AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I had never been on the back of a motorcycle before.
There was no way I was going to tell Killian that, especially after telling me I didn’t really have a choice. Callie had asked me to do some recon at the local bar, but Killian had shown up half way into my sleuthing attempts and demanded I go with him. Saying my best friend had been picked up by Wes, and I needed to be kept safe until further notice.
I put up a fight, but in the end, I crawled on to the back of his bike and hung on tight, but now, as he took a tight curve, I withheld a scream.
This was terrifying, but I also sort of loved the thrill.
The wind blew the hair not trapped by the helmet away from my face, and there was something so soothing about that with how humid and hot the air was. I also loved that when I hugged him tighter, he seemed to go faster.
I was smiling against his back, and I knew we’d fall back into our roles of bickering and fighting when he parked, but I was enjoying this peace for as long as I could. I felt free and alive and like that picture I had seen in the club house. If I could let go of Killian’s waist and throw my arms wide, I would.
Killian pulled off on a small road and slowed his speed considerably. I lifted my head, looking around. There were large trees spaced out along a vast property that had dying grass planted in patches. A small house sat in the middle of the property: it was old and weathered with chipped white paint and a few broken windows.
When he parked off to the side of the house, there was a detached garage with an old brown station wagon parked inside.
He set his feet down and unbuckled his helmet before turning his head.
“Watch the exhaust, you’ll burn the fuck out of your leg.”
I peered down, cautious with how I hopped off the bike. I ignored how he muffled a small laugh at my theatrics.
“What is this place, did you bring me here to murder me?”
Because this place gave serious murder vibes.
Killian hesitated by scratching the back of his neck.
I took advantage and pushed toward the station wagon. There was something about it…why keep something so old?
“What is this?” My voice was quiet as I tried to look inside the clouded windows. For some reason, my heart pinched, and my chest pulled tight like a string about to snap.
With a sigh, Killian placed a hand on the top of the rusted roof.
“My first home.”
My eyes snapped up, completely unprepared for the emotions swirling in his.
He gestured toward the house behind him. “And that’s my second home…come on.”
Killian moved toward the back door, bypassing a laundry line that was loose and blowing in the wind. The steps were faded, chipped and barely holding.
“Careful.” Killian held the back door open for me and gestured me inside.
The interior of the house actually looked livable. The linoleum floors were intact, outdated but clean. The sink was white and stained but had been cleaned recently. There was a green couch that looked fairly new sitting inside the living room, an older television was set up, along with a card table, two chairs and an armchair that had seen better days.
“Do you live here?” I gently touched the back of the chair, eyeing the rest of the space.
Killian let out a sigh that held a mixture of uncertainty.
“It’s my pop’s house…he’s in prison. I don’t live here, but it’s a safe house used by the club. We’ll come here if we need to lay low because of cops, or just to have a meeting off the books.”
That made sense, but why did he bring me to a place that seemed so important to the club?
“Why am I here?” I finally asked, holding my arms in close.
Killian dipped down to where a small fridge sat, which I had missed, and pulled out two beers. “Figured we could chill here for a bit. Until Wes is done talking with Callie. He’s got something planned and just needed you safe until he tells me what’s next.”
Club stuff confused me. I was trying to gather what I could and use what I had learned from a few tv shows that I had seen, but this was crazy. Seemed like this club wasn’t entirely legal, which didn’t exactly bother me. I knew there was a code they lived by, or I assumed there was.
