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“Are you sure I can’t just go with you?”
“My bike’s a single seater, hon.” Her brow peaks. “You know that.”
Yeah, I do.But I also know the whole scenario sets my already frayed nerves further on edge. What if I do something wrong? Break some code of theirs I didn’t know existed?
“Come on.” Maddie grabs my arm, hauling me to my feet. “The longer we’re here, the worse it’ll get.” I barely have time to snag my work bag before I’m dragged toward the exit. “Don’t look at him.” She holds the door, using the reflection in the glass to check Connor’s position while I stall.
The rumble of the bike is deafening without the obstruction of the glass.
“Has he got up?” My hands shake as I cross the threshold and sling the straps of my backpack over my shoulders.
“Nope.” She body-blocks me while I walk to the bikes, heartbeat a living, breathing entity in the tips of my extremities. I square my focus on the man towering before the machines. Broad shoulders capped in crimson plaid lead to thick upper arms, his sleeves rolled up on the forearm, exposing tanned, tattooed flesh.
Digger turns his head, giving Maddie a tight nod before he takes a step forward. I glance at the mirror tint and catch the reflection of my approaching ex.Liar.Maddie unhitches the spare helmet from the growling machine, ignoring my frown. “He got up, didn’t he?” My words almost die beneath the ruckus from the engine.
“If I’d told you,” she semi-shouts, “you would have run back inside.” She glances over her shoulder. “Get this on. Weston will hold him off.”
“Maddie…” I tip the helmet how I’ve seen her do.
She sighs, moving my thumbs to hold the straps out of the way. “Chin down, pulling it down over your crown. Adjust it once it’s on.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve twenty of me,” she states. “Now come on.” She steps away to retrieve her helmet before I can say anything else.
I glance toward the imminent trouble before doing as she instructs, managing to avoid smooshing my face too much. The rumble of the bike is softened within the confines of the helmet.
“Who invited you here?” Connor spouts at Maddie’s uncle, stopping a few feet short of the man. He shifts his glare off the biker to where I stand, lips kicking up on one side. “Hey, baby.”
Once upon a time, that smirk made me weak in the knees with lust. The reaction elicits a whole other emotion now.
I fumble with the straps, Maddie unable to help as she throws a leg over her bike and thrusts the kickstart down. Fucking eyeballs in the ends of my fingers would be useful, but I guess this becomes second nature after a while. Pity I’m not at that stage yet.
Weston—or Digger—glances over his shoulder at my predicament. I shake my head, simultaneously marveling at how expressive the man can be while his face is hidden behind a strip of mirrored Perspex. His shoulders drop the slightest amount, and he turns to come to my aide.
Connor makes a move to get closer, using the distraction to his advantage. “You seriously going to let these fuckers take you home, Rae?” He hollers to be heard over the idling machines. “You think they can keep you safer than I can?”
I fucking know so.
Digger stalls before me, visor reflecting my wide-eyed panic before twisting back to face Connor. He thrusts his arm out, halting the spoilt crime lord’s son with a palm to the center of his chest.“She’s not yours to boss around anymore.”The threat rumbles from beneath the obstruction of the helmet. His hand curls into a fist, and he uses it to shove Connor backward.“Best you realize that and leave her the fuck alone.”
“She’s more mine than yours, you shit-stirring cunt.”
Digger ignores the retort, yet his body stiffens as large hands come beneath my chin to buckle the straps in seconds. He hooksa finger through, warm skin brushing mine, and gives the helmet a jerk.
“You can’t keep running,” Connor hollers. “Doesn’t matter where you go, he’ll fucking find you.” His nose twitches. “I’llfind you.”
The blacked-out helmet lifts to regard me face-to-face. A beat passes before his forefinger touches the underside of my chin, reassuring. A single pat of Digger’s hand on the bike tells me to get on.
“You want to die, Rae?” Connor asks as though surprised I could be so stupid. “You run from me, and I’ll?—”
“What?”Frenzied hands wrench at the clasp before Digger removes his helmet. “What will you do, exactly?”He drops the obstruction to his side and shakes his head out as though irritated by the restriction. Dusty blonde hair tumbles across his brow into his eyes.
Maddie shakes her head and kicks up her stand.
My hands tremble, useless at my sides, while I drink in the man facing down my ex-asshole. Easily over six feet tall, he cuts an imposing enough frame in black denim, cotton, and leather. But it’s not the screaming skull on his back or the interwoven ink on his hands, arms, and neck that spell trouble. It’s the hint of madness in his eye as he glances back to check on us girls.
“Get on home,” he instructs Maddie. “I won’t be far behind.”
