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“Yes,” she presses. “When you told me who the guy was who’d taken you out, I could have put a stop to it right there and then. But I’m no better, dating the wrong guys and coming out the other side okay, so I figured you’d be okay too. I just didn’t think about the influence his father would have.”
“You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”
“Then why do you think you could have?” she drills.
Fuck her.She’s right. Maybe Connor had a red flag for his family, avoiding me meeting his father as best he could. But how was I to know his old man was set to commit murder?
Right in front of my eyes.
“I guess.”
“Get up. Get what you goddamn need for a few nights. We’re havin’ a sleepover.”
I smile a little. “A sleepover?”
“Just be prepared to shove some handsy asshole off if he thinks you’re a new property girl.”
“A what?”
“A club whore, babe. Something to fuck around with.” She waits long enough to register my apprehensive silence before chuckling and adding, “I’m fuckin’ with you. Sort of. You’ll be in my room. They can’t reach you there.”
“Gee. Thanks.” I snatch up my work backpack and zip it closed, reminding myself a room full of self-entitled men is still safer than being alone and at Connor’s mercy. “I’m packing my shit now. Are you on your way soon?”
She jangles keys down the line. “Already headed for the door.” As though to prove the legitimacy of her words, the rumble of a bike starts. “See you in a bit.”
A little overfifteen minutes go past before I hear the approach of a thunderstorm, two bikes gunning up the street toward the little room I rent. I peek out the window, and sure enough, the guy parked across the street rises to his feet, facing the direction of the noise. He reaches for his open-face helmet and prepares to put it on as Tyke’s blacked-out bike leads Maddie down the street.
I’m mesmerized, captivated by the sheer power that the men hold by being nothing other than themselves. Their image is as much built by the prejudice of the community as it is by the club’s actions, but there’s a certain respect that follows their leather vests wherever they go.
People know they do wrong, and yet, they seem happy to let the Red River Reapers MC operate without disturbance. A necessary evil. Bad people fighting even worse.
Maddie dismounts her bike, holster clear as day strapped to her body beneath the open jacket. She checks both ways before darting across the street toward my external stairs. I sweep my gaze over her dad again, Tyke in conversation with my sentry, still seated on his bike, arms folded high on his chest. He’s removed his helmet, black fabric hiding his mouth and nose, wavy dark hair tousled and free, falling across his brow. Even from across the street, his hard gaze coils my stomach, my instincts on alert and ready to respond.
I take a deep breath, quelling the rising panic, and head for the door, checking I have everything I need as I go.
I hate being rescued. I never wanted to be the princess in the story. I wanted to be Maddie—the badass girl who kicks asses and takes names. But I guess we can’t always pick our originstory. Mine just happened to be shit enough to land me where I am now.
Insecure, afraid, and frustrated.
I skip downstairs, heading Maddie off before she needs to come up and knock. “Look at you,” she teases. “Eager beaver.”
“Change is as good as a holiday, right?” I don’t tell her I crave the security of her family already. The protection of men in black. “Did you see Connor on your way in?”
“A couple of blocks back.” She rolls her eyes. “God loves a trier, right?”
“I think even God couldn’t love him.” I accept the helmet she passes over. “Thanks again. For all of this.”
Her eye twitches as she registers the shame in my words. “Thank me when it’s done.”
I fuss with the straps of the helmet, flicking them over the padding and out of the way as I follow her to where her dad and her bike await. The dark-haired menace who’d watched my place turns his head as I approach, stopping Tyke mid-sentence to do the same.
My body flames under their scrutiny.
“Rae,” Tyke calls, gaze dropping the length of my body as I cross the road. “This is Graves.”
“Ma’am.” He smiles, but it seems unnatural for the guy. I can’t tell if he’s pissed off at me or life in general.
“Thanks.” I give him a nod. “Appreciate the help.”
