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There was something about her.
Sweet but strong.
I loved fighters, but I liked a woman to be a woman too.
Figured that was my insecurities at work though.
MaryCat was quick to smile, even though her situation wasn’t the best, and her features were expressive enough that I knew she’d look fucking beautiful as she climaxed.
Scratching my chin at the thought, I twisted away to limp over to my hog. Clambering onto it with less grace than usual, and though I kept an eye on the situation with the cops and the ambulance, mostly, I watched her.
She was easy to watch.
Graceful, elegant, even in a pair of jeans and an old leather jacket and hoodie of mine that were about five sizes too large.
She didn’t fit in around here, I thought.
Maybe at the gas station on the other side of town that served the rich assfucks who went to the country clubs around these parts, but not here.
This was regular.
Mary Catherine was not regular.
I pursed my lips, wondering ifMaryCatcould be.
8
MARYCAT
The next time we stopped,I was going to down the whole bottle of acetaminophen I’d bought Digger back in West Orange.
Sweet. Lord. On. A. Cracker. With. Peanut. Butter.
Ouch.
Just, ouch.
This hurt worse than the time my father had hit me and I’d fallen down the stairs, which was insane. I’d busted up a couple of ribs and couldn’t go to school for a week without it looking like I was favoring my right side.Thatwas real pain, but this was gnawing. I could feel the bike’s vibrations in my soul.
Yeah, mysoul.
My organs were becoming ingredients in a smoothie and my ass, my fuckingass,it wasn’t going to survive. That was going to go first. I knew it.
And the cold? It was biting. It had jagged teeth with rabid drool, and where the pain from sitting like this for hours on end didn’t reach, the cold did.
Talk about a one-two punch to the face.
The worst thing was I couldn’t whine at him, not only because we were on a bike and the wind whistling past us was louder than a rock concert, but also because he was doing me a favor.
A massive favor.
Marriage might not mean a lot to some people, but there was a reason most men avoided it like it was the plague. Yet here he was, throwing himself into the fire for me. Making a sacrifice that I wasn’t worthy of.
I wondered if that was a part of his nature though.
He’d thought nothing of going after that mugger earlier. Had thought nothing of dragging him back and handing the guy over to the cops while returning the purse to a woman he clearly respected from school.
When I’d called his name as I saw it go down, I didn’t even know what I expected. It wasn’t on him to chase after the guy. It wasn’t on him to hobble back, dragging him alongside as if the guy were a dead saber-toothed tiger and he was a caveman bringing home the goods to his cavewoman.
