust. I’d say he looked menacing and decidedly predatory. Almost like he hoped I would give him an excuse.
What the hell did I get myself into this time? Trish would never let me hear the end of it.
My smile faded as I turned away and locked my jaw, closing off my emotions. I didn’t know this man. He didn’t know me. All I could do was hope that he would take me back to his prez and I could negotiate for a phone call and a day or two of rest before I met up with Trish. She wouldn’t leave me behind. There had to be some kind of explanation for taking her bag.
Maybe she sensed the danger and planned to come to my place later tonight.
Only I wouldn’t be home.
“Let’s move.”
The freezing wind blew into my face as we approached his bike. He mumbled under his breath, mild expletives leaving his mouth as he kept glancing in my direction. A skull print bandana was lifted over his nose and mouth so I couldn’t make out his features clearly. The biker yanked another from his back pocket and tied it around my neck, filling in the gap from the collar of my coat and the helmet he placed over my head. He gestured to the bike and then hopped on, daring me to refuse to climb on behind him.
It wasn’t my first time on a motorcycle, and I lifted my chin as I sat on the bike and loosely wrapped my hands around his waist. With a grumble of frustration that must have been loud because I heard him clearly, he yanked my hands closer together and I knew what he was saying. I had to hold on tighter, especially in this weather.
The ride seemed to drag on forever. Soaked through from the snow and sleet, my clothing was stiff and unforgiving, chafing against my skin and rubbing it raw in multiple places. The pain was secondary to the cold that was bone deep and chased away any memory of warmth. I was beyond the point of shivering. I stopped reacting to the cold long ago and that worried me. My body was locked in this position, rigid and uncomfortable.
I felt my hands slipping often now. Every few minutes they would start sliding down his torso and my eyes would flutter, fatigue settling in as I fought the urge to sleep. Any body heat he initially provided had disappeared. I heard a few grunts and loud curses as he held onto my hands and placed them back in place. Soon it wouldn’t matter. I’d fall off and any hope of ending this ride from Hell would no longer matter.
A few minutes later we left the highway as the familiar streetlamps and roads of Tonopah came into view. We’d made it. I could hold on. Just a few more minutes.
The biker didn’t say a word as he pulled into a parking lot and stopped, cutting the engine off. One muscled thigh swung over as he stood, turning my way quickly. I didn’t have the energy to argue when he pulled me upward and I fell into his chest. My legs felt like they were made of jelly.
The helmet was removed as his piercing eyes roamed my face. “You alright? Can you walk?”
Nodding, I pushed off his chest, standing to my full height as I wobbled. “I, I think so.”
He didn’t seem convinced. “I can carry you.”
Right. Like that was going to happen. Setting my jaw, I shook my head. “No. I’m fine.”
This time he smiled slowly, raking his gaze over me once before taking my hand and walking quickly inside. Loud rock music and multiple conversations ceased as we stepped through. His hand tightened on mine briefly and squeezed. I was almost tempted to pull away, but his strength was the only thing keeping me upright as I winced in pain. If I didn’t get out of these clothes soon, I’d be raw from head to toe.
I felt every set of eyes in the room settle on the big man at my side. He pulled the bandana down and smirked, ticking his head toward a few bikers gathered around the bar. A few shouts and jokes could be heard around the room. He must have been gone for a lengthy amount of time because people approached, many of them clapping him on the back and giving him shit.
The biker released my hand as he accepted a shot of liquor and I looked around the room, noticing the bar, multiple pool tables, leather couches, and big screen televisions anchored to the wall around the perimeter of the room. It was a warm and comfortable space, surprising considering the plain exterior of the building.
