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“Umm, I can go—” Maddie begins but I don’t give her the opportunity to finish her thought.
“I’m responsible for your protection, so you come with me.” I am dead serious, leaving her looking a little shell shocked as she stared into my eyes. She stares for a minute and then looks at Paul and the van.
“Meet you there, sis,” Paul says, being no help at all to her pleading face. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Allowing herself to be led away, Maddie finds herself in view of my Harley. “I’ve never been on a bike,” she says softly.
“Not a problem. All you have to do is hold on.” I climb on and direct her. “Take my hand.” Maddie looks at my hand and cautiously slides hers into mine. This is the first time I’ve had the opportunity to touch her and something as simple as our hands connecting sends an electrical current through me. I distract myself by checking to make sure her helmet is on safely. “You’re safe. I won’t go fast or try to freak you out, okay?””
“Okay.” She is still tense but lets out a small sigh.
“You need to hold on,” I instruct her.
“To what?” she asks as she lifts her shoulders in question.
I turn my head over my shoulder and smile. “To me. Wrap your arms around me.”
She hesitates, I take the liberty to tug gently on her arms and pull her closer, wrapping her arms around my waist. Now she is firmly nestled with her front to my back, our thighs melded together, her arms around my abs.
I fire up the bike. “Don’t let go, Kitten.” Easing into the ride, I take it slow for her sake.
Three
The Rehearsal
War
Regrettably, I feel Maddie’s hands release their grip from my waist. We reach the club, or more accurately, the tents set up along the field behind the club. I watch Maddie carefully. She removes the helmet and returns it to me politely, saying thank you. She then appears to take in the whole scene, watching the members and prospects bustling about getting things ready, though she doesn’t say a word.
I notice Paul backing up the van next to the stage. Maddie makes a move toward Paul and once again, I take her arm in my vice-like grip. “Maddie, you don’t move without me.” I look down at her stunned face. Her wide-eyed expression of confusion is adorably cute, makes me want to kiss her so badly. I hold back with great restraint.
“I need to go help unload,” she murmurs quietly. Her eyes move toward her band mates, ready to take off as soon as I let go. “We’re a team. We do this together,” she said more sternly.
Is she kidding? No way can she carry any of that equipment. Demon is standing near the tent and I call him over.
“Get some prospects to help unload and setup the band’s equipment. I’m taking Maddie to the tent. When the guys are ready, send someone over.” I look down at Maddie, still staring at me and looking a little irate at my taking over. “All set. Let’s get you out of view so these boys can focus on setup and not your pretty face.”
I tag her hand and lead her to the tent.
Catering to Maddie’s concern about security, Guard had this tent setup right next to the stage with everything the band might need available to them.
“Kitten, you ever going to say more than two words to me at a time?” I try to make conversation, get her to open up to me a little. This patience crap is difficult for me. I just want to let her know how this is going to go from now on. Tell her she will always be protected because I won’t have it any other way.
“What do you want me to say?” she asks carefully, looking up at me.
“Anything you want to ask me?” I smile. “You aren’t curious at all?”
“Why do they call you War?” Her voice is quiet and she tilts her head to the side as she asks. It’s a simple question but has a dramatic history I’d rather not divulge at this point. I want her to feel safe and secure around me, not want to run off.
“A while back, when we all settled here and made this our home, some rival clubs decided they were going to make our lives difficult. We held out and never backed down and I was put into some nasty situations—always came out ahead though. I would go to war for my brothers and told them that. When I got patched, Guard called me War.” I give the PG rated version of the story, and I still think I worry her. She’s biting her lower lip again. “My turn. Why do you hate the stage?”
“I didn’t know I had to answer questions.” She smiles shyly with a glint of daring and teasing in her tone.
I take in her smile, reveling in the change of demeanour. She almost looks relaxed.
“Fair is fair.” I say and smile back.
She lets out a sigh and turns away from me. “A few years back, someone stormed the stage. He had a knife and held it to my neck before forcing me to go with him. I can’t remember much more. I blocked stuff out. I do remember his voice and the threats of what he was going to do to me.” She’s visibly shaking.
