Wet Work Carmen Faye

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental. Wet Work copyright @ 2017 by Carmen Faye and Olivia Stephens. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews. SUBSCRIBE TO MY MAILING LIST To receive a free copy of an exclusive short, join my mailing list here or by clicking on the banner below: http://eepurl.com/b9x4eb

TABLE OF CONTENTS WET WORK Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-one Chapter Twenty-two Chapter Twenty-three Chapter Twenty-four Chapter Twenty-five Chapter Twenty-six Chapter Twenty-seven Chapter Twenty-eight Chapter Twenty-nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-one Chapter Thirty-two Chapter Thirty-three Chapter Thirty-four Chapter Thirty-five Chapter Thirty-six Chapter Thirty-seven

LASHED Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty One Chapter Twenty Two Chapter Twenty Three Chapter Twenty Four Chapter Twenty Five Chapter Twenty Six Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

WET WORK

Chapter One My blonde hair whipped against my face as the boat coasted onward. I was starting to get pissed off. I’d brush the strands out of my eyes only to have them blow back across a second later. Between the wind and the spray off the water, I’d been fighting my new bob of hair all day. I should have left it long so I could tie it back in a ponytail like I’d always done. I checked the coordinates on the plastic sheet, the pounding of the boat as it hammered through the swells making it difficult to read. I didn’t even need to see them, really, but I took pride in my work and wanted to hit my sample location dead on every time. I went out into the Cape Perpetua Marine Reserve three times a week as part of my job at the Oregon Institute of Marine Biology to take water samples. I’d gotten my master’s degree there, and my graduate degree advisor, Mark Suttman, had invited me to stay on as his lab manager. It had

been the perfect start to a new life. Besides the fact that it was my job, I lived and breathed the ocean Most people thought the wet, overcast weather, typical for the Oregon coast, was miserable and depressing. I disagreed. I liked it when the weather was gray and dreary like this, and it made me feel vibrant and alive. My colleagues had tagged me with the nickname Ducky because I loved the water and the rain even more than the sunny beach days the tourists hoped for. I breathed in deep and tasted salt. This was home more than my birthplace had ever been. I turned my attention back to my clipboard with its plastic sheets covered with grease pencil writing, checking the coordinates written there against the GPS one more time. I adjusted my course a bit to starboard as I backed off on the throttles even more, slowing to a crawl as I approached my sample coordinates. It was the best way I’d found to record the sample information without the paper turning into so much mush from the spray and rain.

Mark was on a three-year study to research the effect of oil drilling in the Arctic Ocean on the Pacific ecosystem—something I would be doing one day if my life went as planned—and we were between research assistants. My tech, Paula, had returned to Cal-Tech when her classes had resumed. That meant I was the designated scribe for the weekly sample runs. I didn’t mind at all. I liked being out here on the ocean and in the thick of things. Any excuse to get out on the water was good enough for me. I checked the weather every morning as a habit and dressed appropriately. Oregon weather was only horrible when you weren’t ready for it. My black raincoat was slick with the sea spray and rain, and underneath I had on my personal uniform of jeans and a long-sleeved flannel shirt, red Wellingtons that my friends said I’d stolen from Paddington Bear, and binoculars looped around my neck in case something exciting popped up.

The ocean never slept, and you never knew when you were going to have a chance to see something special. Even though I was a hydrologist, I spent too much of my time in a lab, and not nearly enough time with the ocean, which was what had gotten me to Oregon in the first place. These kinds of jobs, where I could be alone with the wind, weather, and water, were why I’d wanted to come to Oregon in the first place. I’d visited the area when I’d been in college, just after my father had died, and I’d fallen in love with the ocean. It had called to me like a siren, offering me distance and refuge from my problems. I checked the GPS and closed the throttles, the thirty-foot boat coasting to a stop in the water as the big twin Mercury Marine outboards fell to idle, then silence as I switched them off. As the boat bobbed gently in the swells, I began

collecting the samples, pulling up water from three different depths and carefully labeling the samples. Samples collected, I recorded the water temperatures from all three depths along with the air temperature. The rest of the analysis would have to wait until I got back to the lab. I pushed my hair back, out of my face, with both hands and held it, willing it to stay in place, but the moment I removed my hands, it swirled in my face again. For at least the hundredth time since I pulled away from the dock, I wished I hadn’t chopped it off. Pulling it back into a ponytail had been so much easier for these sample runs. I’d needed a change, so I’d gone to the hairdresser and told her to do whatever she felt like. She’d chosen a style that, rather than making me feel more mature and sophisticated and in charge of my own destiny, made me look wide-eyed and innocent. It made my blue eyes bigger, my cheeks rounder, my face younger.

It made me look pure and unscathed, which was a lie. This was the last stop for the week, and once I had the samples secured, I cranked over the engines, and then pushed the throttles to their stops as I made a big looping turn for home. The boat bounded through the waves, and I was using my legs as shock absorbers, but at least I was heading into the wind, and my hair was finally out of my eyes. I was only six miles out, not even off the continental shelf, and I was navigating home using the GPS until land came into view. If the weather were clear, I never lost sight of land and could navigate home using the mark one eyeball, but today I needed a little help from technology. As the big boat roared toward shore, I smiled, loving the wind, rain, and salty air. If this wasn’t bliss, I didn’t know what was. I could relax and be myself out here. My past couldn’t catch me if it didn’t know where I was. If it didn’t know who I was anymore.

This was my safe place. I’d grown up in Indiana, hundreds of miles from any beach. When life at Indiana State had taken a dark turn and my weekends had become blurred with one-night stands and too much alcohol, I’d come out here to visit a friend. It was love at first sight. For the first time in a long time, I could breathe again. This was where I wanted to be. I transferred the next semester to OIMB and stayed through my graduate degree. From the corner of my eye, I caught movement in the water, two hundred yards ahead and to my left. I slammed the throttled closed and focused on the area as the boat dumped speed and settled into the water, waiting and watching with tingling excitement. A moment later it happened again. A geyser of spray shooting twenty feet up and the tingle became a rush. I’d only seen this one other time in my whole tenure at OIMB.

Today I was lucky enough to see it again. I kept my eyes on the ocean, tracking the movement, afraid to even bring up my binoculars for fear of losing them in the expanse of the ocean. After a moment, the geyser appeared again, then another smaller one, slightly to the side and a bit behind. My heart pounded in my chest. There was only one animal in the world that made that kind of spray, a blue whale. And here were two, with one probably a calf. Now that I had them located, I grabbed the binoculars around my neck and brought them to my eyes as a dark hump emerged from the gray water. The smaller hump surfaced, and I heard the rush of air as the calf exhaled and refilled its lungs. I continued to watch, tracking them with the binoculars until they disappeared, then without in case I’d lost them, but they were gone. What a way to top off my data collection and a week. The vastness of the ocean was majestic, something

I would never fully get used to. The animal was huge, and yet at the same time, so small. When I finally came back to myself, I felt light, energized, recharged by the sight of nature. The whale was pure, innocent and certain, taking little notice of man, or in this case, a woman. The morning couldn’t get any better. With a grin, I opened the throttles, and the big outboards shoved the boat toward home. Surprises like spotting the whales never got old. I was hoping there would be more, but the rest of the trip was uneventful. I pulled the boat into the dock, working the throttles with one hand as I steered with the other, until the boat kissed the bright red fenders tied to the dock. I shut the engines down and scrambled out of the boat, rope in hand, before the wind blew it back away from the dock. I quickly lashed the boat secure and then gathered my samples and notes. The OIMB lab was well up from the dock,

and I spent a moment adjusting my load for carrying. As I followed the path to the lab, I scanned the water, taking a mental snapshot to tide me over as I worked in the lab, when I noticed something floating in a tidal pool. I slowed, but at this distance, and with the drizzle, I couldn’t make out what it was. I continued to the lab and set the samples on the counter where I would test them, then stepped back out and made my way down to the pool. As I got closer, I could see it was some sort of black plastic bag wrapped in duct tape. I gritted my teeth, and my good mood began to fray at the edges. Garbage in the ocean really pissed me off. The thrill of seeing the whales was replaced by irritation that was like an itch in my chest that I couldn’t scratch. Humans were nature’s biggest threat and seeing shit like this made me ashamed to be one.

I waded into the pool. The water was nearly over my boots, but I had to get the bag out of there before the tide came in. I got to within two feet when I stopped and frowned, a sick feeling settling into my stomach. I could now see that it was much larger than I first thought, with more than half the bag stuck under a finger of rock. It was oddly shaped for a bag of trash, long and tapered at both ends. The more I looked at it, the more ominous it became. It looked a lot like… but it couldn’t be. Bodies didn’t wash ashore in real life, only on television and in mystery novels. Definitely not outside OIMB. I was being silly. Paranoid. I grabbed hold of the bag and pulled, but it was much heavier than it looked. I tugged harder, trying to work it out from under the rock with tearing it open, but as I pulled and tugged, I heard the sound of tearing tape and the bag gave a little. I continued to tease it out, grimacing as I could feel the bag tearing open, but I had to get it out of there. If I had to spend an hour picking up bits of trash that spilled out, so be it.

I felt the bag give and I hauled it back. A mutilated face stared at me with lifeless eyes. A bloated, pale, dead face. I stumbled back and fell with a scream and a splash.

Chapter Two I sat in the chair in the lab, arms wrapped around myself, physically trying to keep myself together. I was freezing cold. I’d poured the water out of my boots, but my pants and shirt were still wet, and the horror of what I found wasn’t exactly warming, either. I’d stopped shaking, but I still felt like I was going to throw up. I stuck my hands in my armpits to try to get some warmth into them while still keeping my arms tight around my body as tried to concentrate on what the police officer was saying. After half an hour of questioning, it felt like every sentence just left me colder. I’d been over it so many times I should have been numb to it by now. Some things just didn’t work that way. The day I became numb when I thought about encountering a dead body was the day something was seriously wrong in my life. Detective Reynolds seemed patient enough. He was willing to sit with me and give me the time to

get it all out. I told him everything I knew and, bit by bit, more of the story came back until he had something real to piece together. I felt like an idiot for being traumatized. “Take your time. You’re doing great,” Reynolds said. Kind of him. I wasn’t convinced. I felt like breaking down in a mess of tears again. I felt like running and screaming. I felt like shaking the detective and asking him what the hell was wrong with this world. I hugged my arms tighter around my body, trying to make myself as small as possible. I glanced at the lab door to see Cindy peering into the lab. There had been a parade of faces in that little square of glass as Reynolds asked his questions. “You didn’t know it was a body before you pulled it out from under the outcropping?” he asked. I shook my head. “No. I thought it was a bag of

trash or something.” I looked into his eyes, and I could feel the tears filling my eyes again. “When I got close and could see the shape I thought about it being a person, but decided that was crazy.” I paused as I swallowed my bile. “Turns out I was crazy. I wish now I’d never touched it.” I rubbed my eyes with one hand, scrubbing away the tears before they could fall. Reynolds fished in his pocket and produced a dry tissue that smelled like dust. It had been in his pocket for a while. Unlike the first officers that had responded to the scene after I’d called 9-1-1, Detective Reynolds wasn’t in uniform. He was a detective, and he didn’t have to wear the usual blues. His khaki pants were rumpled, and his jacket was worn albeit clean. In general, the man looked like he’d seen better days. That had to ring true for most police officers, though. This was definitely the ugly side of life, and they chose to live it this way.

I looked up at the detective. He could have been an attractive man, once. Too many years of bodies in bags had taken its toll on him. I could understand why. Instead of tall dark and handsome, he looked stooped, frayed, and tired. Still, he was being kind and patient, and he didn’t try to accuse me of anything. The thought had crossed my mind that I would be accused of the murder seeing as I’d found the body. Reynolds flipped through the notes he’d been taking and sighed. “Do you have anything else you want to add?” I shook my head. “I told you everything I can remember. I just want to go home.” I was on the verge of a breakdown. I knew because this wasn’t the first time I’d felt like this. The last time I’d felt like I was going to come undone at the seams I’d been a little more personally involved with the death, but the presence of death always felt the same, no matter who was the victim. I

didn’t like being reminded of that part of my past. The detective nodded and stood up, flipping his notebook closed. “Thank you, Ms. Tennyson.” Reynolds dug in his pocket a moment before he produced a business card. I took it, the card vibrating slightly from the shaking of my hand. “If you think of anything else…” he gestured at the card. I looked at the numbers. I didn’t want to call him. I wanted to forget this had ever happened. Bile rose in my throat, and I felt like I was going to throw up all over Reynolds’s shoes. I wondered if he would care. They weren’t shiny and polished. It looked like he made a habit of trudging around in the mud after lost clues. He smiled at me. I wondered if he had a family, if he was a father or a grandfather or if he faced this dreary world of his alone in a dusty cabin at the edge of town where no one would find him unless it were an emergency. It fit the stereotype, but I’d

read a lot of novels. “You need a ride? Do you have someone who can take you home?” he asked. I shook my head. My family was back in Indiana and Abby, the only person I would lean on in a case like this, was out of town for the day. Suttman was gone for longer. “My car’s here. I’ll be alright.” Reynolds was still standing in front of me, refusing to sit down, but not leaving, either. Maybe it made him feel like he was keeping his distance from me, keeping things professional. The honest truth was it would have made me feel better if he sat down again. I’d felt a little safer when I could feel the body heat of another person, at least. Or know that it was there. He smiled kindly. “I get that. Sometimes I think the people that find the bodies have it the worst. You’re just minding your own business and then suddenly there it is. It kinda ruins your day.”

I nodded. I wasn’t sure what to say. He looked uncomfortable with his effort to be sympathetic. “Can I go?” He nodded. “You’re free to go. Thank you for your cooperation.” He paused and then smiled again. “I know this is going to sound stupid, but try to find something to distract you. Go be with friends. Try not to dwell on what happened. That does you no good. There was nothing you could do.” He shuffled like he wanted to hug me, to offer me some small measure of comfort, but knew it would be inappropriate. I wished he would. I could use a fatherly hug right about now. He rapped his notebook with a finger. “I have your information. If I have any more questions, I’ll call you.” I nodded. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. I had work to do here, and I was exactly where I wanted to be when something horrible happened— near the ocean and the solace it provided.

I waited for the detective to leave before I rose and walked over to the lab window. Outside, the officers were still milling around the tide pool. They were too far away for me to tell what they were doing, but I could see the yellow tape around the pool as the blue and red strobes from their cars parked in the OIMB parking lot lit up the drizzle. I watched for a moment then turned away. I wasn’t a part of this now. Pursing my lips against the tears, I secured the samples. There was no time limit on how long I had to run the tests. If there were pollutants in the water now, they’d be in it tomorrow. I pulled my purse from the desk drawer and locked up the lab. I was salaried, so I didn’t have to clock out, and my colleagues gave me plenty of space. I paused at the parking lot, tears of frustration welling in my eyes. I didn’t want to go to the tide pool, but by car was blocked in by a squad car. I debated walking, but I was cold, wet, and sick to my stomach. Sucking up my tears, I turned and

followed the path to the dock then struck out across the grass. “Excuse me!” I called, stopping at the yellow tape. “My car is blocked in. Can someone please move the car?” The officers looked at one another, then one nodded with a smile. “Sure. Sorry about that.” As he ducked under the tape, I wondered how he could be so cheerful at a time like this. He seemed no more concerned that I found a dead man than if I’d found a wrecked boat or a dead animal. Maybe less so. I followed him back to the parking lot and nodded my thanks as he moved to the cruiser so I could get my ancient bruised and battered Accord out. I cranked my car over as he moved the patrol car out of the way, then backed out as soon as the path was clear. Squinting against the blindly bright

strobes, I made my way out of the parking lot and turned toward home. I was going to go home and get into some dry clothes. Then, I was going somewhere to get blitzed.

Chapter Three I stood with the crowd, watching the cops doing what cops do. I couldn’t tell much from my vantage point, but there was no way I was going down there—to hang around the po-po and the detectives —no matter how much I needed to see. Here I was just another face in the crowd, and that made it safe. The body could be Jonas. I was almost sure it was. We’d been keeping an eye out for him for over a month now. First, we’d looked around bars, whorehouses, and other places men like us hung out. When he didn’t show his face there after a while, we’d started checking to see if the cops had picked him up. When that hadn’t helped, we’d started watching the paper for news about missing persons, murder, or bodies turning up. I’d kept an eye on the coastline. The best place to dump a body around these parts was in the ocean. It was close by, and the current was a miracle

worker when you needed a quick disposal. If you were really lucky, a shark would help you out, and then even if the body were found, it would go down as an accident. More often than not, though, sharks stayed away from the already-dead and the bodies washed up on shore again miles further up the coastline. Which was why everyone else had been keeping an eye on the paper and not on the ocean. But not me. I’d had this gut feeling that Jonas would turn up at the worst possible time in the worse possible place. He was good at that when he was living, and the bastard was true to form after he was dead. For the last week, I’d been checking the beach every time the tide went out. This morning, I got lucky. Sort of. When I’d noticed her, she was already bent over and pulling on a trash bag, and that sinking feeling settled into my stomach. I’d slowed my pace, not wanting to get too close, but at the same time stay

close enough to see what she was doing. I saw her fall with a splash and had started to laugh when she’d started screaming with a high-pitched shriek that should have had dogs for miles around howling. I’d stopped and watched as she scrambled backward like a crab, then bounded to her feet and ran for the lab. Jonas. I’d debated trying to rush in and grab Jonas before she returned, or the cops showed up, or whatever was going to happen next, but then what? I was on my bike. Hauling a dead body through town was not only grisly but also probably as illegal as hell. I already looked like a thug. The last thing I needed was to have a murder pinned on me because a stiff was riding bitch. So I’d walked on by, casually glancing at the bag as I passed. I couldn’t see shit, but it definitely looked like a body bag. She was standing at the lab door, watching the pool while talking on her phone

and waving her free arm around. I kept walking then stopped further up the beach when I heard the wail of sirens. She’d called the cops, of course. I climbed back to the road that paralleled the beach then circled back around, picked up my bike, and rode it back to where the body had been found, leaving the bike parked on the side of the road as I melted into the gathering crowd. Now the blues were everywhere, taking pictures and standing around. I watched until they pulled the body out of the drink and loaded it into the back of the pickup topped with a shell and the county shield on the doors. There was no way in hell I would be able to reach the body now to see if it was a face I recognized. That’s all I wanted, for God’s sake. The crowd began to thin, now that the body was gone, but there were still enough people standing around to prevent me from standing out. As I watched, she came out of the building, stopped at

the parking lot, and then walked to the beach. I faded back from the crowd, walking back to the road and my bike as she returned, trailing along behind an officer. They shuffled cars for a moment as I mounted up and made myself ready to ride. “Fuck,” I growled when I thumbed the bike to life, the water on the seat soaking my ass. I hated the fucking rain. I watched the silver Honda as it pulled out of the parking lot and turned away from me. I smiled. At least I wouldn’t have to pull a U-turn. I waited until the brake lights lit before I pulled out onto the road to follow. I didn’t want to be too close. The Harley made a hell of a noise and following someone wasn’t the same on a bike as it was in a car. People took notice of bikes. I kept track of the dolly and followed her all the way to what I assumed was her home—the left side of a duplex in an okay neighborhood. I rode slowly past as she walked in and closed the door.

Dammit. I rode down the road and turned around, then stopped in a driveway when I could see her car. I pulled out my phone and selected the number from a list. Butch answered after the second ring. “Yeah?” he growled. He sounded pissed off, but then he always sounded that way, even when he wasn’t. “I found a body, but the cops beat me to it.” “Lizard shit! You didn’t want to tell me that before the cops arrived? Maybe we could have done something.” “There was a witness. A woman. She found it first and called in before I had a chance to do anything.” “Fuck! The stupid cunt waffle. Where?”

“Near the Oregon Institute of Marine Biology, out on Seaview.” “I don’t know the place. Have they already taken the body?” “Yeah, and there was a shit load of cops around. No chance for me to sneak a peek.” “Motherfucking shit lickers! This just keeps getting better! How the fuck are we going to know who the dead bastard is now?” We were all rough and raw, but Butch was a cut above the rest. Curse words comprised at least half of whatever he was saying, and that was when he wasn’t in a bad mood. “I followed the chick that found the body. I might be able to get something out of her.” Butch grunted into the phone. Getting Intel was what I was good at and what the Venom Chasers used me for. I could use my charm and my way with words to get what we needed almost every

time. If that didn’t work, I could use my muscles, fists, and foul temper, but that was rarely necessary. I was put on God’s green earth to sway the innocents, and that was what I did. Now and then I swayed the not-so-innocent, too, using my gift so I could spend a couple of hours choking some bitch with my cock before I used it to pound her through the bed. “You’re going to find out what she knows?” I swallowed. “She’s at home. I can’t do it now, but I’ll keep an eye on her.” “Make it happen, Pax,” Butch snarled then hung up without a goodbye. I put my phone away. Butch was a good guy, and I never doubted he’d have my back when I needed him, but he wasn’t one for fancy small talk, and his manners were virtually non-existent. How the guy was married was beyond me.

I watched her place as I lit a cigarette. I dragged the smoke into my lungs, feeling the familiar burn, and exhaled a cloud of smoke through my nostrils. I couldn’t just walk up to the door and knock. She’d be suspicious and wary of that. I had to find some other way to make it look like I accidentally ran into her. It wasn’t going to be easy unless she was the type of girl that liked going out on the town, but she didn’t seem like it. She was one of those nerdy types—dressed for comfort and not style—and she didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. She also kept her head after her initial start, unfortunately. It would have been better for me if she’d panicked. When my cigarette was done, I threw it on the ground and stubbed it out with my toe. I was ready to give up and go back to the clubhouse to get out of the weather. I knew where she lived and probably where she worked. I’d give her another ten or fifteen minutes, and then I was packing it in. The weather sucked big, and I wasn’t going to sit

out here all day with water dripping down my collar when I could pick her up another day. I was halfway through my second cigarette when her door opened, and she stepped out. I could tell she’d changed her clothes but little else from this distance. She flopped into her car, backed out, and drove past me as I pretended to talk on the phone. The moment she made the turn at the end of the street, I thumbed the bike to life and banked it out onto the road to give chase. I was careful with my following, staying far enough back that I could keep a car or two between us. She meandered around town as if she was unsure where she was going, or she was trying to shake a tail, but then she pulled into Salty’s. I rode past and pulled into a gas station and turned around, watching until she stepped out of the car. She looked up at the sign as if she wasn’t sure it was what she was looking for, but then she stepped through the door.

Salty’s was just short of a hole in the ground, with an owner that would be better off if he just closed up shop and went home. It wasn’t the kind of place I would have tagged her for at all. I looped the bike around and parked it in the corner near the road so if she came out she didn’t see the bike in the parking lot. I darted across the road then slowed to a walk. When I stepped through the door, it was like stepping into dusk. The lights were on inside, but they were dim, and the windows were so dirty the meager sunlight outside didn’t stand a fighting chance. The pub smelled of stale smoke, old shoes, wet clothes, and a hint of vomit. Murray was behind the bar fixing a drink. He nodded at me when he saw me and I nodded back. We knew each other. He was well paid to pretend any of the VC that entered were strangers unless we made it clear otherwise. Salty’s was one of our bars—one of the four places around town that we

met to conduct business. I walked to the bar and climbed onto the second stool over from where she was sitting. She looked better than when she left her office. Her new clothes and, while still comfortable looking, were more feminine and form-fitting than the longshoreman look she was sporting before. She still had on jeans but had swapped out her red rubber boots for a pair that caressed her calves and had a bit of a heel. Under her down vest, she was wearing what appeared to be a man’s button front shirt that complimented her. Her hair was still a mess, though, and her face seemed just as pale and serious. If I was going to get her to talk about what she saw, it was going to take all my charm. “Daniels, neat,” I said as Murray placed her drink on the bar in front of her. I took a twenty out and tossed it on the bar to start the tab. I looked at her full on. There was no reason to make it a secret now. She focused on her drink, swallowing down at least half the glass before sitting it slowly back

on the bar as she tucked her chin into her chest and sneered at the glass. It appeared finding the body had shaken her, despite her cool and measured response at the time. I took in her blonde hair, with just a hint of strawberry, liking the way it framed her round face. I couldn’t see her eyes yet, but all in good time. I wanted her to look at me. Women loved looking at me. Murray brought me my drink. I sipped the whiskey, letting the amber liquid slip down my throat. There was nothing better on this planet than a glass of good whiskey. Blondie didn’t take the time to savor her drink at all. She sucked down the second half and waved at Murray with a limp hand. At this rate, she was going to be trashed before she got to round three. I needed her to slow down. “That one’s on me,” I said to Murray.

“That’s not necessary.” She didn’t look at me, and her voice was low and monotone. She could use some cheering up. “Of course, it is. Are you going to deny me the pleasure of buying a pretty lady a drink?” It was damn cheesy, and I knew it. For a moment it looked like she was going to reject my offer, but then she turned to face me as a smile curled around her lips and dimples formed in her cheeks.

Chapter Four Big, round, and cornflower blue, her eyes were the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. And the saddest. Murray brought her second drink, and she wrapped her fingers around the glass, pulling it closer. She lifted it to me in a small salute of gratitude then brought it to her lips. “I’m Pax,” I said. She took a small sip and put the glass down again. She wasn’t going to down another one. My idea had been to get her drunk but not this fast. It wasn’t healthy for anyone, and I didn’t need her so slobbering drunk she couldn’t talk. “Leah.” I smiled at her—the smile I used on women, the one that made them melt, and she blushed. Her blush was sweet. Her cheeks flamed red like she wasn’t used to this kind of attention and her eyes turned away in shyness. I couldn’t remember the

last time I’d seen a woman this self-conscious. I tried to remember the last time I was with a woman that didn’t think she was the be-all and end-all of the world. It was refreshing, and my smile widened a bit. It was a pity this girl had gotten involved with the ugly side of things. In a parallel universe, I might have tried to find out whom she was just for the sake of getting to know her. “Thanks for the drink,” she murmured. I nodded. “Sure.” I moved one bar stool over so that I was right next to her. When I sat down, I leaned forward, my elbows on the bar. The thing was always sticky, but I was wearing my colors, and it showed off my arms as the leather strained around my muscles. I followed her eyes as she looked for a moment before forcing herself to meet my gaze. I flashed the same smile. She followed the same little blush routine. “What are you doing in this shit-hole at three in the

afternoon?” I had to get the conversation going because she wasn’t going to. Usually, it took one smile, and the woman was eager to get things going. This one was different. Her face fell, and her eyes turned back to her glass. “I had a rough morning,” she murmured as she spun the glass. I imagined it had to be rough for her, but I wanted the details. “Do you want to talk about it?” I willed her to say yes. Women loved the Dr. Phil routine, the part where the man let them bare their souls. It made them easier to get into bed. I wasn’t sure why but if it ain’t broke… “Not really.” She wasn’t going to talk about it, at least not easily. This was going to be harder than I thought. I wasn’t going to give up, though. Besides the fact that I needed the information, I wasn’t one to back down from a fight, especially when I might end up with

my cock inside of her. Challenge accepted. “How about a joke, then?” I asked, turning on the charm. She frowned and turned her eyes back to me. Woeful eyes. Curious eyes. Ocean eyes. God, they were lovely to look at. Lovely. If a knucklecracking son-of-a-bitch biker can use that word, you know it’s for real. “A joke?” she asked, using the same tone she would probably use if I asked if she wanted to step in dog shit. I nodded with a crooked grin. I’d been polite, and that hadn’t worked. Next was the fun and flirty routine. She nodded, her face still somber, but her eyes were a little less anxious. “Okay. I don’t think anything you say can make me laugh, though.”

“That bad of a morning?” She didn’t answer me. It was answer enough. “I can make anyone laugh. It’s one of my talents.” It was turning into a junior high spiel but if that was what opened her up, who was I to complain? “I don’t know…” “What do I win if I make you laugh?” She pursed her lips, and her face became defiant. It looked good on her and added a little bit of fire under her good-girl act. Nice. I shifted a little on my stool. She was starting to look more and more like a woman and not like a lost little girl. “This isn’t a bet. I just said you couldn’t do it.” I conceded. “Alright, then. What do you call that useless piece of skin on a dick?” I waved Murray over and pointed at our two drinks. Her glass was nearly empty, and now that

she was taking it slower she was warming up. This was just what I wanted. I watched her face. She frowned, studied my face. I kept it expressionless. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “What?” “The man.” I watched her. The joke hit home as she digested it, smiled, tried not to laugh, and finally snorted. “That was awful.” I grinned. “Yeah, but that counted as a laugh. I win.” She rolled her eyes. More of her fierceness was showing now that the alcohol swept away bits and pieces of her bad mood. She leaned on the bar, displaying her figure. I wasn’t sure if it was on purpose, but she was flirting. “It wasn’t a bet, remember,” she repeated.

I shrugged. “True, but I would have won if it was.” She leaned on the bar, body tipping in toward me. I put my hand on the small of her back for a moment and smiled. She didn’t move away from me or stiffen. She was accepting me. I’d moved to the “touch phase.” This was good. “You’re competitive,” she said. Oh, yeah. I was a hell of a sore loser. “I always get what I want.” Her lips parted slightly as she looked at me with those big blue eyes. The atmosphere had suddenly turned from playful to lewd. She cleared her throat and looked at the drink Murray had placed in front of her. She took a sip and cleared her throat again. “It’s time for me to go.” I didn’t want her to leave yet. She was just starting

to open up. “Don’t leave.” She looked at me with those eyes. I put my hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” Maybe I’d pushed too hard too soon. Whatever it was, I was trying like hell to reel her back in. She shook her head. “You didn’t offend me. It’s just been a rough day and I… I think I should go home.” For a moment she looked like she was going to cry. Please, God, no. I could handle a lot of things, but a crying woman wasn’t one of them. In fact, I was pretty sure that was the one thing that could sink me. She didn’t get up and leave like she said she would. Instead, she drank more. My phone rang in my pocket. I pulled it out to see Butch’s name appear on the screen. I silenced it and looked at Leah. “I have to take this. I’ll be right back.” I answered the call. “Hold on a second.” I gulped down some of my whiskey and walked to the door instead of toward the restroom.

I didn’t want anyone to hear my conversation, but I also didn’t want her to leave when I couldn’t see her or stop her. “Go.” “What have you got for me?” “I’m working on it.” “Oh yeah? How?” “I’m warming her up now. Just give me some time.” “Pax, we don’t have any fucking time! If the Demon fucking Aviators are coming at us, I need to fucking know, and the way I’m going to fucking know is for you to find out if the fucking stiff is fucking Jonas.” “What do you want me to do, goddammit? It’s only been what, three hours? Jesus Christ, Butch. Give me a fucking break!”

“I don’t give a slippery shit what you do! I need that info, and I need it right fucking now!” He was gone before I could reply. “Fuck you, Butch!” I snarled into the phone and then dropped it back in my pocket before I turned and walked back inside. She was where I’d left her, and when she looked at me, she looked like she had herself more under control. “Are you okay?” I asked her. She’d already finished the drink I’d bought her. She guzzled when I wasn’t there talking to her. God knew how wasted she would have been if I hadn’t followed her here and struck up a conversation. “I’m all good.” She didn’t slur, but her words had lost some of their crispness and were starting to melt into each other a little. I was guessing she was past tipsy and heading toward drunk. Fast. “What do you do?” I asked, trying to put the brakes on her getting smashed before I could find out what

she knew. I knew where she worked, but I didn’t know what she actually did, and I was interested. She ran a finger around the rim of her almost-empty tumbler. “I’m a hydrologist at the Oregon Institute for Marine Biology.” “Wow. That’s different than the usual. What’s a hydrologist do?” I wasn’t just pretending to be interested. I really did want to know more about what she did. The standard answers were teachers, secretaries, waitresses—that kind of thing. This was exotic stuff. “I study water.” I blinked at her, trying to understand what she was saying. I couldn’t so I repeated it back to her as a question. “Yes. I’m working on a study, at the moment, trying to determine if, and how, drilling in the Arctic

Ocean is affecting the Pacific coastal region. I collect samples and analyze the water, tracking the level of pollution. I’m just part of a much larger study. My data will be combined with data from other labs up and down the coast, and that will give us a picture of the movement of any pollution and what’s its impact on the environment might be.” “Okay,” I said, drawing the word out. “And that’s what they do at Oregon Institute for Marine Biology? I thought that place was where Marine Biologists work, swimming with whales, and all that.” She smiled, and I could tell she was warming to the conversation. “Marine Biology is a field, not a job. I work in marine biology, but I’m a hydrologist. OIMB also employs biological technicians, ichthyologists, fishery biologists, marine mammologists, microbiologists, mathematicians, statisticians—

all kinds of disciplines. But we all are, or work in the field of, marine biology.” “Yeah, well I graduated high school,” I said with a grin. I caught Murray’s eye and pointed at the two empty glasses. “You from around here?” “I’m actually from Indiana. I came out here to visit a friend a few years ago. I fell for Coquille so hard I changed my major from chemistry to hydrology and transferred to OIMB the next semester. I’ve been here ever since. It’s been almost five years, now.” I didn’t see how she could fall in love with a dump like this, but she didn’t know the rough side of Coquille. She didn’t know the scum that hid in the shadows and came out at night after the wholesome people went to bed. “A farm girl becomes a hydrologist, huh?” I smiled at her, letting myself be arrogant.

She looked at me with mock offense but then smiled as she nudged my arm. She’d reached out and touched me. This was working. It was small signs, but small things could get bigger. If there was nothing at all, it couldn’t grow. She looked at my arm, removed her hand, and blushed, but she kept on talking. “Everyone thinks people from Indiana, Ohio or Kansas all live on farms. That’s just stereotyping. We have farming communities, sure, small towns where most of the people farm, or support the farmers, but that doesn’t mean we’re all farmers. We have cities too. You may have heard of this small race we hold in Indiana every year… the Indianapolis 500?” I chuckled and held up my hands in defense. “Sorry. A farming community girl becomes a hydrologist. Better? What do your parents do?” She smiled. Shy. A little flirty. Her dimples deepened. She was cute in a very sexy way. She

was starting to relax now. The alcohol and the conversation had finally taken the edge off. “My family owns a farm,” she said, ducking the direct question. I couldn’t help myself, and I laughed, and she giggled with me. “I feel much more at home out here on the coast than I did in Mitchell or at State in Tera Haute. It’s something about the ocean…” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes became glassy. She disappeared somewhere in her mind. “I know what you mean.” She looked at me and focused again, so I carried on. “I know I probably don’t look like the beachy type, but I love the ocean.” Her eyes slid over my leather jacket and worn jeans, adding up my look to my confession. I could tell she wasn’t entirely sure, but her eyes were excited now, and there was a smile on her lips that hadn’t been there before. We were talking about

something she really loved, and it brought her to life. When I watched her mouth, her lips were kissable. Kissing her was suddenly all I could think about. She carried on talking about her love of the ocean, and I forced myself to concentrate on what she was saying as I picked up our drinks and led her over to a table.

Chapter Five “The sea, it doesn’t give a fuck, you know? We humans, we have conquered the snow, the heat, the forest… we can live almost anywhere on earth that’s on land. But the sea is still wild, and she can create and destroy without a second thought. The power. It’s… it’s…” She stopped, trying to find the word, her thought process slowed by her intake of gin and tonics. I knew exactly what she was talking about. “Raw?” She smiled a beautiful smile, the gin crushing her inhibitions and numbing her pain. “Yeah, that’s it,” she said, placing her hand on my arm again. “Raw. Powerful. Primal.” She looked at me, and I looked at her, and we were silent for a moment. Something passed between us, and she looked away and pulled her hand back as she blushed.

“Anyway, that’s why I love the ocean. It’s why I transferred. The ocean, it speaks to me.” “I can tell.” She gripped her glass again and drained the last of the liquid inside before her smile slipped away and she was the same picture of misery she’d been when I’d found her. She snorted. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She shook her head. “I know the ocean doesn’t care. I know it’s not personal. But today I feel like the ocean turned against me. For so long the water was a comfort. I could go out on the boat and feel free—alive. I could be me. But this morning…” She took a deep breath and tried to smile, but I could tell it wasn’t sincere. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself today.” She looked like she was going to cry again. She held up her glass, calling for another. She was

losing control of her emotions at this stage of her inebriation. If she didn’t have control, there was no way I would have it. Not for what I wanted. I took a deep breath and put a hand on hers. “You don’t have to apologize. Everyone had bad days, and yours sounds like a really bad one.” I watched her, hoping she would take the gap and talk about it, but she just nodded. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” “No.” Her voice was stern. She sighed and picked up the drink Murray had slid in front of her, then took a sip. For a moment she looked like she wanted to say something else and I waited, hoping she was going to open up. “No,” she said again, but softer this time, watching her glass on the table before taking a larger hit from the glass. I nodded. That was it for me today. The one thing about extracting information from someone was knowing when to quit pushing. You push too hard, and people shutdown and became suspicious.

When that happened, it was almost impossible to get them to talk. If I wanted to know anything more from Leah, I was going to have to see her again. “Let me take you home.” I didn’t mean it as a come-on, and I hoped she didn’t take it that way. I wasn’t going to be sleeping with her in this state. That would just complicate things for me. She shook her head. “I have a car.” Murray put his hands on the bar; his fingers were fat sausages, and his knuckles had scrapes like he got into bar fights sometimes. “Honey, you ain’t driving nowhere. I’ll call you a cab.” She frowned at Murray then downed the last of her drink in a defiant toss. He’d been ignoring us, but he knew exactly what went on in his bar. “I agree. Let me take you home. It’ll save you having to come back for your car. No funny stuff.” I held up three fingers. “Scout’s Honor.”

She pulled a face. “You can’t have been no boy scout,” she said, her words soft and slurred around the edges. I shrugged. “I used to beat them up for lunch money. Close enough, right?” She shook her head but smiled. I glanced at Murray as I slid out of the table. Leah did the same then wobbled on her feet. I grabbed her elbow and steadied her. Damn, she was a slight thing. I towered over her. She was just over five feet, and I had nearly a foot on her. I put my arm around her shoulders to steady her more as we began to move toward the door. She looked up at me—all wide eyes and pouty lips—and it took a special kind of restraint not to just kiss her. “I can drive,” she said as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Looks like walking might be a challenge first,” I

countered. She nodded. “Maybe you’re right. I think I’ve had one too many.” Her words were glued to each other and had become soft and rounded; all the corners of the hard sounds worn blunt. “I think you’ve had three too many, but I also bought them for you. That makes you my responsibility.” I smiled at her, and she smiled, too, those dimples appearing again. It only happened sometimes—when she was shy or embarrassed—from what I could tell. I liked seeing them. She was a mess. She leaned into me as I led her out, and it felt like a strong wind would blow her away. It made sense that the alcohol had hit her so hard. She probably hadn’t eaten, and she was small, it wouldn’t take a lot for it to go to her head. She also seemed to swing between being happy and being sad. Right now she seemed to be spiraling into sadness again. I’ve never understood

women’s mood swings. They were so damn unstable it was impossible to figure them out. I walked her around the corner of the building to the parking lot. There was no way we were going anywhere on my bike. She probably wouldn’t make it fifty feet before she fell off and I didn’t need my only lead to this murder splattered on the pavement. I glanced toward her Honda. I couldn’t let her know I knew which one was hers. “Where’s your car?” She looked around in confusion. “Don’t you have one?” I shook my head. “I’m here on a bike, doll face. You’re in no shape for riding today.” She looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. Then she pointed to the Honda. I held out my hand, and a moment later she produced a set of

keys with a whale keychain that was twice the size of all the keys put together. I couldn’t help but grin. “Cute.” I walked to the car with her. “You really don’t have to drive me.” She kept looking around like a better option would present itself if she looked hard enough. There was no way I was letting her get behind the wheel of the car, though. I’d seen too many accidents caused by alcohol. My life wasn’t a pretty one, and I didn’t want to think of her as the next victim. Besides, she hadn’t told me anything, and I didn’t want to lose any information. “It’s not a problem. Really.” She tried to protest, mentioning Uber or some other taxi. I opened the passenger door and guided her in, not taking no for an answer. I closed the door behind her and walked around the car.

The seat was so far forward I had to move it back before I could even get in. I didn’t bother adjusting the mirrors since I wasn’t going that far. Fussing with the car was starting to annoy me, but it wasn’t the car that was the problem. I’d wasted a lot of time and gotten nothing for it. I needed answers and time was running out. The Venom Chasers wanted information on Jonas. They were getting itchy, and they were looking at me to give them something to scratch. They wanted to avenge Jonas’ death and at the moment all clues, or lack thereof, suggested it was Demon Aviators out of Newton. They were our rivals, and they were more than capable of making someone disappear without a trace. I wasn’t frustrated with her, though. Not in the least. The afternoon had been a waste of time but not the effort—I had a foot in the door now. And if I had to be honest about it, spending time with Leah had been fruitless but nice. I smiled as I backed out of the parking lot. I didn’t have a lot of nice in my

life. The contrast was refreshing. I looked over at Leah. Her eyes were closed, and her head was leaning back against the seat. She wasn’t asleep, but she was fading quickly. She was going to feel this one in the morning. Or rather, considering how early it was, a bit later this evening. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d driven a car. I’d been on my bike since I’d started carting myself around because, at the time, it was the only thing I could afford. A fifteen hundred dollar Honda, and I had been free. That had led me to the Venom Chasers and a bike upgrade. I’d been part of the VCMC for three years. I’d starting out as a lackey and had worked my way up to a more specialized position by doing whatever was asked of me. I discovered that I had a way with people, so now information was what I did. I had the charm and the looks to pull it off, and I was good at getting people to talk even when they

didn’t mean to. That was the reason I was here. That and nothing else. I glanced at her again as I took a more direct path back to her house. She opened her eyes when I parked in front of her house. “We’re home,” she said. She looked at me, her eyes confused. “You know where I live?” Shit. “You told me your address,” I said with conviction. “I did?” “Yeah, when you gave me your keys.” “Oh. Right.” She didn’t dispute it, which meant it she couldn’t remember, and I breathed a small sigh of relief. Leah opened the car door and got out. She stumbled onto the pavement and then turned

around, looking at me. “Thanks,” she said. I got out of the car and walked around to her, handing her the keys. “It’s your car, I’m not leaving with it.” She looked like she felt stupid. “Right,” she said again and took the keys from me. She looked at them and then up at my face. “I don’t always get this drunk, you know.” It was cute that she was trying to defend her image. I shrugged. “We all have rough days. I drink, too, when things go wrong.” And when things didn’t. And whenever I could in between. She nodded and held out her hand. “You’re great for taking me home. Thank you.” I looked at her hand and couldn’t help but smile. She was offering me her hand. No hug, no impromptu kiss, no offer to come in and fuck her stupid. Her hand. I shook it and looked at her with

a smile. She was a weird one. Women usually wanted to drag me off to their beds, especially when drunk, but she was keeping her distance. It was intriguing. What was it they say about forbidden fruit and wanting only what you can’t have? This made her that much more desirable. “I’m sure I’ll see you around,” I said. She smiled, ducking her head with a blush as she turned away, walking to her door. She stopped just before unlocking, jingling her keys. “How’re you going to get back to your bike?” “I have a friend close by. I’ll ask him to drop me.” She nodded and unlocked her door, despite fumbling for the right key. She closed the door behind her, and I was alone on the street. I pulled out my phone and called for an Uber. I could probably get one of my brothers to come pick me up, but I didn’t need that shit right now.

Chapter Six I opened my eyes. Light from my undrawn curtains pierced my vision, and it felt like a thousand evil gnomes were driving spikes into my skull. I groaned and clawed at my temples. I hadn’t drunk like that since I’d left Indiana State. The hangovers were one thing that I definitely didn’t miss. The doorbell sliced through my head, shrill and insistent, and I realized it was what had woken me up in the first place. I rolled out of bed. The world tipped on its axis, and I was sure I was going to puke on my carpet. Five seconds on all fours and I had it all under control again. Thank God. “Ah, fuck!” I said as I pushed myself onto my feet. I stumbled downstairs, hanging onto the rail for dear life. How I got to the bottom without breaking my neck was beyond me. I pulled the door open, and it enraged the gnomes when the sunlight hit me full on.

“Jesus, Leah. You look like shit,” Abby snickered. “Thanks,” I muttered, using my hand on the knob to keep the world from spinning. Abby stood in front of my door looking resplendent —long brunette hair that I now envied for its length and not just its thickness, her makeup perfect, and a bright yellow dress that made me feel like the sunlight had just walked inside when she pushed past me into the house. “You went out last night? You never go out.” She sat down on one of my couches and waited for me to unstick my feet from the floor. “It was more like yesterday afternoon. At like, three,” I said as I gently closed the door; the gnomes settling down again once I was out of the sun. She frowned. “Are you okay?”

Abigail was the one friend I felt I could lean on. She’d invited me to stay with her after my father’s death so I could blow off steam. She’d helped me move here—finding me my duplex and arranging some strong backs to unload my furniture when I’d decided to transfer—and she’d been there for me ever since. I’d roomed with her at State my first year, and we’d become friends. I’d been looking forward to rooming with her all through school, but she’d decided that school wasn’t for her and had left for some guy in the grunge band scene. That hadn’t worked out, but she’d stayed. We’d stayed in touch but hadn’t been this close until after I’d decided I needed a change. I sat down and yesterday crashed down on me like waves on the shore. The images floated up from the alcohol-induced fog. The body in the bag with the bloated, dead face... The police and their tape and flashing lights... The detective trying to be nice when the reason he was there in the first place hadn’t been nice at all.

I shook my head. I wasn’t okay. I wasn’t okay at all. “I found a body yesterday.” Abby’s eyes widened. “A what? What kind of body?” I swallowed. This was hard to talk about. “A human body. In the tide pool. I thought it was a bag of garbage, but it was a body.” A lump rose in my throat. I wanted to cry. The combination with the hangover from hell made it seem like going back to bed was the best idea. Maybe I could stay there until it all blew over. How long could it take? A couple of months? Abby moved so she sat next to me. “This is crazy.” She pulled me against her for a hug. “I wish I’d been here.” She’d gone out of town for a job. Abby modeled clothes for Season 11 an up and coming women’s

clothier based out of Portland. I shook my head. “It’s okay, you couldn’t have known. Besides, you don’t want to know what I was like yesterday. I was a mess, got shitfaced, and now I feel like death warmed over.” She looked at me with sympathy. “Is there anything I can do?” She didn’t ask for more details. She didn’t ask about the police, or if they found something. She didn’t ask about the body and what it looked like. Abby understood that for me, a dead body took me back to the farm and the death of my father. She knew that I couldn’t talk about it without breaking down. I shrugged. “No.” She nodded then stood and walked into my little kitchen. She knew her way around, and I watched her over the counter with the two stools that

separated the kitchen and living room as she poured water and spooned coffee into the machine I dropped my head in my hands. “My head is killing me.” “What did you drink?” “Gin and Tonic, and a lot of it.” She took two cups from the cabinet above the coffee machine, and then filled a tall glass with water and shook out two ibuprofens from a nearby bottle. “Take this and lie down,” she said as she handed me the water and the tablets. I knew the drill. I tossed back the pills and drained the glass. I leaned over with a groan and closed my eyes. I tried not to concentrate on the body. I tried not to think about all the horrible things that had happened yesterday. Instead, I thought about the bar where I’d been drinking.

“Salty’s is a dump,” I muttered as I covered my eyes with my arm, hoping the weight of it would prevent my head from exploding. “Is that the place on Highcap?” she asked from the kitchen. “Yeah.” “Jesus, Leah! That’s the worst place you could go. You’ll probably need a tetanus shot! God only knows what kind of people go there.” I knew that. She was right, of course. I just hadn’t wanted to go anywhere I might run into someone I knew. Eyes still closed, I heard the machine gurgle, then a moment later I heard the soft knocks and bumps as she filled the mugs. The smell of coffee filled the room, and there was nothing better considering how I felt.

Abby brought the two cups over and placed mine on the coffee table. I lay still a moment longer, but the smell of the coffee called to me, and I sat up, wincing as the world tilted and the gnomes started pounding their spikes harder—the evil little bastards. “Actually, I met someone there, and he wasn’t half bad,” I said as I reached for my mug. I picked it up and met her eyes as she waited for me to say more. “God, and I was such a mess, but he was a gentleman, and he brought me home.” “He brought you home, or you brought him home?” I took a sip of the strong black coffee and sighed. The kick hadn’t hit me yet, but just tasting the hot liquid made me feel better. “It’s not like that. He was just keeping me company.” “Was he hot?” “Oh. My. God. He was drop dead gorgeous, Abby.

And it wasn’t beer goggles because he showed up before I got sloshed. He’s a biker type, you know with the leather jackets and the dangerous look? Pax—that’s what he said his name was.” “Pax? That sounds like something you go to the doctor for. He’s probably trouble.” I shrugged. “Maybe.” The chances that I would see him again were slim, so it didn’t matter. I wasn’t the kind of girl men like him went for. It was apparent in the way he wasn’t coming on to me. He had been flirty, but he hadn’t tried to do anything. Girls like me just didn’t end up with guys like him. “You know, I’ve never seen you really drunk.” Abby grinned as she sipped her coffee. “I’m kind of sorry I missed it.” I had both my hands wrapped around my mug, drawing heat from it. I wasn’t a big drinker

anymore. I tried to keep things under control. I knew what it was like to lose control and I hated it. “You didn’t miss anything. When he got me home, I forgot we were in my car, and I couldn’t figure out why he didn’t drop me off and just leave. Then I shook his hand, Abby. Can you think of anything more embarrassing?” “Puking on him?” She giggled, and I joined in. It was funny, after all. A damn shame that he would never see me as the kind of girl he would want to sleep with, but funny. The water, ibuprofen, and coffee began to work their magic and one by one the evil gnomes began to die, pulling their spikes out of my skull as they went. Abby was a godsend, and by the time she’d prepared sandwiches for lunch, I was feeling nearly human. Nearly.

I tried to send Abby away, feeling guilty for her hanging around and nursing a hungover girl back to life, but she refused to leave, shooing me into the shower instead. I showered, using every drop of the hot water, but when I emerged from the tiny cubicle, I realized I wasn’t going to die after all. I stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, my skin pink from the hot water. Abby was sitting on the bed with my clothes laid out. “Hurry up, we’re going to be late,” she said, not looking up from her phone. “Late? Late for what?” “Dinner, silly,” she replied as if talking to a fiveyear-old. And so my weekend had gone. I kept myself distracted with things around the house and going out with Abby. It was only at night when the quiet and darkness left me alone with my

thoughts that I dwelled on the body. I kept an eye open for Pax, but I didn’t see him again. Why would I? He’d been at the scummy bar, and that wasn’t the kind of places Abby and I usually visited. Besides, I suspected he wouldn’t be interested in someone like me, not after I’d shaken his hand and gotten trashed in the middle of the day. There were certain things that were a turnoff, and an emotional, needy woman had to be somewhere near the top. On Monday, I spent twenty minutes in front of the mirror, talking to myself, as I got ready—about how everything would be okay. It wasn’t work that was the problem; it was just a location close to work. Things happened all the time. I didn’t stop going to convenience stores just because one got robbed once, did I? I tried to ignore the fact that this wasn’t the same situation, but it didn’t work. The upside was that I had little reason to be in the area of the tidal pool, not to mention the pool was

only there at low tide. That meant there was rarely anything to see other than the ocean. The downside was the fact that I worked with the ocean every day, and now I was apprehensive about what it might offer up next. I took samples on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and I went out as scheduled. Being busy and on the ocean helped, but the joy I normally felt was a bit tarnished. When I returned to OIMB with my samples, I walked the path, trying to think of anything other than what I’d found the last time I made this trek. It didn’t work, and by the time I arrived in the lab I was panting, but not from exertion. I quickly began to prepare my samples. If I was efficient, I could get both of Friday’s samples, as well as today’s run, before I went home, but that meant no time for lunch. I started gas chromatograph with an attached mass spectrometer heating. I would load the samples when I got back,

and by then the machine should be ready to go. “Leah? How’re you holding up?” Cindy asked when I joined the queue in the cafeteria, a cold sandwich from the sandwich machine in hand. “You look a little pale.” She paused, perhaps to give me a chance to say something, but I focused on waiting to pay for my sandwich and said nothing. “I saw you during the… investigation.” That was the nicest way she could put it, but it was still like a punch to the gut. She was another assistant, and I’d seen her pretty face and coal black hair in my lab door window, along with a few others, as Detective Reynolds had questioned me. She worked in the microbiology lab, squinting into microscopes at living things too small to see. We worked together from time to time but were nothing more than friendly colleagues. “I’m fine,” I lied as I pasted on a fake smile.

She didn’t know the smile was fake and smiled in return as she nodded. “That’s good. If I’d been the one that found him...” She shuddered for effect. I nodded, keeping my smile in place until we’d paid for our food and she left to go sit with someone she was obviously more comfortable with. I guess it was always hard to speak to someone who’d been through something like this. You couldn’t say you understood because you didn’t. You couldn’t say you were sorry because you didn’t know what you were sorry for. And you couldn’t ask too much about it because it seemed inappropriate. It was fine by me. I didn’t really feel like talking to anyone at all, not even to make small talk. I left the cafeteria, with my sandwich and soda in hand. I’m sure they were talking about me, but I didn’t care so long as I didn’t have to participate. It’s always like that. Everyone always talks about the latest excitement and I was definitely going to

be the midpoint of all that gossip for a while.

Chapter Seven There was nothing to find. I turned Coquille County Morgue upside down Friday evening after dropping Leah off. I’d asked to see Jonas Welborne and came up empty. Then I’d asked to see all the John Does. The attendant looked at me like I was bat-shit crazy and wasn’t allowed without some fucking form from the police. Then I’d asked to see the body that had been brought in earlier that day. The attendant had nodded in sympathy and asked which one. I told him the one that had been pulled out of the ocean, but he couldn’t help me without a name, and I was right back to square one. I had never wanted to kick the ass of a morgue attendant so badly in my life. Saturday afternoon, I’d chatted up one of the policewomen after her shift ended, plying her with fawning attention and beer, and gotten the investigating detective’s name along with an invitation to play a little slap and tickle. She was attractive enough, but I had more pressing matters to deal with.

The detective wasn’t hard to find as he was in the phone book. I’d staked him out Saturday night and all day Sunday. He was a sad excuse for a man, in my opinion, living in a small run down house in a bad part of town, going to work on weekends, then back home, and nowhere else. Butch was on my ass, but it wasn’t like I could bust into the detective’s house and threaten him for the information. Not only would that potentially get me shot, but it would also bring heat down on the VC, and get a lot of attention on me, which was the last thing I needed when I wanted information under the radar. This was harder than it looked. I was usually so good at my job, but this was the first time I’d ever had to deal with bureaucracy, and I was finding it more than a match for my talents. Now it was Monday, and I was trying to work my way through the police department to get the fucking form for the fucking morgue so I could see the fucking John Does. My phone rang for the

fourth time in half an hour. “Pax, you shit waffle, I need some answers. You’ve had all weekend.” Butch sounded pissed, and it annoyed me. If the roles were reversed, I would probably have felt the same, but I was doing what I could. Here’s how it worked, though. You had to have people who had information in the first place before you could extract it. So far, I’d come with a whole lot of nothing. “I’m doing what I can, Butch, goddammit.” “You want to fucking tell that to Jonas?” I rolled my eyes and groaned inwardly. “I’m doing what I can! I’m at the fucking police station right now!” I hissed, my voice soft but I knew he could hear the anger and frustration. Butch hung up before I’d even finished speaking

and I stared at the phone, wishing I could hit Butch with a brick. He tried using emotional blackmail like a little bitch sometimes, and it was getting on my last nerve. I couldn’t produce anything if there were nothing to find, and even though the body had washed up, there was nothing special about it. Nothing in the news other than the fact that an unidentified body was found, and the police were in no hurry because they would eventually have the ID of the body from fingerprint or dental records, and the chick that had found the body was too shaken up to be of any use. I was the only one in a hurry and the one guy that didn’t know shit. I spent another hour dealing with the police but still left empty-handed. Since I wasn’t next of kin of anyone missing, or suspected missing, they weren’t going to allow me to go on a fishing trip to the morgue. I left the police parking lot and pointed my bike to the Rat and Parrot. It was a bar on the other side of town—the kind of place where I could pick up a good evening for myself. The women there were just classy enough to take home,

but still slutty enough for a good time, and best of all, they rarely wanted me to call them afterward. Besides, the few that did always managed to get over me being a dick to them. I rolled into the parking lot and dismounted, taking a moment to smoke a cigarette before going in. When I was finished, I stubbed the butt out and walked in. The place reminded me of a student joint— the kind of place that had half price specials on a Monday night and photos on the walls of the regulars that had come and gone over the years, many of them under thirty. I wasn’t a student even though I fit the bill. I was young and just as full of shit as the rest of them. But at my age, I felt like I’d lived a thousand lives already and drinking my life away for no reason at all seemed like a waste of time. Besides, I could never relate to people who hadn’t had it hard growing up. They were all soft. I walked to the bar and sat down. Conrad was an

old friend with muscles that bulged underneath his tight shirt and eyes that made women believe he was a bleeding heart. Guess we both had a bad boy routine down, which was why we’d hit it off when we’d first met. We’d gone different ways in our lives, but we were close once. He nodded at me when I sat down, and I returned the nod. “Jack, neat, please,” I said and pushed a twenty over the bar. He took it from me. “How’re you doing?” he asked while he poured the drink. “I’m doing fine.” He nodded. I didn’t return the question. I never did. He always asked even though I was off about it. Maybe it was his job to be nice to everyone. I didn’t give a shit about him because I felt like he didn’t really give a shit about me—it was all an act.

When he put the drink in front of me, I thanked him, and that was where we left things by way of conversation. I told myself over and over again that if you didn’t lose friends along the way you weren’t changing, and if you weren’t changing, life was going to be very bleak. Everyone had to change. The crowd was thin on a Monday night despite their half price specials. I preferred it that way. Little groups chatted in the corner, their voices not heard over the music from where I was sitting, and the barstools were mostly empty. It gave me space, and that’s what I valued. “Are you following me?” I turned around and looked into Leah’s big blue eyes. My mind scrambled a little, and I thought about when I really had been following her. I smiled the smile that got women to look twice, and she smiled, too. She sat down on the bar stool next to me, on the same side as the first time and I was

struck with an odd sense of déjà vu. “Looks like we just can’t stay away from each other, sweetheart.” I winked at her. She looked a lot more put together. Her hair was brushed and tucked behind her ears but curling up around the earlobes. She had put on a bit of makeup, and her smile was quick and easy. “It seems like you have a knack for drinking at odd hours,” I added. First, it’d been the middle of the day and now a Monday evening. She shrugged. “Sometimes a girl needs some distraction.” She flashed a cheeky smile. “Besides, I’m not drinking tonight. Despite what you saw, I don’t drink, as a rule, believe it or not.” Her smile was flirty, her eyes on mine for a reaction. Was she flirting with me? I leaned on the bar.

“Well, I can provide all the distraction you need.” She blushed the way she had the first time. The shy creature wasn’t gone; just hidden. I studied her face. When she wasn’t talking to me or smiling, there was something about her that was a lot deeper and a lot darker. Something that was hidden under a mask of smiles and jokes, but it was close to the surface. I saw her eye Conrad, and I wondered what she saw in him—if she saw something more desirable than what she saw in me. The good girls, the ones that didn’t want to cross the line, went for him. The ones that craved danger went for me. “A Coca-Cola, please,” she said and fished in her bag for her wallet. I shook my head. “I’ve got this.” “Oh, no. I know exactly what happens when I let you buy me drinks.”

I chuckled. “What could happen if you’re drinking soda?” I held up three fingers. “Scout’s Honor.” “Right,” she said, drawing the word out. She remembered what I’d said last time. She pushed money over the counter, refusing my offer. She was playing hard to get. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to get me to like her. It was working, in any case. “So, you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” She wrapped her fingers around her glass when it arrived and took a sip, looking at me over the rim. God, I’d forgotten how big her eyes were. You didn’t see eyes like that on a woman every day. “Who says something’s on my mind?” I shrugged. The fact that I knew she was dealing with finding the body had to stay secret, and I didn’t want to give away the fact that I’d been after her in the first place for what she knew. It helped,

of course, that we ran into each other now and it was completely by chance. She was reaching out to me. She was keeping this going. This was good. This was working. Maybe another drink or two with her, without getting her drunk, and she would decide that I was worth pursuing. After all, I could be exactly the kind of guy a girl like her needed in her life. I could be whoever the girls needed me to be, and there was nothing wrong with mixing business and pleasure. I looked her up and down—tight skinny jeans, a blouse that was cut low enough to make me wonder, and pumps. Yeah, a bit of business, but a whole lot of pleasure.

Chapter Eight “Good!” I said, forcing some good cheer into my voice. “I’m glad you’re past whatever was bothering you Friday.” She took a deep breath and blew it out again in a shudder. She turned her glass around and around on the bar, holding it with a thumb and middle finger. “I don’t know about that. I try not to think about it. Talking about it makes me think about it. When I think about it, I have trouble sleeping.” I held my tongue, letting the silence work for me. The lost girl I’d dropped off at home last time only vaguely resembled the mature, controlled woman sitting with me now, even though she still had the doe-eyed innocent look about her. God, men had to go crazy for her. There was something insanely attractive about a woman like her. She was sexy and innocent—the kind of girl you wanted on her knees, with her ass to you as she screamed for more. I shook off the thought. I had to be in tune with her right now if I wanted to get her to talk at

all. I shouldn’t be thinking about every way I could take her. She took another deep breath. “I told you I’m a hydrologist, right?” I nodded. “At the Oregon Institute of Marine Biology.” Her lips curled into a faint smile. “You remember.” I knew it that well because I knew where she worked; I knew where the body had been found. The OIMB was my current place of interest. I shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile. “If a pretty girl talks I tend to pay attention.” She blushed again and produced those dimples in her cheeks, and it was sexy. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to take her home with me. I wanted to fuck her. I didn’t know why tonight she was such a sex bomb. I didn’t know why I wanted her so bad. I

wanted to strip off her clothes and use every inch of her body for my pleasure. I shoved the thought away again, scolding myself for being perverted. She was traumatized, for God’s sake. “I was out on the ocean—collecting my samples. We sample the water in twelve places between four and six miles out.” I nodded in encouragement. I wanted her to keep talking. I didn’t care about the technicalities, but I didn’t try to rush her to the part of the story I was interested in. I let her ramble on, throwing in a word here and there to keep her going. “When I got back to the dock, I was walking back to the lab… and I found a dead body.” She said the last words quickly as if getting the words out fast would hurt her less. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to cry, the girl from Friday surfacing again. I’d known what she was going to say, but I acted surprised and a little

shocked. I widened my eyes, rounded my lips, and pushed my head forward again. I knew body language. I was good at pretending. “Oh my God, Leah! That must have been terrible. Are you okay? No, of course, you’re not okay. This was Friday?” She nodded. She still looked shaken, but I didn’t get the idea she would spill tears on me, and I was relieved. I hated it when women cried around me. I didn’t know what to do with them, especially when it was usually my fault. “Yeah. But you’re right, it does feel a little better to talk about it.” I smiled at her, not the sexy smile I usually pulled but a sympathetic one. I put my hand on the small of her back, and she looked at me. “I’m so sorry,” I said softly. I was sorry, just not for the reasons she thought.

She nodded. “Thank you.” I wanted to ask her what he looked like. I wanted to find out if any of the details suggested it was Jonas. I was trying to figure out how to do it without seeming ghoulish. She must have mistaken the silence for an invitation to continue. “He was all wrapped up. I saw his face,” she murmured as she stared into her glass. Something inside me sat up straighter. I took mental notes. This was it; this was where I was going to get a clue. “He looked so… dead. His face was all swollen and blue. His eyes staring into nothing. It freaked me out completely, and now that’s all I see when I close my eyes.” I frowned in mock concern. “Are you seeing someone about this? I mean, seeing a dead person

floating in the ocean is hard-hitting stuff. I hope the police aren’t bothering you with identifying the body and things like that.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to speak to anyone about it. I told you. You’re the first person I told, besides a friend. I look at it like it’s a horror movie. It scares you, and you can’t sleep for a few days, but in time the memory fades.” She gave me a sad smile. “At least that’s what happens to me. It’s why I don’t watch horror movies.” “The police aren’t bugging you?” I needed her to say something about the guy. I needed to know who the fuck he was, dammit! I was starting to get agitated. I didn’t want to be all sympathetic and kind. I wanted answers. She shook her head again. “No, they’re not bugging me. I told them as much as I could, but the guy was no one I knew. They’re sorting the rest of it out themselves, thank God.”

I watched her face for lies. I knew the tells. She wasn’t lying, though. She had no reason to. She just didn’t have any facts to give me on the body. She hadn’t recognized the face. After everything, I was no further than before. I still knew only as much as the news told me, which was nothing. I downed the whiskey in a frustrated gulp. Leah eyed me. “That was my first reaction, too.” I looked at my empty glass and then waved at Conrad for another. This wasn’t going my way. I wanted to get hammered and just forget about it all for one night. There was so much pressure on me to get this damn information, and a gang war, or not, rested on my shoulders. I swiveled my barstool so that my knee touched hers. She glanced down but didn’t make a move to break the contact. “I’m glad you told me,” I said, putting my hand on her knee, too.

“I’m glad, too, actually. It feels good just to be able to get it off my chest, you know?” I nodded. “I get that. You found the body at your work, right? How’s that working out?” She shrugged and took a sip. Her glass was almost empty. “I’m coping, but it’s hard because every time I see the yellow tape, I think of it. Right now, I’m just trying to ignore it, but I’ll be glad when the cops take that stupid tape down.” I nodded and moved my hand again, sliding it a little higher up. I didn’t want to come on too strong. “Anyway,” she said and finished her drink. She waved at Conrad and ordered another glass. Conrad nodded and smiled the kind of smile that made the girls covet him.

I watched Leah closely. She didn’t blush or smile back except in the way someone smiles at any waiter. She didn’t look the way she did when she was with me. It made me feel superior. Sure, I was a piece of shit, but I could get a doll like Leah and Conrad couldn’t. She wasn’t interested in him. Maybe it was because I took her home that time when she was drunk. Didn’t women develop that thing where they fall for the guy that saved them? Whatever the case was, Leah only had eyes for me, and that made me feel like the man. I leaned on the bar and flexed. Leah glanced at my arm, sliding her gaze down the rest of my body before turning her attention back to Conrad who brought her another glass. I wasn’t planning on sleeping with her right now. I’d gotten everything I could from her, but it was nice to know that if it came down to that, she was willing. It was in her eyes when she looked at me, the way her lips parted slightly when she did and how her eyes dilated. She looked away and blushed when she

realized I’d noticed. Her lips were perfect, too—thick and full, not too much, though. The perfect lips to slide myself into. I could just imagine what she would feel like—her mouth wrapped around my cock, her tongue hot and her big blue eyes looking up at me. I let myself savor the fantasy for a moment. My erection punched against my zipper, and I shifted in the seat, trying to readjust. I threw back my whiskey. I knew I was making things more difficult for myself but who said I had to stick with only extracting information from her? I was thinking I’d like to inject her with something too. Now that I knew she knew nothing, maybe getting into her pants was exactly what I needed to do. I could use her to talk to the police. She had a connection to the case, and maybe they would be a little more forthcoming with information. I wouldn’t complain, either. God, I wanted her. I lusted after her like if women before.

When she looked at me again, I turned to the bar and ordered round three. I didn’t want her to see the sex drive in my eyes; the way I would no doubt be looking at her. Some girls could tell when I undressed them with my eyes and I didn’t want her to think I was an asshole until it was too late.

Chapter Nine Talking about the body made me feel better. I hadn’t thought that would, but Pax was so attentive tonight. He seemed to really care that I’d been through something traumatic and he wanted to be there for me. Thinking back, he’d been attentive the first night as well. It didn’t fit his look—the badass clad in leather didn’t exactly shout out ‘I care’ but there it was. It was endearing, and it made me open up. Something happens when a girl makes herself vulnerable to a man, and he doesn’t take advantage of it. He was just there, listening, not making me feel like he wanted anything from me. We were just two people, talking. His phone rang. When he looked at the screen, his face closed and I had the idea it wasn’t a call he wanted to take. “I’ll be right back. I have to take this.”

This had happened the last time we’d been together, too. I didn’t know what he did for a living, but whatever it was, he got called often, and he had to take it. He hopped off the stool as the giant bartender placed his drink down on the bar. “How well do you know Pax?” the bartender asked me. I looked at him. He was good-looking. Lately, all the men I ran into were all easy on the eye. He had muscles that looked like they didn’t want to be constrained by a shirt and his smile was easy and open. “I don’t know him. We just sort of bumped into each other.” The bartender jutted his chin up in a half nod. “You know him?” I asked, picking up on something. The guy shrugged. “We were friends once, but you know how it goes—people change.”

I nodded. I knew exactly what that was like. “I don’t want to get into your business or anything,” he continued, “but just be careful with Pax.” I frowned at the bartender. What was his deal? It wasn’t like I was dating the guy or anything. We were just having drinks. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” “Really,” he said again. “He’s not what he makes himself out to be.” I took a deep breath. Without alcohol, I felt in control of my situation and myself. Friday night had been a reminder of how badly I could lose control if I weren’t careful. “I appreciate your concern. Like you said, though, people change. Are you sure he’s still the same

person you knew?” I asked, my voice cool. He backed away, hands up in defense. I had been a little snide, but I didn’t appreciate people getting involved in my business. Especially not after Pax had been the perfect gentleman—taking care of me when I’d had too much to drink and driving me home without trying anything. And tonight, letting me talk about the things that were bothering me. There weren’t a lot of men that were willing to talk without sex following. Pax seemed like he respected my wishes and that made him attractive. Pax returned a minute later and sat down on the barstool again. “Sorry about that. It was my boss.” I nodded. “It’s not a problem. What do you do?” I hadn’t asked yet, and if he told me Friday, I’d forgotten. In my defense, though, I was having a bad day… and I was ridiculously drunk. He hesitated just a second. “Data handling. It’s a rough term, but it’s the closest to what I do without

getting into it and boring you to death.” I smiled, trying to look like I believed him. He didn’t look like the type that worked in data handling, whatever that meant, but then again, he’d said it was a rough term. And who was I to judge what people did by what they looked like? “You said you’re from Indiana?” Pax asked. Did this guy remember absolutely everything we’d spoken about before? Still, it was flattering that I’d made a lasting impression, considering the state I’d been in. I nodded and sipped my drink. “I grew up there. My family still lives there. I’m the only one that broke formation.” He picked up his glass and gently pushed me off the stool with a hand on my back and guided me to a table. We sat and fell into some sort of comfortable arrangement—him sipping his whiskey and me my coke as we talked. It was

comfortable. It felt like two strangers becoming acquainted with each other, and the awkwardness slowly disappeared. “Tell me about Indiana,” Pax said. “Tell me what it’s like to live in a farming community.” I smiled when he brought that up. He really was relentless, and his memory was something to be proud of. I turned the glass around and around on the table. “We lived in a big wooden house that had been in my dad’s family for generations.” I smiled in memory. “If I said farm house, you’d think of our house. The school was in one of the newer brick buildings, but it wasn’t so new that it could be classified as modern.” I looked at Pax, and he nodded, urging me to go on. He leaned his elbow on the table and looked at me. I had his full attention.

“Both my parents worked the farm, and we had a couple of hired hands. My young days were all about playing outside with friends and getting into trouble. We had about 2,500 acres of soybeans. Life smelled like sunscreen and growing things, and everyone knew everyone. When I went to college, I got used to being a grown-up, and things changed a little. I liked to think I was a big deal, being all mature, and my parents and I started getting stuck because I was too good for farming. It didn’t stop me from having a good time, though. Those were the days.” I looked into nothing, reminiscing. I hadn’t thought about Indiana and what life was like in years. I’d blocked it from my memories for a reason. “How often do you go home?” I scratched my head, careful not to mess up my hair, and flattened it with my hand after I did. “I don’t, really. I’ve been back once since I moved

up here.” “That’s a long time not to see your family.” I shrugged. I didn’t know what to say to that. He was right; it had been a long time. But that was my business. I didn’t have to go back and see them. I spoke to my mom and my sister on the phone from time to time, and that was enough. Going back there just didn’t work for me. It reminded me of everything that had gone wrong—the reason I’d left in the first place. I didn’t deal with trauma very well, obviously. “That’s a pity. Your life sounds like it was pure gold back in the day.” Pax sipped his whiskey. Did it really? I guessed it was because I’d done everything I could to make it sound great—bringing up only the good things and the happy memories. It was easier than mentioning that it was hell to think about home and to justify why.

“Don’t you miss your family and home?” I shook my head immediately. “That’s not home.” He raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t hesitate on that one.” I looked into my glass at the fizzy liquid, a little bubble surfacing every now and then before popping. Being comfortable with someone meant they asked you about things you didn’t want to talk about and they didn’t think it was wrong. I didn’t really want to talk to Pax about my past, but he’d handled my opening up about the body in such a sensitive way, and I felt like I could talk to him about other things, too. Maybe talking about Indiana wasn’t going to kill me. “Indiana is home, but it doesn’t have happy memories attached to it. Not anymore.” He frowned. “Not even if you grew up there? Had such a great time? Surely it can’t be all bad.”

I shook my head, not making eye contact. “Sometimes it’s all good until one thing happens and then suddenly all the good become bad. It’s not something you can help. I don’t know if that’s ever happened to you?” He thought about it for a moment and then nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I don’t have something specific I can tell you about, but I get where you’re coming from.” We sat in silence for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was softer like he was scared to ruin the moment or startle me. “Do you mind if I ask you what happened to make all those memories turn bad for you?” I didn’t want to answer him. It was hard talking about things that still hurt no matter how many years down the line it was. I took a deep breath and looked at him. His dark eyes were on me, and

they were sympathetic and kind. He looked like he really cared about my reaction—about what it was that haunted me at the back of my mind. And the talk about the body I’d found had turned out all right. I found myself wanting to confide in him. “My father died when I was in college.” I watched Pax’s face carefully. Shock and then sorrow. He felt for me. “I’m so sorry. I can see how that would make everything else seem terrible, then.” He was saying that, and it was sweet because in a lot of ways I was sure he could imagine my pain. He wouldn’t understand fully what it had meant. I didn’t want to tell him the full story. I didn’t want to add in anything that could make me remember just how bad it really had been. That could change what Pax thought of me. After my father’s death, there had been a very dark

time where every decision I’d made had been a bad one, geared solely toward getting me to forget about everything that had happened. I’d walked a very dangerous, rocky road and it was only through luck and Abby that I’d gotten out of it. “I didn’t cope with it really well after he died. I made some poor decisions, and my life got worse and worse. I came out here to get away from it all and fell in love with the ocean. Coming here was the perfect escape—the solution to a problem that was eating me alive. I don’t look back.” Pax nodded. “I can see that.” I didn’t know if he really could, but he was trying, and that meant a lot. “Thank you for listening to all my stories. Two nights full of woe now—it’s got to be tiring just listening to me.” He smiled, and it was a heart-stopping one. Sometimes the way he looked at me made me shudder and melt into my panties. There was

something dark and dangerous about him, and that made him attractive. I wanted to know more about him, more of him. I didn’t want to come across needy, but if Pax asked me if I wanted to get out of here at any point, I was going to say yes.

Chapter Ten Everything about her screamed sad, kicked puppy. I didn’t know exactly what she’d been through before, or why she was the one that had to go through all of this now, but one thing became clear. This was one unlucky woman, at the wrong place at the wrong time. Even now, when I hadn’t been following her. I still wanted to get closer to her—to use her for information and access. And with the way she looked at me and blushed when I grinned at her, I wanted to use her for more than that. I put my hand on her leg again, and she didn’t move away, just like before. In fact, it looked like she was leaning forward a little, leaning toward me. Her body language was positive. And so was my mood. I was in the mood to fuck her into oblivion. The bar wasn’t particularly noisy, but even so, I became aware of the fact that it had fallen quieter than it had been. I frowned and looked around.

Two men, heavily clad in leathers and spikes, stood in the doorway to the bar. They looked like bad news; their hair was a mess, their eyes had dark circles underneath them, and their very presence screamed danger. I knew they were a danger not just because of what they looked like, and my ability to spot trouble when it stared me in the face, but because I actually knew them. Not by name but by profession. And rivalry. Two members of the Demon Aviators had just walked into the bar. One of them looked straight at me, my jacket giving me away. The Venom Chasers and the Demon Aviators had been nemeses for years. I couldn’t remember a time when we hadn’t hated each other. I glanced at Conrad. He was looking at them, too, and his hand was underneath the bar. What did he have down there? A baseball bat? A gun? He knew

this was trouble. Anyone who hosted one or both our clubs knew about the rivalry if we ended up in the same room, they had to prepare for a fight. Leah didn’t look like she’d picked up on the bad vibes. Some of the other patrons looked around like they had a feeling something was wrong but they didn’t quite know how bad it could get. I took a deep breath and caught Conrad’s eye. He gave me a look warning me that he didn’t want trouble. He had no problem banning me. One of them walked to a corner and got a table. The other walked toward us. He glared at me all the way until he reached the bar before turning his attention to Conrad. Leah turned around to look at what I was looking at, and the Aviator looked at her. He winked, and I wanted to break his face. None of them deserved to even look at the woman I was with, no matter if it was just a one-night stand. They were the scum of the earth and didn’t deserve to even touch one.

Leah turned back to me. We waited in silence for him to collect his drinks, pay for them, and walk back to his buddy in the corner. When they were seated, I turned my attention back to Leah. “That was tense,” she said. “What’s going on?” I nodded at the thugs. “There are people in this town that don’t like to play nice.” I understood the irony of what I was saying. I was one of those people that didn’t play nice. If she even knew half of who I was, it would be good for her to run as far away as she could. Conrad put both his hands on the bar, leaning on straight arms, and looked at me. I knew what he was trying to tell me. I wasn’t good for her, either. I ignored him. I didn’t need anyone to interfere. He was already a pain in the ass.

“Do you think they’ll cause trouble?” I shook my head. I was pretty damn sure they would try, but it was pointless scaring her. To be honest, though, I wanted to pick a fight with them. If they’d killed Jonas… my blood boiled just thinking about it. But tonight wasn’t the night for club rivalry, not if I wanted Leah to stick with me. The moment she knew who I really was, what I was doing here, my chances were ruined. I turned all my attention on her. “I’ll make sure there’s no trouble.” I smiled at her, and she smiled back at me. I was going to play protector and sympathizer all I needed to. Leah took a deep breath and she looked like her good mood was starting to slip away. She shook her head as she looked at her cola. “Trouble just seems to follow me. I left Indiana to get away from everything that happened when…” She didn’t add the part where her dad died. She didn’t have to. I nodded. She swallowed and gave

me a wan smile. “I ran halfway across the country to get away from it, and now it feels like it’s followed me here. It’s part of this place now too, in a way, although it was no one I knew.” She paused a moment then continued. “I’m starting to think that maybe I’ll quit and find another position somewhere else. Maybe I can start over again.” I shook my head. “I don’t think running from your problems is the way to handle it.” I was being a little forward, but the truth was I couldn’t afford to have her leave now. If she left before I sorted all this shit out—finding out what the hell happened to Jonas—I would lose my foot in the door. Leah was my only connection to the body. Without her I had nothing. Leah sighed. “I know what you’re saying. I was just throwing the idea around; I hadn’t made any set plans yet. But I don’t want a repeat, you know?” I nodded and put my hand on her hand and held it.

It was the most direct contact we’d made so far, apart from her ridiculous handshake when we’d parted the first time. “Just give it a little more time. I can’t believe you want to leave this place behind. I can see how excited you get when you talk about what you do. You shouldn’t just leave just because something you had nothing to do with happened.” Of course, I was just talking through my ass to get her to stay. I didn’t know shit about her past other than the little bit she told me. I didn’t know if history was repeating itself for her. All I knew was the fact that I needed her and she was in an unfortunate position. Death followed her around, apparently, but I didn’t say that out loud. I didn’t want to put her off after I’d built her up, and I didn’t need another pointed look from Conrad, either. I’ve had more than enough selfrighteousness out of him for one night. We didn’t get along, and we kept our distance from each

other for that reason. It’s a pity to lose friends, but the truth is that if you’re not losing people, you’re not changing and there’s nothing more boring than staying the same. At least, that was how I kept justifying it for myself. Leah looked over her shoulder at the DA’s sitting in the corner. “They’re not going to bother us,” I said. I looked at them too. I didn’t think they were going to bother us, but I couldn’t say that I was a hundred percent sure. They were just so damn unpredictable that the whole night could still turn on my head, and I would never have seen it coming. I got up. “Let’s get out of here,” I said. She looked up at me with those eyes, and I held out my hand to her. She smiled and took it. She was relieved we were going. I was, too. I didn’t mind a fight. A good fight every now and then scratched an itch I couldn’t reach otherwise,

but I didn’t relish taking on two. I didn’t want Leah to find out who and what I really was, and getting the shit kicked out of me by a pair of assholes wouldn’t improve my stamina for fucking later. Besides, even without a fight, tonight had more than enough potential to blow up in my face. Leah and I walked out of the bar with my hand on the small of her back. Once we reached the door, I knew they wouldn’t follow. They wouldn’t take it outside where no one would see the outcome. The problem with the DA’s was the fact that they wanted to put all their muscles and their menace on display for the world to see. There was no fun in doing it behind closed doors where it couldn’t generate the kind of fear that spread like wildfire among onlookers. Leah breathed in deeply. I did the same, and I tasted the sea even though it was several miles away. “There’s nothing better on this earth than that

smell. Not even the smell of rain.” She sighed. I nodded. I understood where she was coming from even though I disagreed. I’d grown up on the coast. This smell was normal. I had the feeling she appreciated it more because it was her safety net, the thing that kept her sane. For me, it was just run of the mill. She looked at me when we were both on the curb. I didn’t want to say good night just yet; I wanted more. I didn’t want to push too hard, but I wanted as much as I could get from her. With a woman like her as my company for the night, it would be a shame to go home alone. I leaned in and kissed her. It was unexpected, and she made a small yelping sound in the back of her throat. I had my hand behind her back, pulling her against me. For a moment she froze, but then she melted against me and sighed. The kiss was beautiful; the kind of kiss I would have put in a movie if it were up to me. It was the kind of kiss

she would rave to her friends about. When I broke it, she looked at me, smiling so that her dimples appeared and I knew that if I saw her in the light, she would be blushing. “Thanks for a great night,” she said. Was this it? She looked around as if she’d misplaced her car and spotted it a moment later. “Are you here on your bike?” I nodded. I didn’t own a car. “Hmm.” “Why?” She hesitated just a second. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not the most forward kind of girl…” She trailed off, and I waited for her to carry on. She looked around as if the rest of her sentence would be found somewhere close by. “Do you want to come

home with me?” she finished before she turned her eyes back to me. They were large and liquid and deep like the ocean now. I stepped closer so that we were nearly touching. “I’d like that.” She smiled again, with a blush, and gestured with her head toward her car. I walked with her, and she handed me the keys.

Chapter Eleven The entire ride home I fretted over the state of my home. I hadn’t expected to bring anyone home with me, and I knew the place was a mess. I hadn’t felt like “picking up” as I slowly crawled out of my emotional hole. When I opened the door and stepped inside, it was in even worse shape than I remembered. There were empty cups on the coffee table and a comforter that I usually packed away. The kitchen sink was full of dirty dishes. I grimaced in embarrassment. I was about to apologize for the mess when Pax whistled through his teeth. “You’re really into your pictures, aren’t you?” I had paintings of the ocean, beaches, and sea creatures on the walls. I had shells on the end tables and bookshelves. I liked bringing the ocean home with me. “You’re really serious about what you do.”

He said it with a kind of awe as if passion was hard to come by when it was about a job. Maybe it was true; I’ve heard that a lot of people don’t like what they do. I didn’t know how you could do something for a minimum of eight hours every day and not enjoy it. “Do you want something? Coffee?” I asked. When Pax had kissed me outside the bar, it had been magic. His lips had touched mine and electricity had run through my body. It had been amazing, and I’d wanted every inch of him inside of me. Now it felt like we were stuck in some sort of stalemate where the mood was stale in the air, and the touch barrier was back so that it felt like I couldn’t just reach out and instigate something. When I’d invited him home, I hadn’t imagined sitting on my couch drinking coffee together to be the outcome. “Yeah,” Pax said as he walking toward me. When he was right in front of me, he reached for me and pulled me against him. “I’d like some, or all, of

you.” He kissed me before I could answer, pulling me hard against his body. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and he tasted me like he was searching every corner of my mouth. His body was rock hard and taut, his muscles straining against his clothes. I felt what was going on in his pants, too. He was hard and hungry and ready for sex. And I was ready to give it to him. He’d stepped right up and taken what he wanted, and it was hot as hell. My whole body was tingling, and I was aware of the response in my panties. “Is your bedroom upstairs?” Pax asked between kisses, his voice hoarse. I nodded, and we made our way to toward the staircase, my hand in his to drag him along, not that he needed any encouragement. He pulled me to a

stop at the foot of the steps and pulled me into another torrid kiss as his nimble fingers worked the snap to my pants, then a moment later, the latch to my bra. He kissed down my neck as he slid my pants down and I wriggled out of them. He moved in, but I gently pushed him back. I was going to get wild, and I didn’t want to get hurt fucking on the steps. I turned and led him upstairs, leaving the jeans in a pile on the bottom step. I knew he had a spectacular view of my ass as he climbed the stairs after me and I put some extra swing into, smiling as I heard him groan. At the head of the stairs, he grabbed me and pulled me against him again, retaking my lips, as if unable to control himself. I smelled the faint scent of smoke and whiskey. I didn’t remember him smoking when we were sitting together at the bar, but I was sure he smoked. I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it. He pulled my blouse over my head, and I was in my underwear. I’d chosen the black set, and I was

happy I had. I felt good about Pax looking at me. I wasn’t the skinniest girl in the world, but I had curves in the right places. I had big breasts and an ass to balance it out, and I knew how to drive a man wild with them. Pax pushed me against a wall, my head between two paintings of the ocean. His hands found my breasts, and he pinned me with his hips, holding me there as he kneading my breasts, massaging them as he kissed the valley. He pulling the bra away and dropped it as if once it was removed from my body, it was of no more concern, and my body hummed with anticipation. As we kissed, I began peeling off his clothes and dropped them to the floor. His leather jacket was first, followed by his shirt, and that’s when I noticed the tattoos. Both his arms and half of his torso were covered in them. I was willing to bet there was a lot on his back, too. I didn’t have any tattoos, and my skin seemed very pale against his.

He kissed me again, leaning against me and his naked skin was hot and erotic. I fumbled with his belt buckle, struggling with how close he was to me, grinding his hips against mine. I managed to get it undone, pulling his zipper down and undoing the button before I worked his pants over his hips. He moved away for long enough for me to get the pants over his hips. He kicked them off and then was against me again. This was a lot of man, and he was all over me. His muscles were defined, rippling under his skin when he moved. He didn’t look like a “data handler” at all. I lost my train of thought when he put his hand between my legs, cupping my sex. His fingers probed my entrance through the material, and I gasped, wanting more. My body trembled lightly all over. I was so worked up and ready to go, and he was making me wait for it. He was working me up to an orgasm, my hips

pumping as I whimpered in erotic distress. I was sucking on his tongue, riding the pleasure when suddenly his fingers were gone, and I whimpered again, in frustration this time. He peeled me off the wall and shoved me gently toward the open door of my bedroom. There were clothes on the floor, and books on my desk and everything was a mess, but it didn’t matter now. He wasn’t here to judge me on my housekeeping. We collapsed on the bed in a tangle of limbs, and he was all over me again. His mouth found the soft skin of my neck, and he nibbled his way down to my breast, his lips and tongue hot. His stubble scraped on the soft skin when he kissed me, but his lips were making magic, and I didn’t mind. He took my nipple into his mouth and battered it savagely with is tongue as his fingers tweaked and teased its mate. He was driving me crazy. I wanted more. I wanted it all. I arched my back while holding his mouth, silently encouraging him to give me more, and he complied

before leaving my sweetly aching nipples as he kissed away from my breasts and down my stomach, leaving a trail of tingling pleasure in his wake. I squirmed underneath him when he held onto my hips, holding me in place. My thighs opened for him, and he kissed my hip bone and pulled down my underwear before he moved down between my legs. He closed his mouth over my sex and slid his tongue into my slit. My body jerked when he flicked his tongue over my clit, and I writhed when he trailed further and further down until he reached my entrance. He didn’t probe in. Instead, he moved back up and closed his mouth around the top of my slit, sucking on my clit. I squirmed against his mouth—arching and whimpering. Pax was going to push me over the edge before we even really got into it, and I wanted it. It had been a while since I’d been pleased by something that didn’t run on batteries, and Pax was doing an admirable job of it.

The orgasm built quickly and exploded through me. I cried out softly and closed my legs around his head, gripping him with thighs and hands as I fought through the pleasure as he continued to lick and kiss, driving my release on. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth in a silent scream, and rode the orgasm, letting it take over as my body contracted and released, contracted and released. When it was over, I collapsed in a puddle as I panted, waiting to come back into myself. Pax rose to his knees and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He smiled as he slid out of his underwear. His manhood was thick and hard, pointing up as a glistening drop escaped from the tip and slid slowly down his shaft, making its way for his heavy balls underneath. This was a man that was well hung. He crawled over me, and I shivered. His closeness was intoxicating. This was what I’d been waiting for all night. He positioned himself at my entrance,

and he looked into my eyes. I gasped when I realized he hadn’t pulled on a condom, but when he pushed into me, all thoughts of protection were cast aside. I was on the pill… the rest was up to fate. He slowly slid deep, my body adjusting to the size of him as it stretched and yielded. When he was in to the hilt, he moved around a little as he waited for me to adjust. The feeling of him between my legs was pure ecstasy, especially after my first orgasm. He filled me up, and when he started moving, pulling out and pushing back into me, I gasped and moaned as pleasure washed over me. He started out slow but then picked up the pace, moving faster, driving into me harder, once he was confident I’d adjusted to his size. His hips took over, knowing the motion. I rocked my hips with his, fitting in with the rhythm. I gasped again, alive with pleasure, and for a long moment, the sounds of sex filled the room, my bed bumping softly, adding a beat to the soft slaps of

skin on skin and the gasping, moaning, and groaning. Another orgasm started building, and he seemed to sense it. He began to drive into me harder, grunting in effort as his arms wrapped me up. “Come on, baby,” he murmured as he pounded into me, his words adding spice. “Come on, baby… I want to feel you come.” I began to twist in pleasure, his cock hitting me just right. I clamped down on him as I began to tremble. His skin was shiny with a thin sheen of sweat, and the slickness everywhere our bodies touched was another source of pleasure. “Come on!” he barked, ordering me to climax and that was all it took to send me over the edge again. My legs went numb and a second orgasm blossomed from my core, flowing through my body toward my extremities. I closed my eyes, and Pax settled lower, adding more of his weight, pressing

me deeper into the bed, and I luxuriated in the contact, the feel of his body against mine. He slowed down when I orgasmed, just enough for me to focus on what my body was doing. I wrapped my legs around his ass, and my body curled around his, my nails biting into his skin. He groaned. “Sorry,” I whispered. “Don’t be.” I closed my eyes as the last of the orgasm washed out of me. When I opened my eyes again, Pax was looking at me, a teasing smile on his face, knowing that I had been well pleased. He picked up the pace again, and I knew this was for him. He pumped into me harder and faster, and I cried out as he buried his face in my neck, matching my moans to his rhythm. I was sensitive now, tighter around him, and there was something primal about the way he moved inside of me. He moaned, a kind

of gasping grunt that spoke of his need and his struggle as he began pounding into me harder still. The squeak of the bed became a knock as the headboard thumped against the wall. I was sure the neighbors would be able to hear, but I didn’t care. I knew when he was close. His strokes became shorter and quickened, his big hands and strong arms tightening down as he groaned low and deep. I knew he was fighting it, trying to hold off his own orgasm, so I dragged my nails along his back. “Come,” I whispered an instant before his body jerked. He began to grunt, his hips pumping slowly as he pumped hot jets into me, claiming me as his, at least for the night. He lay on me, breathing hard, holding me tight and forcing my breathing into the same rhythm as his. I could feel him softening, but he continued to hold me until he slipped out. With a groan, he rolled off of me then pulled me in for a snuggle. I looked up at him, wanting to see his face.

“That was fantastic,” he said. I smiled. It really had been, and I wasn’t going to worry about the lack of a condom. I had done enough worrying for tonight, and I wanted to enjoy the moment. I looked at him again and wondered if he was going to get up and leave. I knew he was a onenight stand. I didn’t expect him to have any kind of feelings for me and what I felt for him was nothing more than a little crush born from his saving me in a time of need. But I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted him to stay with me, at least for tonight, and make me feel like I was more than the loose college girl I had been for a while after my father’s death. “Do you mind if I stay the night?” he asked. I shook my head and smiled. It was strange that he was asking, but it was better than him just leaving. “My bike is still at the bar.”

It wasn’t something I’d wanted to hear, and the moment of joy I felt at his asking disappeared. I didn’t just want to be a make-do situation, but it was better than nothing. I held my smile. I was getting what I wanted. I rolled out of bed, peeled the covers back, and gave them a little tug to indicate he should move. When he stood, I pulled them further down and crawled back into bed. Pax looked at me for a moment. I wanted him to get in bed with me, but I said nothing as I watched his eyes. I was leaving the decision up to him. If he suggested he was going to sleep on the couch, I would offer to drive him back to the bar. After a moment, without saying anything, he pulled the covers back and got in, too. I closed my eyes, and he moved closer. Maybe he wanted to stay. Maybe he knew that it was what I needed. He had

a knack for knowing what I needed. Either way, he pulled me against him and curled his body around mine like a question mark, making me feel like maybe I wasn’t just someone he would forget about the next day, after all.

Chapter Twelve When I woke up, I didn’t recognize the room, and for a moment I had no idea where I was. My head throbbed dully. I hadn’t been drunk last night, but the alcohol still took its toll. I turned my head, and Leah was asleep next to me, her blonde hair half over her face. She looked younger when she was sleeping; her blue eyes closed, a slight frown between her brows. Maybe she was dreaming about dead bodies again. I reached out a hand and brushed the hair out of her face. She sighed and smacked her lips slowly, but didn’t wake. I slid out of bed, trying not to disturb the covers and wake her. I padded barefoot across the room to the bathroom. It was a woman’s bathroom with lotions and all sorts of girly things everywhere. I used the toilet and splashed cold water on my face. I took some toothpaste on my finger and rubbed it on my teeth, so I was agreeable at least. There was nothing worse than morning breath. I turned around and inspected my back. There were

little red half-moons where she’d dug her nails into my skin during her orgasm. That had been hot as hell. Leah was good in bed, and it was evident that she’d been with a couple of guys before. Her innocence wasn’t fake, but it wasn’t complete, either. There was something about that which made her that much more interesting. I wanted to see her again. I wanted to do this again. And I was lucky that I had to see her again because she was the job. When I walked out of the bathroom, I gathered my clothes and began to pull them on, silently hopping about, so I didn’t sit on the bed and wake her. As I buttoned my pants, I noticed she was awake, her big blue eyes following me around the room. “Morning,” she said softly. “Hey.” I smiled. “Did I wake you?” She shook her head. “I’m an early riser, and I have

to go to work.” Right. It was Tuesday. Seeing her last night and going out and having sex had made it feel like a Friday night. “I need to get going, too.” She nodded and sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. She was shy now where last night she had been open and willing to bare it all. I’d loved that side of her, but there was something endearing about her shyness, too. It made me feel like the guys she’d been with had been lucky to have her. That included me. This girl wasn’t loose. I followed the trail of my clothes, adding each piece as I came across it. My shoes and socks were at the very bottom of the stairs where I didn’t remember taking them off. We’d both been caught up in each other. I pulled on the socks and shoes, as Leah was downstairs in a robe.

“You don’t want some coffee?” I shook my head. “I really have to get going.” “Can I give you a lift to your bike?” I shook my head again. I didn’t want to spend time with the domestic routine. I didn’t want to feel like I was a part of this little life. I wasn’t. I wanted to get out of here and report on my progress; treat it like the job it was. Leah nodded and came over to me. “Alright then.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the mouth—a quick, chaste kiss. Then she opened the front door, and I stepped out into the morning light. I turned around before I walked away and Leah stopped in the middle of closing the door, her incredible blue eyes looking at me with surprise. “I’d really like to see where you work,” I said.

“Do you think you could show me sometime? I’ll pick you up for lunch or something.” She smiled, and her face lit up like it was something she hadn’t thought I would ever ask. She thought about it for a second. “I would love to, if you really mean it.” I nodded. “I do. Call me,” I said, and waited until she fished the phone out of the robe pocket, then rattled off my number. When my phone rang, I answered it, then hung up. “I have your number.” She smiled again, and her dimples appeared. I realized that a part of her was just a very simple girl that needed acknowledgment. I smiled back, my grin spreading as she still held the phone, like she was expecting me to call, and waved before I turned and walked away. She waited until I was in the street before she closed the door. The other door opened, and an older woman stepped out in running clothes. She

glared at me. I wondered how much her neighbor had heard. I smiled at her as she glowered then turned and ran away from me. My phone rang, and I knew it was Butch before looking at the caller ID. I walked away from the Duplex in the opposite direction so there would be no way that Leah would hear me speak. “What the fuck have you been doing?” Butch asked. “I tried to get a hold of your ass last night, and you ignored me.” “I was working.” I thought about Leah. It had been a workout, at least. “Whale shit!” That was Butch-speak for he was skeptical. “I connected with the witness again, and she’s… warming up to me. I don’t think it’ll be long before I can use her to get access to the body. The tide is going out, so I’m going to go down to the beach

and see if the police tape is down. If it is, I going to have a look. I don’t expect to find anything, but maybe I’ll get lucky.” Butch grunted. “It’s about fucking time, you limp dicked motherfucker.” I grinned. It was nice to hear something positive from him for a change. “The Demon Aviators were in the Parrot last night.” “Those pig humping fuck waffles. You know we can’t touch them until we know for sure.” “If they start it, I’m going to finish it.” I wasn’t in the mood for games. The Aviators were first on my to-do list, and I didn’t mean it in a nice way. “If we don’t find Jonas soon, dead or alive, shit is going to start going down.” “I know. But we can’t touch the moose fuckers until we know for sure. You just do what you can and let me deal with the fucking politics,” Butch

sneered before hanging up. Dealing with politics was one thing, but the Aviators didn’t only work through their leaders, and if they were going to mess with any of us, I was going to “deal with politics” myself. I called up an Uber and smoked the last of my cigarettes while I waited. This early in the morning it took a little while before a battered Corolla rolled to a stop. The driver tried to engage me in conversation, but I wasn’t biting, and we rode in silence until he dropped me at the Parrot. I wiped the dew from the saddle of my Fat Bob and thumbed it to life. The tide was still going out when I arrived at the beach, but it was far enough out that the pool where Jonas had been found was visible. I pursed my lips, making a note of the fact that I had already tagged the body as Jonas. I parked well away from OIMB and left my leather

jacket and cell behind with the bike, and walked along the beach until I reached what would become the tide pool. The tape was gone. OIMB was just up the hill, but this was open beach, and I had as much right to be here as anyone else. The only reason I hadn’t already paid a visit is crossing police tape into an investigation scene would cause headaches I didn’t need if I got caught. But with the tape down, I was free to poke around. I spent twenty minutes wading up to my ass in cold Pacific water. I knew this was a long shot, but it had to be done. What the cops hadn’t picked over the ocean had probably already claimed. I wasn’t wrong. After feeling around and under every rock and outcropping, I couldn’t have been wetter if I’d fallen out of a fucking boat—all only to confirm there weren’t shit to be found. “Fuck!” I snarled as I sloshed my way out of the pool, shaking my arms to throw off as much water as possible. The ride home was going to fucking suck.

It wasn’t just the fact that we needed to get this wrapped up before a gang war started. It was also the fact that the more time I spent with Leah, the more she would fall for me. Her reaction this morning, when I asked about her work, showed she was hoping it was more than just a one-off kind of deal. I didn’t need her to get so attached that I couldn’t just dump her. Despite myself, I had developed a soft spot for her. Most people never found a dead body, and I didn’t want to fuck her up any more than she already was. I should drop her right now, before she got clingy, but I still needed her. I returned to my bike and checked my phone. Nothing. Butch must be busy bitching at someone else. I shrugged into my jacket, thumbed the hog into life, and roared towards home and some dry clothes. I’d dangled the bait earlier this morning. Now I was going to try to set the hook.

Chapter Thirteen There was something about Pax that was different than the big bad image he was trying to throw off. I’d seen it the first time, but I’d been very drunk. Last night I’d seen it, too, and I couldn’t help but feel that he was someone else besides the tough guy he showed everyone. I liked it. I liked the person he was when he was with me. He treated me like I was delicate, like the world could break me and maybe, just maybe, he would be there to protect me. Of course, I wasn’t going to get ahead of myself and assume this was going anywhere. We’d only known each other for a couple of days, and sex didn’t mean anything if it wasn’t backed up by other things. But he wanted to see where I worked. And it felt like we had some kind of connection. It felt like it could have the potential to be more. I’d slept well for the first time since I’d seen the body. I’d fallen asleep straight away with Pax’s

arms around me. I hadn’t seen the face, I hadn’t had nightmares, and I’d felt refreshed when I’d woken up. That was all something to me. A sign of sorts. Maybe Pax was in my life for a reason. It wasn’t coincidence that someone like him ran into someone like me. Our worlds just wouldn’t cross paths by accident. I wanted to see him more. I didn’t want to push it further than he wanted it to go, though. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was a clingy nuisance. I’d been a mess when he’d met me, and I wanted him to see that that wasn’t who I really was. I got in the shower. The hot water streamed over my body, and when I washed, I could still feel Pax between my legs. What remained of our night together washed down the drain. I dried my hair and got dressed. I was feeling pretty good but by the time I was ready to leave the nagging dread and the depression had all returned. I thought it would have been gone completely, but it had only been

dormant while I was with Pax. I felt like I was sinking back into the hopelessness and depression I’d been in the past couple of days. The fact that I couldn’t get away from this dark feeling scared me, and the only two ways I’d been able to deal with it so far had been with alcohol and sex. Was there no other way for me to deal with it? I didn’t want to become the same person I’d been before I’d moved here. I wanted to be able to deal with everything the right way. Maybe I did have to go see someone, the way he’d suggested. But I didn’t want to talk about my issues now because my issues were going to lead to my issues in the past and that was too much for me to deal with. There was no way I was going back there, not even in my mind. I’d managed to block it off, and I had been happy until that damn body had washed up and jarred my memories so that it was difficult to keep it all together again. I stepped outside, and the smell of the salt air

revived me a bit. I’d give a lot to have a house on the ocean, but homes with an ocean view cost a hell of a lot more than I could give, and I had to make do with the tang of the salt air a few miles in. I arrived at work with scant minutes to spare. I had no set hours, but OIMB did keep a loose check on their employees. Tuesday and Thursday’s were my lab days, and I busied myself with my tasks. It generally took a full day to run all my tests. I’d started them yesterday. I would finish them today then spend the afternoon analyzing the data I’d collected and entering it into my spreadsheet. It was the never-ending cycle—collect samples, analyze samples, record the results. Rinse and repeat. But a day and a half in the lab was more than made up for by the half-days I spent on the ocean collecting samples. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out. It was an unrecognized number. “Hello?” “Leah? Pax. Ready for lunch?”

“Today?” I asked in surprise as I glanced at the clock. It was approaching eleven. “Now?” “Well, not this minute. But say in thirty minutes. Is today not a good day?” I floundered, unsure of what to say, then grinned and decided to go with it. I could feel the creeping darkness recede a tiny bit. “No, today would be perfect. I’ll show you around afterward?” “Perfect. I’ll be there in thirty.” Before I could respond, he was gone. I stood, staring at the phone. I’d hoped he wasn’t blowing smoke this morning when he said he wanted to see where I worked, but to have him actually call, and the same day, made me smile. I realized I smiled a lot when I was around Pax, and that made me smile even more. I glanced at the clock again. I had thirty minutes to

finish piping the samples to check for pH, dissolved oxygen, salinity, suspended solids, and other tests to determine the health of the water. If I hurried, I could just finish before Pax arrived. I was pulling off my sterile gloves when the intercom chimed. “Leah? You have a visitor at the front desk.” “Be right there,” I said loudly so the box could hear me. I took a moment to check my look in the bathroom mirror then smiled. I couldn’t believe it, but I felt all tingly. I removed my worn and stained lab coat and hung it on the peg by the door as I walked out and hurried down the hall to the visitor entrance, lobby, and gift shop. I had seen him before he saw me. He was standing by the gift shop window in the lobby; hands in his pockets, as he looked over the knickknacks that OIMB sold as part of its fundraising. He’d changed since this morning and was wearing nicer jeans, a white shirt with a collar showing above his leather

jacket, and a pair of boots instead of his grimy sneakers. I glanced at Melanie, the receptionist, as I walked past and she glanced at me with big eyes. That’s right sweetheart, he was here for me. “Pax?” He turned and smiled at me before pulling me into a kiss. He kept it PG, maybe PG-13, but I felt it all the way to my toes just the same. “Ready?” he asked. “Sure!” I glanced over my shoulder and nearly snickered at Melanie’s slack-jawed amazement. She clearly couldn’t believe that me, the quiet chic that worked in the hydrology lab, had a total hottie picking her up for lunch. It was a glorious day outside; the sun was bright and the temperature perfect. Pax steered me away from the employee parking lot towards the visitors. “Where’re we going?”

“Lunch. A place called The Shipwreck. Heard of it?” “No, I mean my car is that way,” I said, trying to arc him toward the employee parking area. “Not taking your car.” “We’re not?” “Nope. My bike.” I began to dig in my heels. “I’ve never ridden a bike before,” I said, trying to slow him down, but he kept pushing me along with a hand on my back. “Well, in five minutes you won’t be able to say that anymore.” I swallowed hard but stopped resisting. I could feel my mouth drying out in apprehension, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. We arrived at a

sleek, black motorcycle and he handed me a helmet. I took it but didn’t know what to do with it. He noticed my hesitation and rolled his eyes as he grinned. “Jesus. Here,” he said as he put the helmet on my head then adjusted the strap. He then topped his own head with another one. “Wait until I get on,” he said as he swung a leg over. I’d never ridden a motorcycle, but I had ridden a horse, so I, at least, knew partially how to get on. “Let me ride the bike,” he said as the machine rumbled to life. “What does that mean?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. “It means, don’t help me. Just sit back there and let me do all the work. If you try to help, I’ll have to adjust for you shifting your weight around, and that’ll make for a wobblier ride. So just let me do

it, okay?” “I’m not doing anything!” He chuckled and stomped the bike into gear before pulling away in a roll of thunder. When we pulled into The Shipwreck, or the Wreck as the locals called it, I’d felt like I’d been flying. It was like being out on the boat, but without the wet feet. I felt alive and renewed in a way I had only felt when it was just the ocean and me. I stepped off the bike and couldn’t stop smiling. “You liked?” he asked with a grin. “I liked!” He led me in, and we were quickly seated. I’d eaten here several times and soon selected my entrée. “Thank you for calling me for lunch.” He shrugged then grinned. “It’s a bribe.”

I smiled back, the darkness from this morning a distant memory. He was like a balm on my tortured soul. Whenever I’m in his presence, the darkness from my past couldn’t reach me. “A bribe? For what?” “To show me around.” “You don’t have to bribe me for that.” Hell, I’d bribe him to let me show him around. Having Pax on my arm would do my reputation at work good. I frowned. “I don’t even know your name.” “What do you mean? Of course you know my name.” “Pax? That’s your name?” He grinned, and I felt a tingle. He was so damn fuckable. “Pax is short for Paxton. Paxton Parker.” I couldn’t help but giggle then quickly choked it off out of fear of offending him. His easy grin became

a full-on smile. “Now you know why I go by Pax. Paxton Parker sounds like the alter ego of some comic book superhero.” I loved his selfdeprecating humor. He could be serious when he needed to be, but he could also be fun. “Is Leah your full name?” “Yeah. Leah Clauson Tennyson. Clauson was my mother’s maiden name.” And just like that, with the thought of Mom and home, the darkness slammed down around me. I struggled to throw it off, but the harder I pushed against it, the more tenacious it seemed to become. We ate, and I tried to hold up my end of the conversation, but it was a struggle. I hated feeling like this but I was powerless against the darkness, and even Pax’s calming influence wasn’t enough to drag me back out. Our meal finished, and we returned to OIMB. The bike ride helped, helped a lot, but I could still feel the darkness nibbling at the edges of my conscious.

I showed him around the lab, and a little bit of the rest of the institute, but I was just going through the motions. My lab was at the back of the building, overlooking the ocean and the dock where the Institute’s boats were tied up. When we returned to the lab, he looked out the window at the surf as it rolled into the beach. I used to spend a lot of time staring out those windows, but not so much now, since not only could I see the dock and the ocean beyond, but also the area of the beach where… I shoved the thoughts away before they could drag me deeper into the darkness. “I need to go,” Pax said, and I could read the disappointment in his voice. “I’m sorry.” He came to me. “For what?” “For being a Debbie Downer.”

I saw his jaw tighten as he gave his head a gentle shake. “You need to start letting this go.” “I can’t.” “You can. You just have to do it. I don’t know what happened to you back in Indiana, but this has nothing to do with that. It was just a body. A shock. I’m sure. But it’s time to let it go.” “I can’t!” I cried, and I could feel the tears coming. I knew he was right and that he was trying to help me, but I couldn’t just turn it off like a switch. If I could, I would have long ago. He nodded then gave me a gentle kiss. “You can, but it’s only something you can do.” I nodded and fell into his embrace. He held me for a moment then stood me up on my feet again. “I have to go,” he said softly. He gave me another quick kiss, a smile, and a gentle touch on my cheek

before he walked out. As the door swung slowly closed, I wondered if I would ever see him again. I worked for the rest of the day. The work was getting done, but the joy of it was missing. I was so fucked up. I knew Pax was right; I needed to let it go, but I couldn’t. It haunted me, as Indiana had haunted me, and that was six years ago. If I could let it go, I would. I finished my tasks and closed up the lab. Tomorrow I would be on the water, and that would give me a measure of peace. But that was tomorrow. I needed help now. I returned home, and I remembered last night. I smiled to myself, recalling the comfort I’d found in Pax’s arms. Without thinking, not wanting to give myself the opportunity to talk myself out of it, I dug my phone out of my purse and pressed redial.

The phone purred in my ear. I was about to end the call when Pax answered. “Leah? You okay?” “Are you busy?” I asked. “I’m just finishing up with something. Why?” “Can I meet you?” He hesitated, and I took it as a no. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, trying to extricate myself. “I was…” I trailed off because I had no idea what I would do instead. He was quiet for a moment longer, and I was considering ending the call when he spoke again. “No, it’s okay. Why don’t I meet you somewhere? Or you can come here?” “Where’s here?”

“My apartment.” I didn’t hesitate. “If that’s okay?” “No, that would be great.” He gave me the address as I told him to wait while I found a notepad and pen and scribbled it down. “I’ll see you soon,” I said then ended the call. I stood in my living room; phone in hand and wondering what the fuck I was doing. This wasn’t me! I shook myself and started to call Pax back and call everything off, but I wavered. I grabbed my temples in both hands, pressing hard, trying to squeeze the poison out of me, the phone digging into my skull on the right side hurting me so good. I slumped and went upstairs and changed into something different—lacy lingerie that was still left over from my “dirty days,” a top that showed off some cleavage, and pants so tight they looked

painted on. I knew I was spiraling back into the same place I used to be, but I needed this. God, I sounded like an addict. I was relying on sex and alcohol to pull me through, and without my next fix, I wasn’t going to make it. I could feel my memories haunting me, hanging just over my shoulder, ready to drown me in darkness. And my drug, my answer, was a man that was nice to me. It was twisted and fucked up, but it was the reason I had to go and do it. I had to go and see him, just one more time, and after that, everything would be okay again. I just needed to get out of this slump by having him burn memories out of me with the heat of passion. I wasn’t addicted. I was just being logical. I was doing what I had to so I could survive, and right now, my survival depended on Pax.

Chapter Fourteen When my phone rang, I expected it to be Butch. Things weren’t going the way I wanted. There was only one witness, and she was totally fucked up. I’d take her to lunch, and I was going to pump her for information, then use her as an in to find out what the cops knew about the body. I had her. I had her eating out of the palm of my fucking hand. She was ready to do anything for me. Then she told me her name, and I shut down. Her fucking name. After that, she had closed off. I’d tried to keep it going, tried to be charming and understanding, tried to draw her out, but she’d totally kicked me in the nuts. I had been this close, but now had nothing I could bring to the table and I was afraid my value to the club was being brought into question. I understood it, of course. If I was in charge, and someone else didn’t deliver, I would have been the same way about it. It was a problem, though, when I was the one on the chopping block.

But it wasn’t Butch, and I relaxed for a moment… until I recognized the number. Leah. I wasn’t the type to cling to conventions. I was all for a woman calling the shots if she wanted it. Leah just didn’t seem like the kind of woman to do that. Everything about her screamed innocent, and she demanded respect. The fact that she was phoning me was out of place. Of course, that didn’t mean I was going to tell her no. I looked around my apartment after she hung up. It was a fucking train wreck. I had two piles of clothes in my bedroom; one for dirty clothes and one for clean. There were empty pizza boxes and takeout containers on my coffee table and empty beer bottles on the counters in the kitchen and on the floor around the couch. I didn’t bring people home; I liked being anonymous in a way, letting them only see the person I wanted them to see. Cleaning was a waste of time that didn’t further my cash flow or my reputation.

I hauled a trash bag full of takeout boxes to the dumpster and chucked them in, tossing another sack of the bottles into the recycling bin that squatted beside it. There was no time to do anything about the clothes in the bedroom, so I chucked them all into the closet floor and shut the door, then put the few dishes I’d used into the washer. The place wasn’t clean but looked better than before. My place wasn’t classy the way her place was, but I wasn’t a woman. Maybe I would be able to distract her from my apartment by getting down and dirty with her. God knew she was a wild cat in bed and I wanted to get into her pants again and again. Although, judging by how she sounded, I wasn’t sure that was going to happen. She’d sounded like she needed advice and a shoulder to cry on rather than a mind-blowing orgasm. Which was a damn shame, because I was particularly gifted at the latter. I could just picture what I would do to her. I wanted her body beneath mine, my cock between

her legs. Or she could be poised over me, her hair on my chest or on my thighs. I could still conjure up the feel of her skin under my fingertips and the taste of her in my mouth. A knock on my door ripped me back to the present, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. My erection throbbed in my pants because of my fantasies, so I tugged at it, trying to make it less obvious. I needed to play the part—be the best friend that would listen to problems instead of the badass with a sex drive. I cleared my throat and opened the door. The girl that stood in front of me was not what I’d expected. I’d expected an emotional mess— someone that needed to cry about her problems. Someone that I was going to have to patch back together long enough for me to use. Instead, she was sex on a stick. Her breasts were practically begging me to free them from her shirt

and the way her ass moved as she stepped inside made me throb. She smiled as she passed and I wanted her to use her red and luscious lips for things other than speaking. “Thanks for letting me come over,” she said. She stood in the middle of the room and looked at me with those eyes. I wanted all of her, and I wanted her now. “Are you okay?” I asked as I shut the door, my voice a little hoarse. She swallowed and nodded. I was grateful she didn’t have any news to share with me because I wouldn’t have caught any of it. I wanted her body, not the information she could share. She took a step closer. Her pupils were dilated, and her lips were slightly parted. I let my eyes slide down the open neckline where the swells of her breasts moved up and down as she breathed. God, this was pure torture.

“What?” she asked, and I forced myself to look her in the eye again. “Nothing.” Civil. I had to be civil. She was the game, not what she could give me. She smiled. It wasn’t the sweet, shy smile I’d seen on her before. This was a devilish smile; the kind of smile women used when they knew they were going to get exactly what they wanted. She put her hand on her neck under her hair and slid it slowly down, trailing her fingers over her own collar bone, down the line of her shirt and almost between her breasts before she dropped it again. It was a come on. She wanted me. At least, I hoped that was what she’d had in mind because she was pushing me over the edge and I wasn’t going to control myself for much longer. It wasn’t about whether I could or not. I didn’t want to. I have been prepared to give her a shoulder to cry on, but now I wanted to give her something else.

We were stuck in a moment where time stood still, and we stared at each other. This was do or die. Either, I stepped toward her and took what I considered mine, or I turned away and treated her like the helpless victim instead of the sex bomb. She made the decision for me. She stepped up to me, her body pressed against mine, and kissed me. She clearly knew what she wanted and when she licked my lower lip, I took over. I pushed my tongue into her mouth and buried my fingers in her hair. I curled my hands into fists, keeping her right there where I wanted her. She moaned into my mouth, visibly turned on by me taking control. It was all I needed to hear. I let go of her hair with one hand and pushed my hand under her shirt. I wanted her. I wanted all of her. I found her breast, pulled the cup down and took her nipple between two fingers, pulling and tugging at it. I kneaded her breast, hard. It was a perfect size—fitting into my hand like she was

made for me. I ground my hips against her, pressing my erection against her hips, telling her with my body what I wasn’t going to say in words. I was going to fuck her. I spun her around and pressed her against the closest wall. This wasn’t the first time I had her up against a wall. She lifted one leg as if it was automatic and I held her thigh, helping her keep it up. It was all dry sex with both of us still dressed, but the friction through my pants, when she rubbed her crotch against my cock, drove me crazy. My breathing was hard and erratic, matched by hers. I pulled her shirt up and over her head, dropping it on the floor. She wore a sexy lace bra. I understood why women did the whole sexy lingerie thing. It was so that I would want them more. It worked. I kissed and licked down her neck all the way down to her breast.

I pulled both cups down and sucked on her nipples, licking and nibbling my way between the two. I glanced up at her. Her lips were parted, eyes closed, lost in what I was doing. I kissed further down her body, leaving a slick trail down her stomach. I pulled down her pants, and she wore a thong that matched her bra. She lifted her leg so that I could get rid of the pants altogether. I put my mouth over her womanhood, and she gasped. She was still wearing her thong, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel what I was doing. I moved my lips and my tongue against her until the material was soaked, more than it had been when I started. I hooked my fingers into the thong and pulled it down, exposing her. She was blonde downstairs as well, and it suited her. Everything about her was cute. I pushed my tongue in between her legs, sliding

into her slit, and she opened them, lifting one again and throwing it over my shoulder. She tasted fantastic, a mixture of sweetness and lust, and I licked her and sucked on her clit until she was squirming and my cock throbbed painfully in my pants. I wanted to be inside of her, but I wasn’t done yet, not until she orgasmed. It was building, too. Her breathing became more and more irregular, and she squirmed against my mouth, her stomach muscles clenching, and her hands in my hair. Her hips undulated, and she shuddered. She was close now, right where I wanted her. I pushed my fingers inside of her, and that sent her over the edge. She cried out, grabbing onto my head and pulling me hard against her. I felt her muscles contract and release. When I glanced up her face was frozen in a silent scream for a second before she gasped again and her body curled forward.

I let go of her and stood up. She was still wearing her bra. I unclasped it, and she was naked in front of me in all her glorious beauty. I had no prejudice. Women came in all shapes and sizes, and their sex was just as good no matter which way they came. But some women were just perfect, and Leah was one of those women. Her breasts and her ass balanced each other out perfectly, with a relatively flat stomach in the middle and those liquid blue eyes and parted lips to finish off the picture. I stared at her lips, put my hand behind her head and pulled her in for another kiss. My other hand fiddled with my buckle. I undid the buckle as well as the button, pulled the zipper down and only let go of her head to use my other hand to pull my pants down. My cock sprang free, hard and eager. Leah glanced down at it. I put my hand behind her neck and pressed down lightly, telling her what I wanted. She knelt, and I pulled my shirt off so that it

wouldn’t be in her way. I stood there, almost completely naked, my pants bunched around my ankles, when she opened her mouth and took me in. She looked up at me, and it was the picture I’d been fantasizing about. Her big blue eyes were beautiful, the pupils dilated, as her lips stretched around my cock that was more than halfway into her mouth. I took a mental snapshot for later. She moved her head back and forth, mimicking sex. Her tongue was hot against my shaft and fuck she knew what she was doing. She rolled her tongue over the tip, around the shaft and back to the tip as she pumped her head back and forth. I’d wanted her to suck me off for a while, but at this rate, I was going to have to stop her and move on to sex if I wanted to save my load. I held out for as long as possible, but the image of her on her knees, sucking my cock, her breasts in the background swaying with her movement, was too much for me.

I pulled back, and she released me with a pop. I took her hand and pulled her up. The couch was right there, but I wasn’t interested in walking around and getting on it. Instead, I spun her around so that her back was to me, put my hand on her hips to keep her in place and pushed her forward so that she was bent over. Her ass was a sight to behold. Beautiful and round. She didn’t protest my advances. I positioned myself behind her, and she put her hands on the back of the couch, supporting herself. I took my cock in my hand and pushed it against her ass, moving it up and down. She gasped in anticipation. I found her entrance, dripping wet and open for me, and I pushed slowly into her. She moaned all the way in to the hilt. Her breathing was hard. I pulled out again and pushed back in. The friction was fantastic. I pushed in harder, pulled out faster. She cried out in rhythm with my pumping; her ass jiggled, and her breasts

swung back and forth. It was the stuff of pornos, and it was all mine, right here in my own living room. It didn’t take me long before I was ready to come. I slowed down a bit, changed my pace, and tried to stretch it out for as long as I could. Which wasn’t very long at all—it’s hard to last when you’re busy doing what might be the hottest woman in town. I came soon after that, the orgasm building and then flooding through me, filling her up. She cried out when I did, making me think she’d orgasmed again, and her body contracted and convulsed around my cock, confirming that suspicion for me. I kept fucking her, grunting in pleasure, until I started getting soft. Leah was still bracing herself against the couch, with her head hanging down. She was a sight to behold, bent over like that, naked and spent. Her thighs glistened with our sex, and

she was breathing hard, making her breasts sway over so slightly. I helped her straighten out and turned her around so that she faced me. Her eyes were glazed over, and she had a lazy smile on her lips. “That was just what I needed,” she said softly. I leaned forward and kissed her again, and she melted into my arms. For a moment, the thought took shape in my mind that maybe I was getting in too deep. I couldn’t afford for her to get attached when I was going to get rid of her. But then she broke the kiss. “I hope you don’t mind that I came here to… use you.” I frowned, unable not to smile at the same time. “What are you talking about? If that’s you using me, honey, you can come every day.” She giggled and blushed, showing a glimmer of the

shy, self-conscious Leah I’d seen before today. It didn’t quite add up with her standing naked and sexed up in front of me. “I can’t stay long,” she said, after we stood together in awkward silence for a minute, and then started getting dressed. I watched her as she moved around, finding her clothes and pulling them on one by one as if she had a set order. She was leaving so soon? I couldn’t remember the last time a girl had been the one to run after sex. If this is what Leah was about then her and I were going to get along a lot better than I initially thought. This was a whole different side of her; a side I hadn’t even dreamed would exist. One thing was for sure, though. I was relieved she was in this only for the sex. I needed her to be detached that way. If she could be as detached and self-centered as I was, it would make my job much easier. It was best that she didn’t care for me

because the truth was I didn’t care for her. And a girl like the one I knew now was safe. The girl from before… well, an innocent woman like that shouldn’t be with a monster like me. I smiled as she shrugged into her shirt and flicked her hair. “Leah, I need—” I began. She was happy and strong, and now was the time to get what I wanted from her. “Shhh…” she whispered as she touched my lips with a finger. “Don’t ruin it.” She removed her finger and replaced it with her lips, then pulled back, smiled, and walked out without a backward glance. I watched her go, blinking, and unable to wrap my mind around what had just happened.

Chapter Fifteen I left after sex. I didn’t usually do a hit and run like that, but the truth was I felt embarrassed. Embarrassed and scared. Not due to Pax, of course. He was everything I could have wished for—giving me exactly what I needed and nothing else. I hadn’t wanted something emotional, something sensual, or to talk. I’d wanted dirty sex to help me forget, and he’d given it to me without making me feel like a whore. Still, afterward, I felt like an idiot. I felt like I’d pushed something too far. There was a time when I used sex to forget about the things that were wrong in my life. Sex with anyone willing, usually strangers, made me feel good about myself. I was sexy and beautiful, and I could control what I was going to get even when the world around me was slipping through my fingers. It was afterward, though, that I always felt like I’d done something wrong.

I didn’t exactly regret fucking Pax because it had been fantastic and it had done exactly what I needed it to do. I just regretted that I was slipping back into my old ways. At least I thought I had. It turned out I was wrong. The upside was the fact that Pax wasn’t too much of stranger anymore. I knew a hell of a lot more about him than some of the other men I’d slept with, and I was sure there was a lot he knew about me. This was more along the lines of friends with benefits, and it was the only reason I felt like I could forgive myself. There seemed to be a kind of caring between us, even when it wasn’t a hundred percent romantic. Pax had given me what I’d needed tonight, but he’d been so attentive the other times we were together. I was sure it wasn’t just all about sex for him. Rationalizing it made me feel better. He’d been willing to be there for me in so many ways. Tonight, he hadn’t rejected me, even though he

could have. He could have been the gentleman I knew he was, but instead, he’d played along and allowed me to use him for my own needs. Maybe I could rely on him to get me through this rough patch. He cared enough for that. The moment I’d walked into the apartment I could tell he was turned on by the way he’d looked at me. When I’d kissed him, he’d taken charge, and fixed everything that was wrong. By the time I got home I was on top of things again and ready to take on my life. I didn’t feel down and depressed like when I’d left. I got into the shower and as I washed, my hands gliding over my body, I remembered the evening, and it aroused me. My nipples tightened, and I could feel heat that had nothing to do with the water. I put my hands between my legs and, in the soap and wetness, I relived the night, my fingers busy until another orgasm rocked through me. I stood, allowing the water to pour over me until my strength returned, did a final rinse, then stepped out of the shower.

I got dressed in my favorite pajamas, the dark blue ones dotted with cartoon whales, dried my hair, and then padded down the steps to fix dinner. I moved about the kitchen, throwing together a stirfry as my body throbbed with the echoes of what Pax had done to me, and I smiled. I knew I was playing with fire. This was a very dark, very dangerous road. A road I had traveled before. I flopped onto my couch and turned on the television, flipping through Netflix until I found something interesting to watch while I ate. As talking animals frolicked on the screen, I played around with my food. I felt okay, and so long as I didn’t lose myself like I had before, I wouldn’t spin completely out of control. With Pax here to help, I didn’t have to keep running. I finished eating and watched the rest of the movie, then cleaned up the kitchen. It was still early, just past eight, but I could feel sleep tugging at me. I was relaxed, happy, and well fucked. I trotted back

up the steps and brushed my teeth before tumbling into bed, dragging my Kindle onto my lap for a little night time reading. I closed out the book I had been reading, a little something I sometimes read when I needed to scratch an itch so I could sleep, and opened the Grafton I was also reading. I’d already had my itch scratched tonight. The next morning, when I awoke, things were better. It was Wednesday, which meant I had to go out on the water, and that improved my mood even more. I was beginning to cope. Even when I walked past where I found the body, and the horror nibbled at the back of my mind as I passed, by the time I’d reached the lab it was forgotten again. My nerves were righting themselves, and it had taken less than a week. I was under no illusion that it was because of anything but Pax. He’d been there for me when I’d needed him in every way. First, he’d been a shoulder to cry on. Then he’d been just a friend, and then he’d fucked me good when I’d just needed

to take my mind off of things. I didn’t know how he knew, but somehow, he always gave me exactly what I needed. And he didn’t seem to mind doing it, especially the fucking part. I smiled at my own little joke and began to set up my sample run. By the time my workday was done, I was in such a good mood, that I called Abby to see if she wanted to meet after work. She’d seemed pleased that I asked, and commented on the cheer in my voice. I smiled as we agreed to meet at a coffee shop we liked for coffee and pastries. Fuck the calories, I was celebrating my return to normalcy. She was already there when I walked through the door and waved at me. I smiled, waved back, and made my way between the little tables. “Have you been waiting long?” I asked as I sat down. “I was just catching up with the news,” she said, putting her cell down on the table. Her tone

seemed a little odd, but I ignored it. I barely followed the news because it was all so depressing. Why can’t they report good news? Abby leaned back in her seat, and when a waiter came we both ordered coffee, and I added a sweet gibanica that I knew from experience was to die for. “God, what a day,” I said after the waitress left. “Work gets crazy, but lately it just feels like so much more.” Abby nodded and smiled. “I bet. You’ve had a lot on your plate.” I shrugged. I knew she was talking about the body I’d found but the whole thing was blissfully in the background and that’s where I wanted to keep it. “Have you seen Pax again?” she asked after a moment of silence. I looked up at her and smiled. “Yeah,” I drawled out, a smile coming easily to my

lips. She studied my face for a moment. “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a crime to sleep with someone.” “Sleeping. As in you’re continuously doing it.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you involved with him?” I shook my head. The waitress returned with two cups of coffee and my pastry. I waited until she was gone again before I answered. “I’m not involved with him. We’re just… friends with benefits.” Abby snorted. “Yeah, because that works out so well for all parties involved, right?” I shrugged, tracing the hot rim of my coffee cup

with my finger. I knew what she was getting at. Usually, the woman got hurt in situations like this, but this wasn’t like that. Pax was different. He cared for me in a way no one had cared for me before. And what harm could a little bit of innocent fun do? Besides, I needed it. It kept the darkness at bay. “I’m worried about you,” she said. “Are you sure you’re doing okay? I mean after everything.” I nodded. “Everything’s fine. I don’t know how to put it, but… it’s like Pax distracts me.” It was the wrong thing to say, of course. Abby raised her eyebrows. “Relationships like this never last. You know that, right?” I laughed, and it felt good to break the tension. “It’s not a relationship. We’re just friends.” “With benefits. You said.”

I could tell she didn’t approve, but I didn’t care. She didn’t know what I needed. “We talk too, you know? And we get along. He’s sweet and sensitive, and he knows how to read me. It’s not just sex.” Abby looked incredulous, but I didn’t have to justify my actions to her. I was a grown woman, and I could make my own decisions. Granted they weren’t always the best decisions, but I wasn’t in bad hands with Pax. He wasn’t the type of guy that would just exploit a woman, no matter how rough he looked. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.” I grinned at her as I popped a bite of pastry into my mouth. Abby was a good friend, and she worried about me. “I’m doing fine, in fact, better than fine.” Abby smiled back. “Good. Did I tell you I was flying down to LA?”

“No. Really?” I asked, glad to have something to talk about other than me. We talked for a while as she told me she was interviewing for a position with a modeling firm. We talked and giggled over our coffees, and it was like old times. We were sipping in companionable silence when the conversation of two older ladies, who were sitting at the next table, carried over to us. “They found another dead body,” one said. “Can you believe it? I don’t know what this place is coming too!” I continued to sip the hot black liquid, giving no indication that I’d heard, but I was listening to their conversation now. “I saw that! Found him at the gas station just around the corner, right?” The second woman shook her head in sorrow. “Can you imagine,

getting killed in a gas station bathroom.” “Leah?” Abby said. “You okay?” I sat my cup in the saucer, and it rattled slightly as my hands shook. “What?” “Are you okay? You suddenly went pale. What’s wrong?” “Did you know they found another head body?” I asked softly. Abby’s face became cloudy. “Yeah. This morning. But that has nothing to do with you,” she hissed urgently. “People get killed all the time. I bet dozens of people are murdered every day in a big city.” “This isn’t a big city, Abby. This is Coquille, Oregon, population, what, twenty-five thousand?” “So?”

“So, two murders in a week?” “So? It has nothing to do with you! Stop it!” I stared at her a moment then turned to my purse and pulled out a ten and dropped it on the table as I rose. “Where’re you going?” “Home.” “Leah!” Abby cried as she grasped my hand. “Don’t do this.” I pulled my hand out of hers. “I’m okay, but I have to go. Thanks for meeting me.” I walked away. Abby called after me, but I kept going, struggling to bite back the tears. I knew I was being rude, but I couldn’t have a breakdown in the shop or around her. I had to be on top of things.

I looked over my shoulder as I stepped outside. Abby sat in her seat, her arms folded over her chest in a defensive pose, her face a mixture of fear and annoyance. I barely made it to my car before I started crying. I didn’t know why it was getting to me so badly. Abby was right; it had nothing to do with me. I hadn’t even seen the second body, but death seemed to follow me. I couldn’t escape it. It had lost me for a while, but it had found me again. I managed to drive home, and when I got there, I tried to distract myself. I turned on the television only to turn it off again. I picked up my phone to call someone, anyone, but put it down again. I couldn’t see anyone. Not Abby, not even Pax, not this time. I heard the rumble of a motorcycle passing, then a moment later, the doorbell rang, and I looked up, ripped out of my world of misery. Abby had come to check on me. She wasn’t stupid. No matter how

hard I pretended to be okay, she knew better. She’d seen me like this before. I was relieved and horrified that she’d come. I didn’t want her to see me like this, but I didn’t want to be alone. Not now. I walked to the front door and opened it. Pax stood in front of me. He was smiling, but then his face fell. “Are you alright?” He sounded genuinely concerned. “Perfectly fine,” I lied. My makeup was smudged into big black circles, with streaks down my cheeks. He stepped into the house without me inviting him in. “What’s wrong?” “What are you doing here?” I asked. I was being rude, but I didn’t care. “I wanted to spend some time with you. I was going to ask you something. What happened?”

I started crying again. I couldn’t hold it back, and it made me feel like shit, but there was nothing to be done. Pax pulled me against him, rubbing my back like the saint I knew he was deep down inside. “I’m sorry.” I sniffed as the tears dried. “I’m a mess right now.” He held me at arm’s length and nodded. “I see that. Here, sit down.” He guided me toward the couch, and I did as I was told. Then he moved to the kitchen and began digging through my cabinets and pantry, finding what he needed to start the coffee. He took care of me the way you took care of someone that mattered. I mattered to him. I sat, staring at the floor, seeing my dad and the body wrapped in plastic where they weren’t, lost in my thoughts until he handed me a mug. It was warm when I wrapped my fingers around it, and it leached a bit of the cold from me. “Tell me what happened.”

His voice was soft but demanding. I swallowed some of the coffee, the burn from the hot liquid letting me know I was alive. I took a deep breath and blew it out with a shudder. “The first body was what set it all off.” He frowned. “The first body?” I nodded. “The one I found. But there’s another one.” He was still then nodded slowly as if he already knew. “I just found out. I don’t know if they’re related, but how can they not be?” I took another sip of the coffee. “I can’t deal with the bodies and the death.” “People die every day, Leah.” I took another deep breath. “I know, but not like this. Not violently. Not senselessly.” I paused then decided to keep going. “My father died when I was in college. He got pulled into a combine, and it nearly chewed his arm off before it jammed and

stalled. I’d come home for the weekend, and I was going to surprise him. It was the end of the day, and I drove out to the field to see why he wasn’t home for dinner, and I found his body. He was still stuck in the machine, and there was blood everywhere.” I could feel my heart being squeezed. “Why? Nobody could figure out why he’d done it. Why had he put his hand into a running machine? People said he was probably trying to clear a jam, but he knew better than that! How long had he been stuck there before he died? How much pain did he have to endure?” I looked at Pax. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were sympathetic. “I’m sorry.” I nodded and then shrugged. “Everyone said it was just a tragic accident. The farm hands had already left for the day. They said later that he was going to finish loading the grain truck before he drove it home so he could take it to the silo first thing in the morning. Everything was perfectly normal. Then…” I paused again, remembering the shock

and horror of finding him hanging under the machine by his destroyed arm. “People wanted me to go see someone about it, but I didn’t. Instead, I partied it away. And when it became too much for me I ran away to escape it all. Now… well, it’s all caught up to me now. The death. The bodies… I can’t.” We sat in silence for a while. I’d managed to escape from it, and I’d convinced myself I’d pushed it away far enough. It felt better now that I’d mentioned it, though. Talking about it seemed to help. It didn’t make it go away, of course, but it felt good to just get it out there. Pax nodded, got up without saying anything, and sat down next to me. He pulled me against his chest and held me there, protecting me from my own dark past.

Chapter Sixteen

I held her. A lot of this was my fault. Not directly, of course. I hadn’t planned it so that she would find the body. In fact, having her find it has been nothing but a pain in my ass. She was just an innocent bystander who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But everything else, that was because of people like me who didn’t care what the rest of the world did or felt or saw. If they stayed out of our way, we didn’t hurt them. Everything else didn’t matter. It was starting to matter now. I didn’t even care about this girl, not the way I was supposed to for all the effort I was putting into her. Men like me just didn’t do relationships. And apparently, girls like her just didn’t understand that. She thought I was a knight in shining armor and considering how many times I was in the right place at the right time, it was starting to ring true.

And it was enough to make me sick. I didn’t want to sit with a blubbering woman on my lap. I didn’t want to be involved with thoughts and feelings and all that crap. Guns, fists, alcohol and obligationfree sex were so much simpler. But with her delicate body sobbing up against my chest, I couldn’t help but wonder how I’d come to be that way. How had it happened that I didn’t give a shit about others at all? Leah was innocent and undeserving of someone else’s problems. She had so fucking many of her own. All that shit she’d just poured out about her dad, even for someone like me, that must have been a lot to handle. I knew how to shut myself off, how not to care too much if the person died, and how not to go to pieces when eventually, inevitably, they did. Leah wasn’t wired like that. She was raw and susceptible to pain. For the first time in my life, I labeled something that happened to someone as a crime of sorts. I stroked her blonde hair, and slowly her sobbing

stopped, her breathing evened out, and she just lay with her body against my chest, her head on my shoulder. The room was quiet all around us, the chirp of a bird every now and then outside the only thing breaking the silence. It would be dark soon. Leah was not someone who deserved darkness. I didn’t know what to do. I could hold her now; I could be nice, like I’ve been doing, but eventually who I was, and what I wanted, would come out. I wasn’t going to be able to keep up this act forever. After we’d had sex everything had seemed perfect. She’d drawn the line and made it all about sex and nothing else. I’d loved it then. I had arrived here, expecting her to still be bubbly and upbeat. I was going to get her to call the cops and ask about the body. A concerned citizen following up. Maybe, if she were in the mood, we’d have another tumble on sweaty sheets before I left. But I would have what I needed, and I wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. But this, with me comforting her, was me erasing that line and

making it about more again. I was the one that was jeopardizing this relationship and the direction it was heading. I was making it about companionship when I hated the damn word. I didn’t want companionship. I just wanted a fuck buddy and nothing else. Her breathing was slow and steady, and there was a calmness about her now that hadn’t been there since I’d walked through the door. I inched away enough to see she’d gone to sleep. I’d never seen a woman hysterical before, but she’d been so close I’d gotten nervous about what to do with her if she had a meltdown. This version of her, the one where she was in control, sort of, was easier to deal with. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, and with the other, I pulled her legs over mine, so she was half on my lap. I hooked my arm underneath her knees and grunted to my feet. I wasn’t going to wake her up. She needed the sleep. It was the only cure besides alcohol I could think of.

I carried her upstairs, struggling to get her feet past the banisters on the staircase and trying not to knock off pictures. I put her on the bed and pulled her shoes off before pulling a cover over her, hoping it was enough. I wasn’t going to undress her and put her in bed. I wasn’t a nurse, and it seemed wrong in any case. I stood with my hands on my hips, watching her for a moment. She looked concerned, even in her sleep. Her face had a slight frown on it, and her eyes moved like she was looking back and forth underneath her closed lids. I sat down on the bed again, the mattress dipping under my weight, and put my hand on hers. She relaxed immediately. This was what it was all about, wasn’t it? She did see me as a savior of sorts. I was in a hell of a lot of trouble. I wasn’t going to be able to get out of this one without hurting her, and pain was the last thing I wanted to cause her. It looked like I was going to have to stick around

for a while. The truth was, though, I still needed her help with the cops. I could stick around for a while longer if it were necessary. Just until she had it together and I had what I needed. It wasn’t weakness on my part; I was just doing my job. I got off the bed as slow as possible and let go of her hand. She didn’t lapse back into her restless state, and I was relieved I could leave without feeling guilty. I turned around and walked out of the room, making my way back downstairs and letting myself out. She would be okay. I wasn’t abandoning her. If I cared for her anymore, I might start believing the illusion that I cared about her, and that was dangerous. I would take care of her and protect her until she had her shit back together. And once she did I was going to get what I needed and then carry on with the life I knew. A life without tears and emotion. A life where the only thing that mattered, the only

thing pledged, was my loyalty to the VCMC. What had I told myself earlier? This wasn’t weakness. And it was going to stay that way. I wasn’t going to let it get in my way. I just had to keep telling myself that this was all about avenging a death, preparing for war, and walking away victorious yet again. That was what it was all about. Only that. I stepped out of her house and quietly shut the door, giving the knob a twist to make sure it locked. I paused and decided to give it a shot. I spent a moment finding the coroner’s office number and then gave them a call. “I’m calling to find out if the body of Jonas Brandt’s body has been released.” “And you are?” the voice on the other end of the line asked.

“Paxton Park. I’m his brother. Well, half-brother,” I added in case he picked up on the difference in last names. “Just a moment.” I leaned on my bike a moment and smoked a cigarette as I listened to dull on-hold music. “I don’t show that we have, or ever had, a Jonas Brandt. This is the Coos County office. Are you sure you have the right office?” “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought I was calling Curry Country. My mistake. Sorry to bother you.” I hung up. “Shit.” I drummed my fingers a moment. “Fuck it.” I dug through the note feature on my phone until I found Detective Reynolds number. I was either going to get my answer, or I was about to potentially screw over my only chance to get my answer, but I was out of options and out of time.

“Detective Sergeant Reynolds.” “Detective Reynolds. I’m Clive Tennyson, Leah’s father. I’m calling to follow up on the body that she found. Has it been identified yet?” “Just a moment, Mr. Tennyson,” Reynolds said, and I heard the thump as the phone was set aside. I sweated a moment then Reynolds returned. “No. We’re still investigating.” “So, nothing?” “Not at this time. No matches on the prints, and we’re still waiting on dental records and blood work. This is a tough one, Mr. Tennyson. No clothing and no ID, and being in the ocean, are making it difficult to identify the body. He doesn’t closely match anyone on a missing person’s file. How’s Leah doing? She was pretty shaken up.” “She’s hanging in there, but it would be a load of

her mind if she knew the body had been identified.” Reynolds sighed. “I suppose I can see that. Unfortunately, I don’t have any good news.” “Thank you, Detective. I’m sure you’re doing all you can,” I said and then ended the call. “Fuck,” I muttered. I dialed Butch’s number. I needed to find out if Jonas had ever been picked up and fingerprinted. If he had, the lack of a hit on the fingerprints would mean the stiff wasn’t Jonas. That was something at least.

Chapter Seventeen When I woke up, I was in bed with my clothes on, and I felt horribly empty, like something had been there and it was taken away now. I rolled onto my back and looked at the ceiling, my emotions raw. I remembered everything—the news of the dead body being found just around the corner from where I was enjoying a coffee with Abby, my breakdown, Pax arriving and sitting with me until I fell asleep. He must have tucked me into bed before leaving. I was sad that he’d left. I would have liked for him to stay because he made me feel safe and calm when he was around. I knew it was ridiculous to think that he could ward off the bad things that have been coming my way, but it still felt like he could protect me. I was being silly. I was relying on him to keep me safe from something he couldn’t possibly fight. My demons were my own. I threw my arm over my

eyes and sighed. God, I’d told him about my father. No one knew that I’d been the one to find him other than my family and friends back in Indiana. It was something I hadn’t told anyone. Not even Abby. But now Pax knew. In a way, though, I didn’t exactly regret telling him. Maybe he wouldn’t think I was such a weirdo for getting so worked up over a dead body. Sure, it was traumatic to find a body, it would be for anyone, but it hadn’t been anyone I’d known. It shouldn’t have gotten to me so badly, but it had because of Dad. I got up, showered and got dressed. I didn’t want to go to work. I didn’t want to face the people there and try to pretend to be fine when the truth was I wasn’t. I stopped and stared at the door, dreading opening it, dreading going outside. I couldn’t do it. I had to search for my phone and finally found it under the couch… dead. I plugged it in and let it charge a moment before I called in sick; claiming I had food poisoning. Maybe I did. I

felt sick in my stomach, but I knew in my heart that it was just me working myself into a frenzy again. I was sitting on the couch, watching but not seeing some stupid show about brothers sleeping with their sisters or some stupid shit, when the doorbell rang. I froze. What if someone from the office had come to check up on me? What if I was in trouble for lying? Or worse… what if it was Pax? I didn’t know how I was going to face him. He had to think I was insane for first throwing myself at him and then having an emotional breakdown. The doorbell rang again, and then there was a pounding on the door. I couldn’t hide out and pretend not to be here because my car was outside. “Leah! Open the door, or I’m calling the cops! Leah!” Abby yelled as she pounded on the door again. I sighed and got up, walking to the front door. When I opened it Abby stood there, looking

concerned, angry and relieved all at the same time. “For God’s sake! Where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering you phone? Are you okay?” She shoved her way into my house and slammed the door. “I’ve been worried sick!” “I’ve been here,” I said softly. “Here? In your house? You didn’t go anywhere?” “No.” “I tried to call you yesterday, twice, and again this morning, and you didn’t answer. I even came by and rang your bell. Why didn’t you answer the door?” “Phone was dead,” I muttered. “I was sleeping. I didn’t hear the door.” “Jesus Christ, Leah. What’s wrong with you?”

“What?” “You know fucking what!” “You don’t know shit!” I shouted. “You don’t know what I’ve been through!” “I know enough. I know your dad died, but that was five fucking years ago. I thought you’d let that shit go. It’s time to let it go! The guy you found has nothing to do with your dad, and the guy yesterday has even less. You didn’t even see him. You need to get your shit together, girl.” I glared at her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve never had to deal with it.” “You’re right. I haven’t. But everyone dies. One of these days, my parents are going to die, and I’m going to have to deal with it. It’s time you start dealing, Leah. For your own good.” “It’s not that easy!”

Abby got up and moved to my kitchen and began putting the coffee on. “I never said it was easy. I said it was time for you to start dealing with it.” “I’m trying!” “How? By locking yourself in your house? Skipping work? Not answering your phone?” I glared at her. My logical side knew she was making sense, but my emotional side was digging in, not wanting to let go of the pain that had defined me for so long. “I’m doing the best I can. I don’t know what else to do.” I looked down, ashamed of myself, but at the same time, unable to change. “I thought I was past this. I thought moving to Oregon had let me move on. Then, when I found that guy, it all came back. Then—” “That has nothing to do with you!” Abby repeated firmly.

“Then,” I said, emphasizing the word so she’d let me finish, “just when I start to get over that, another body turns up less than a block from where I was sitting.” “So? Would you feel better if it had been a mile away?” “Maybe,” I snapped. “I feel like death is following me. Everywhere I go, death is there, waiting for me.” “Don’t be stupid. You know that’s not how it works,” Abby said as she waited for the coffee to brew. “I know, but it’s how I feel. The only time I forget about it is when…” I stop, not wanting to finish the thought. “What?” “Nothing.”

“On, no,” Abby said, pouring some coffee into two cups. “Finish what you were going to say.” She brought me a cup and sat down beside me. “What makes you forget about it?” “Pax.” “The biker guy?” “Yeah,” I said as I took a sip. “You need to be careful,” Abby said, and I rolled my eyes. I was old enough to know what I was doing. “Of what? Him?” I would be able to tell if someone was trouble, right? I had more than enough experience to know. And I knew that in a way he was trouble but who was Abby to tell me I was making a mistake when all I was trying to do was to forget? I had all the

arguments in place. I was ready to fight with her about it. I was ready to tell her where to shove her opinion. “Of your heart, Leah. I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re looking for something, what I don’t know, but I don’t want you to make your problems worse by making a mistake.” It was caring. It was kind. It was nothing I’d expected. It took the wind right out of my sails, and I deflated. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted in a soft voice, even though I wasn’t sure exactly what I was talking about. “Don’t fall back into the spiral where you think giving yourself away is going to make it all better. That’s never the answer.” I hated it when she made so much sense. “I like how I feel around him, though. And it’s not just about his charm or his game or anything. He makes me feel safe. Do you know how long it’s been

since I’ve felt safe?” Abby nodded. “Okay, but is it the same for him? If you’re not on the same page about this, and all he’s doing is playing Dr. Phil to get into your pants, you’ll get hurt. It won’t matter then what you got out of it initially. It will matter how many pieces you need to pick up afterward.” Ugh, more sense. I nodded. She was right, of course. I knew she was. And I knew I was spiraling again into a dark place that I’d fought to get out of. I wasn’t fighting by myself to get out of it. Instead, I was leaning on Pax. I nodded in defeat. She was right, and I was going to have to start sucking it up. “Thank you for coming over today,” I said. “Of course. It’s what friends do. That, and the fact you scared the shit out of me yesterday.”

“What about work?” “No shoots today.” We sat in silence for a while. This was what friends were for. I needed to rely on people like her instead of people like Pax until I got my shit together. I couldn’t justify that, though, because the truth was he’d been doing the same thing. He’d been going out of his way to be there for me. A lot of the time it hadn’t even been about sex. Abby was wrong. He wasn’t just in it for the sex. His looks were deceiving. He was a leather-clad, inked-up biker with an arrogant walk and a melt-into-your-panties smile, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be genuine. I was willing to believe that. If I wanted to put my trust into someone, it would be Pax. He was around often enough. Abby was right about looking after my heart, but the truth was, I was numb by now. The only time I knew how to feel again was

when Pax was with me. That counted for something, didn’t it?

Chapter Eighteen I spent most of the day running down leads on the other stiff that had turned up. I came up just as dry has I had on the first. It was time to check in and face the music. Our meeting place was an old club that no one had thought about visiting since the eighties. That is until we bought it and turned it into our headquarters. It was an old building just outside of town, and everyone left us alone. I liked spending time at the club. The guys were all my kind of people, the only people I could trust in the world, and the place was rundown enough not to make me feel like I was out of place. Butch and a couple of the others were already at the club when I pulled up and parked my bike in the line of bikes that were already waiting for their owners to finish. It was a sight to behold; all leather and chrome with an undercurrent of badass. I heard the chatter emanating from inside, and the

light that shone through the dirty windows was like welcoming someone home. I walked in through the door, and the chatter died down as if they were talking about me. I didn’t like it when people did that. I paused for just a moment, feeling the silence and the tension in the air, and walked to stand next to Butch. “About fucking time you dragged your fucking ass in. Do you want to tell us where the fuck you’ve been?” Butch said. I eyed him. It felt like he was trying to put me on the spot in front of the others. “I told you. I have an in with the woman who found the body.” He nodded slowly. “You said that. You keep telling us that. It’s all you keep saying. We’re wondering if you have something new.” I took a deep breath and blew it out. I knew what he was after. I knew it looked bad. “She’s a little

more tight-lipped than I would have liked. The police haven’t identified the body. I don’t know about the second one yet.” That wasn’t entirely true. She’d told me everything she knew, which wasn’t much at all. She’d also told me other things; things that made me realize how close all of this was to her. I wasn’t going to tell them that, though. That would make it sound like I cared, which I didn’t. It would make it sound like she meant something to me, which she didn’t. “Goddamn limp dick pigs! They’re not worth shit! Work your fucking magic, Pax. You’re our info man for a reason.” I nodded. I was their go-to guy for Intel for a reason, but this time it was a little trickier. I couldn’t imagine how much harder it would have been if I cared for real. I kept on telling myself that it wasn’t serious and I was determined to believe myself, too.

Butch looked back at the others, and it was as if they’d agreed on something without me and they were deciding if they should tell me or not. It was starting to piss me off. I didn’t like being left out of the loop. I was part of this club, and they had to tell me what was going on, dammit. They had to keep me informed. It would be ironic if the guy who got all the Intel didn’t know jack shit about what went on behind the scenes. “There’s been more,” Butch said. I looked at him. He wasn’t looking back at me. He was staring out at the others as if he wasn’t telling me. “More?” “Brothers missing.” I’d known about at least one more. Another body had been found, and it had made the news. “How many?”

Butch shrugged. “Three more.” “That means there are at least two more bodies waiting to be found.” Butch nodded. The bodies turning up was a sign. One could be an accident, and two a coincidence, but once there were more it pointed to a serial killer, which this town was too small and unimportant for, or an MC that was trying to gain some ground. And dead bodies were right up the Demon Aviators alley. “So what do we do?” I was the one asking, but we all knew what this meant. It was a call to action. It was their business card, and they were recruiting. Which meant that we had to step in to stop this carnage and protect our turf. This was turning into a full-on gang war. There was going to be a lot of bloodshed. I liked a good fight as well as the next biker, but unnecessary death didn’t sit well with me any more than it sat well with anyone that bore

a conscience. I looked at Butch and then at the others who had started talking among themselves. We had to start looking out for our own now. Who knew who would be next? Jonas had already been first, and that made it damn personal. We already had our backs up. If they wanted a war, they were going to get it for sure. The rest of the gang got up, and we formed a circle. Butch appointed them all to areas where they had to keep a look out for suspicious activity. We had to keep checking in with each other. Butch wanted me to report directly to him. I couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t trust me. When the others finally left, I hung back to speak to Butch alone. He glanced at me and looked irritated with my presence. “What the fuck do you want?” His tone of voice was just as hostile as his expression.

“I wanted to talk to you about your reporting list.” He jutted his chin up, the only way I knew he wanted me to keep going. He looked like he wanted to get rid of me. I shuffled from one foot to the other, clenching and unclenching my fists. My palms were sweaty. I didn’t know how to say what I wanted to say but somehow I had to get it out there. I had to man up to it. I was a biker with a quick mouth and a heavy fist. “I noticed you want me to report directly to you.” He looked at me with a blank expression. “So the fuck what? You report to me all the fucking time, just like all these other motherfuckers.” I nodded. “I don’t feel like you trust me anymore.” His mouth went hard. “Why do you think that, shit

waffle?” He was being sarcastic. It didn’t suit him. “Goddammit! What’s your problem with me?” Butch turned his back on me and walked away. The only reason I let it slide and didn’t act on the anger it coaxed to life inside of me was because he was technically my superior; he was already unhappy with me, and if I got kicked out of the Venom Chasers I had nothing. But it had been very close. I’d almost opened my big mouth and made a snide comment. “You haven’t given us jack-shit, Pax,” Butch said as he stopped at the bar and poured a splash of Wild Turkey into a glass. “You’re out dicking around, disappearing for hours, sometimes a day at a time. And you still haven’t given us shit.” I frowned. “There has to be something to find before I can find it.” Butch raised his eyebrows. “A motherfucking

week, Pax. You’ve been fucking around with this bitch for a fucking week, and you still don’t know shit. I don’t care if you fuck her or slit her fucking throat. Stop fucking around with her and find out what she knows. Don’t forget why you’re here and who you are to this club, Pax.” “Is that a threat?” “It’s not a threat. It’s a fucking warning. I can only protect you if you’re one of us and truly committed. That’s not what I’ve been getting from you anymore. If shit turns ugly, and it’s going to, you’re going to want everyone at your back that you can get.” I swallowed my words because I understood what he was saying. I didn’t agree, I felt like I could have my own life, but he was right. I needed them at my back if we were heading into a gang war. The one sure-fire way to die was to be the lone ranger when the streets weren’t safe.

Butch looked at me long and hard, waiting for me to contradict him. I didn’t. Eventually, he nodded. “I see we have a fucking understanding,” Butch said, his voice thick and deep. Butch shoved past me, and I was alone in the clubhouse; the clubhouse that suddenly seemed depressing. Leaving me alone, he was making a point. Without him, without the club, I was going to be in a fight without anyone alongside me. “Fuck ‘em,” I muttered as I walked out, slamming the door behind me.

Chapter Nineteen I woke up to the phone ringing. The sound pierced through everything. I’d been drinking again. Alone. At home. I was pathetic. I reached over and dragged the damn phone to my ear and pressed the button to accept the call just so that it would stop ringing. “Hello?” “Leah? This is James.” James was the human resources manager. I didn’t know him very well, but the fact that he was calling couldn’t be good news. “Yes?” It was better to pretend like I didn’t know what was going on. “How’re you feeling?” “I’ve been better.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie. There was silence on the line. It was loaded and

uncomfortable. “Leah… you’ve missed three days’ work, and you didn’t call in after the first day. Are you… have you been to the doctor? We’re going to need a doctor’s note to excuse these absences.” “I know I haven’t come into the lab for a while.” “And you didn’t call in. Unless you have a doctor’s letter stating that you shouldn’t return to work, you’re facing disciplinary action.” He kept quiet, allowing me the time to answer. I had nothing to say. I didn’t have a valid excuse. Shit had happened, and I’d effectively checked out. When I didn’t say anything, James cleared his throat. “You need to come in, Leah. Put simply, if you keep doing this you’re going to lose your job.” His voice was soft and gentle; he was trying to lay it on me nicely, but the truth still hurt.

“Yes, sir.” “Good. We’ll see you in an hour.” I put the phone down. I had to get up, get dressed, and go into the lab. I had to pull myself back together again. I had to get my shit together and carry on with the life I’d built for myself. It was a good life. Shit happened to everyone. I was being ridiculous that I struggled to cope with it this much. It was just a body in a bag. It shouldn’t have gotten to me this much. The truth was, though, it did. I couldn’t just grin and bear it. I couldn’t swallow it and pretend nothing was wrong, go to work and do my chores with a smile on my face. I lay back down and pulled the covers over my head. I closed my eyes, and the throbbing headache dulled slightly. I wasn’t going to get up and shower. I wasn’t going into work. I was going to close my eyes and sleep until this mess, these nightmares, and the horror

that was my life, finally passed. If I lost my job… I could get a new one. People lost their jobs all the time. A piercing sound woke me up hours later, and I slammed my hand onto my phone on the bedside table, intending to refuse the call so that the shrill screaming would stop. When it didn’t, I squinted my eyes at the phone and realized it wasn’t ringing. The sound wasn’t from the phone but from my doorbell, and I was too confused to know the difference. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The clock told me I’d slept for four more hours. My headache was practically gone. If I’d known in a past life that ignoring reality cured hangovers, I would have done this ages ago. The doorbell rang again, and I was starting to get irritated with Abby because she just wouldn’t get the picture and leave me the hell alone. I pulled on a robe and raked my fingers through my hair,

hoping to make myself look at least half decent, but I didn’t check in a mirror to see if I succeeded. I opened the door, ready to tell Abby to mind her own business. I swallowed my words when I saw who it was. Mark Suttman himself stood on my doorstep. He was a big man with a strong jaw and dark hair. His eyes were the color of the ocean, which I’d always thought was fitting, and his hair had started to gray at the temples. “Mark.” I pulled my robe closed around me, aware that I wasn’t wearing something to face my boss in. “Leah,” he said in a voice that told me he knew. I sighed. I could handle disappointment from almost anyone in the world, but I didn’t want Mark to be disappointed in me. I stepped to the side so he wouldn’t be forced to stand outside, even though I was aware of the state my house was in. I hadn’t cleaned in ages.

“Want some coffee?” I mumbled as I closed the door. “No,” he said as he sat down on the couch. “I thought you were in Monterrey.” Mark nodded. “I came back early.” I wanted to ask why but I was scared that it would be because of me, so I didn’t. “I hear you haven’t been to the lab in a while.” I nodded without looking at him. I didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes. It was bad enough that I knew it was there. “I also heard what happened. You can’t run away from this. It’s nothing you did wrong, and you’re just giving it the power to ruin your life.” I dared to look up at him and regretted it. He wasn’t angry like I’d expected. He wasn’t even sympathetic, which would have been my next guess. There was pity on his face, and if there was one thing I hated in the world, it was pity.

“You have so much potential, Leah. I hate to see you throw it away. This person that’s sitting in front of me now isn’t you. The ocean is your passion. Don’t throw it all away.” I nodded. I wanted to tell him that yes, he was right, and no, I wouldn’t ruin my career. I wanted to admit that wasting my potential was a shame, but I couldn’t do what he expected. I couldn’t go back there. The sight of water was something that made me feel sick to my stomach now, the same way it had been when I’d seen all the places I used to love back in Indiana. The ocean was no longer my passion. The potential to work in the field of marine biologist had disappeared. Mark was sitting on my couch in vain. “I appreciate you coming,” I said when Mark finally got up. “Thank you for taking the time.” “Just take care of yourself, Leah. I’m willing to overlook this… but you have to talk to someone, and you have to return to work and do your job. I’ll

work with you, but you have to meet me halfway.” I nodded. “Thank you,” I whispered as I escorted him out of my house. When I closed the door behind him, I leaned against it with my shoulder and sighed. Mark didn’t understand. Of course, he wouldn’t. No one did. I knew I was going to lose my job, but the part that used to care so much had died along with my love and respect for the ocean. All that was left was a shell that looked and sounded like me. I shouldered myself off the door and trudged upstairs, dropping the robe to the floor as I entered my bedroom. The room smelled of sweat and desperation. I fell into bed and stared at the ceiling. I was coming apart, and I didn’t know how to hold myself together. The only time I felt anything was when I was with Pax. Paxton. Paxton Park. He was the only one who knew how to reach me, how to make me feel better.

I wanted to call him, to hear his voice… but I didn’t want him to see me like this. Maybe I did have a bit of self-respect left. I resolved to get up, shower, and make myself presentable. Then I would clean this dump I was living in, and then I would call him. He would come over and hold me until the darkness faded away. Or maybe he would make love to me and burn the darkness out of me with the heat of passion. But as I lay there, I knew I wasn’t going to do any of those things. Nothing could reach me. I was numb. I slid my hand between my thighs and touched myself, hoping to feel something, anything. I remembered Pax in my bed, his cock sliding into my wetness and how it made me feel alive. As my finger danced and touched, caressing me in all the familiar ways, I imagined it was Pax that was touching me. I gripped my breast, twisting it to the edge of pain as his big, strong hands handled me roughly. As he plunged into me, my fingers slid inside, and I

moaned softly, my back arching in pleasure as he thrust into me. His breath was hot on my neck as he whispered into my ear how he understood and would protect me from the darkness. I gasped as my orgasm begun to swell within me, my fingers touching and caressing. He gasped, his own orgasm taking him as I came, the pleasure rolling through me as I keened softly in pleasure, waiting, waiting, then relaxed with a sigh. I lay there; panting softly, as I slowly drew my fingers up my body. I sighed again and could already feel sleep pulling at me, the darkness temporarily banished. I rolled over to my side and stared at the wall, tears leaking from my eyes to dampen my pillow, until sleep claimed me and I slid into blissful darkness.

Chapter Twenty The club was starting to doubt my loyalty. Even though it hurt, I could see where they were coming from. I’d had one job when I’d followed Leah to that scummy bar, and I’d failed. I hadn’t gotten anything that would help the MC stop the impending gang wars. A lot had happened since then that they couldn’t use or even know about. Like the fact that Leah was becoming more than just a job at this point, though what I wasn’t sure exactly. I cared for her well-being and a desire to protect her, but I still needed to use her for information. Of course, I was sure she was fine. Women were strange creatures, with mood swings where something looked terrible to them one day and was fine the next. I picked up the phone and dialed her number. The phone rang for so long I was sure it would go to voicemail. It was the end of the day, but still business hours, and I figured she was busy doing whatever it was she did.

“Hello?” She sounded distracted, her voice husky as if she’d been sleeping. I frowned. “How’re you doing?” She hesitated for just long enough to make me think that her following answer was a lie. “I’m alright, how are you?” “Am I bothering you?” I asked, not answering her return question. “No, I can talk.” She sounded distant and switched off. I’d expected her bubbly personality to leak through the phone the way it had before. I’d expected the energized, positive Leah. Instead, it felt like she wasn’t interested in hearing from me. “I just wanted to know if you want to come out to

have drinks with me tonight.” I was making it sound like a date. The idea, of course, was that she thought so, but with her off responses, it made me feel like I was the one that was out of line. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m tired. I think I’m just going to stay in tonight.” I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “Thank you for calling, though,” she said, and the line went dead. I looked at my phone. That was weird. This was very different from the Leah I thought I’d come to know. It wasn’t the first time I’d been surprised by her, though. Every time I’d seen her, she was different. From sad and guarded, to energized, to sexy as hell, to a meltdown. Everything about her was unpredictable. Maybe this was the same. I needed to see her, though. She’d rejected the idea of going out, but she hadn’t rejected me. Not outright. Maybe it would be a good idea to

surprise her with a night in, instead. Of course, it would be better to leave her alone altogether. But doing nothing wasn’t going to save my reputation at the club or stop gang wars. There wasn’t a choice. I left my apartment and went shopping. I found wine—the good kind, not the crap I would have bought for any other woman—and finger foods. I wanted it to be classy, with crackers and cheese, not takeaways. Leah was a girl with class, and she needed to be treated that way. Besides, if I wanted her to talk to me at all, I needed to show her that she was important to me. It wouldn’t be too hard to make that happen, either. She was important to me already in a way I wasn’t sure I understood. I hesitated to call it an attraction. Sure, she was hot as hell and sex with her was phenomenal. I would fuck her in a heartbeat. But I needed more from her than sex would give me, and I was going to woo it out of her if that was what it took. Desperate? Yeah, I was getting that way. Everything I’d tried had been

a dry hole. She was my last hope to find out if the body in the bag was Jonas. She’d seen his face. Jonas had a nasty scar on his chin from a bar fight that ended up with him being cut with a broken bottle. I was pinning everything on her having seen that scar, or having seen there was no scar. I headed to her house. By the time I would get there, she should be home. When I parked in front of her home, her car was there. I smiled that she was home. It was the first step in getting what I needed from her, and hopefully what I wanted, too. I unstrapped the small cheese tray and bottle of wine from the bitch perch on my bike, balancing the tray in one hand with the cold bottle under my arm as I rang the doorbell. No answer. I rang it again. I glanced at her car. She should be home unless someone else had picked her up. Or maybe she was busy with someone else. The thought was stupid, and I pushed it away. Why was I worried about someone else? She wasn’t

mine. Besides, I had a lot of charm, and I could get anyone I wanted. There was no reason to be unsure about this. I rang the doorbell a third time, leaning on the button. Nothing. “Fuck,” I muttered and started to turn away when the door opened. “Pax.” Her voice wasn’t surprised. I turned around, and I was shocked to see what she looked like. Her blonde hair was stringy and tangled like she hadn’t washed or brushed it for a while. She wore sweats that looked like they came from her college with Indiana State emblazoned on the front across her breasts. Her eyes had dark circles underneath them, and she smelled like alcohol. She had no makeup on. I didn’t care about makeup, but she didn’t just look unkempt, she looked drained and pale. “Are you alright?” I asked. I knew that it was the

wrong thing to say, but shit, she didn’t look good. “I’m fine.” That was a lie. I held up the tray and the wine I’d brought and she looked at them without any emotion on her face. “I thought I would make your night in more interesting.” She looked back up at me for a moment, and I thought she was going to tell me to leave. Instead of telling me off, though, she nodded and stepped aside to let me in. “That’s very considerate of you, thank you.” Her voice was like she was on automatic. I was getting worried. I walked into the house and put the tray and wine on the counter. Leah produced two small plates and a pair of wine glasses. “I know you don’t really drink,” I started, “but a good wine isn’t the same as guzzling Salty’s.”

Leah nodded. I could smell the alcohol on her. I hadn’t known her for a very long time, but this wasn’t who I thought she was. “I could do with a drink,” she said. I realized that she hadn’t rejected me earlier when she’d said she didn’t want to spend a night out. She didn’t look all right, and pressing her for details now made me think that it would worsen her state. I was a selfish son of a bitch, but I had limits. Besides, if I pissed her off, or drove her even further into whatever was eating her, it would make it that much more difficult to find out what she knew. I sat six small cubes of cheese—one of each kind —on both plates then poured us each a glass of wine. Wine sucked, and I never drank it, but it was what women liked, so I was taking one for the team. Leah took her glass and downed half. “That bad, huh?” I asked as I refilled her glass.

She looked at me and nodded slightly. I picked up my plate and wine as she did the same. I decided that it would be better just to spend some time together first, to ease her into the mood to talk. When I sat, I lifted my wine glass. “Here’s to forgetting.” She made a sound of approval and clinked her glass against mine before swallowing down half again. I took a sip and schooled my face into approval even though I thought it tasted like shit. “Not bad,” I lied as I got up and brought the bottle back, topped off her glass, then sat the bottle in easy reach. I’d cut her off before she got sloshed, but if the wine provided a little lubrication, then that was what I was going to give her. “I didn’t think I would be in the mood for company,” she murmured into her glass. “But it’s nice that you’re here.”

She popped a bit of cheese into her mouth. “Thank you,” she said, as she chewed. I nodded and stuck a cube in my mouth too. I smiled even though it tasted like ass. “You’re welcome,” I said after I swallowed. “Sometimes it’s just nice to have someone around.” I was being a suck up. I was being an asshole. I was being a reliable friend and confidante to set her up for my own use. But I needed this. She had no idea what was at stake. She never would. Judging by her reactions, though, she wasn’t taking my presence as an advance toward a relationship. I wouldn’t hurt her too much when I ended up leaving. That was the only relief this situation brought.

Chapter Twenty-one I had no idea what to do with her and things were a lot worse than I thought. The conversation was almost non-existent, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It was as if she was content with the nothingness of it all. I had the feeling she might have given up, or if she hadn’t yet, it was close. I didn’t know how to deal with that. My duties in life had only ever been to survive, to help my brothers in the club to survive, and to get the information that would make that possible. Even though it wasn’t always easy, it was never as hard as this. It had never been my duty to make sure someone was mentally sound and emotionally taken care of. There was no danger for Leah, physically. It was all so emotional, and I was completely out of my depth. “I know you’re trying to forget about what’s bothering you,” I said after I’d made every possible attempt at small talk. Her eyes were

guarded when she turned them me. “I just want you to know that I’m here if you want to talk about anything. You want to tell me about the body you found? It might help.” I was dying to ask her details about the body. If she could tell me anything about what he looked like— the color of his hair or if there had been a scar on his chin—it would help me identify the body as Jonas. I had my convictions, but I needed proof. I needed to know for sure, though, and I needed her help. There was no other way of knowing, seeing that the police didn’t know yet. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve told you everything.” I shook my head. “You really haven’t. You haven’t told me what he looked like. What clothes was he wearing? Maybe if you told me you could get it out of your system.” She looked at me like I was a ghoul, her eyes going

wide and her already pale skin become even more so. She began to shake her head, starting small but getting more violent. “Hey! Hey! It’s okay.” I said softly, taking her hand. “I’m just trying to help. Tell me what can I do to make this better for you.” I didn’t usually ask people things like that. I didn’t usually care. I shouldn’t care now. A part of me screamed that I was getting myself into trouble. But another part argued that I wanted to care, and I hadn’t been in a place where I felt that in a very long time. She looked at me, her big eyes deep and blue, and it looked like she was going to cry. Her expression was heartbreaking. “Will you help me forget?” Her voice was thin and scared, like a child who realized the monsters under the bed were real. I didn’t know how she wanted me to do that, but I wanted to tell her that I could, that I would.

I nodded. “Yes. How?” She swallowed hard as if she had to contain herself, and then she leaned forward and kissed me. It was the last thing I’d expected. The kiss was urgent almost immediately. Her mouth was hot on mine as she took control. It was the complete the opposite of what I thought would happen and it caught me by surprise. For a moment, I didn’t respond the way I normally would, and she broke the kiss, looking at me with eyes that had so much hurt, and now, rejection. “You don’t want me?” she asked, and I could hear the panic and anguish creeping into her voice. I was starting to catch on. She was using the sex as an escape. I didn’t understand it, but better with me than someone else. Not only would I get to fuck her, but it also helped her to trust me so maybe she would open up a little.

I grabbed her face with both hands and pulled her into me again. I kissed her with the same urgency as she’d offered me, taking what she gave me and gave it back to her. She was trying to ride out the storm, and I was the guy that was going to fuck her through it. She didn’t take very long before she started tugging at her clothes. Her shirt came off, and she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. Her breasts were perfect and natural and even better than I remembered. I put my hands on them, tweaked and tugged at her nipples, kissed her and licked her. She closed her eyes and threw herself into the passion until there was nothing left but what we were doing. I got rid of my shirt and my pants, and when I pulled her pants down she was wet and glistening, her body begging for mine. I shoved her roughly back on the couch and settled between her legs. She looked at me with a mixture of lust, pain, and

hope, and it made my blood roar. I entered her with a lunge. She gasped out as I plunged in, twisting on the couch as her back arched. I pulled back and drove into her again as she grabbed my arms and moaned softly. I drove into her again, then again, her mouth twisting into a sneer as she grabbed my hair and pulled me down into a torrid kiss. As we kissed, I continued to thrust into her. She arched her back more, forcing her hips up as she forced her head into the gap between the back and seat cushions. I struggled to keep thrusting, the angle was wrong with one knee on the couch and a foot on the floor. It was the most intense sex I’d ever had as we snarled at each other, grasping and pulling, bucking and thrusting, demanding more and getting it. She wailed, long and loud, as she twisted and then clamped down around me. I couldn’t hold against her push, and we tumbled to the floor with a bump. Having her fall on me as she orgasmed was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to me. And it wasn’t just fucking, either. There was so much

emotion behind it; I was starting to see why women got so attached. I couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, sex had meant this much to me. She was like a machine and began to thrust on my hardness, growling down at me, her face intense as she stared into my eyes. For the first time tonight she looked alive, her teeth bared in a snarl before she flattened herself to me, taking my lips and thrusting her tongue into my mouth. I tangled my hands in her hair and held her in the kiss. I felt her try to pull back, straining against my hold, but then she relaxed and kissed me even harder. She reared up, her hands on my chest as she thrust, her breasts swinging with her motion. Her face began to distort; her eyes closing, and her lips opening until her face twisted in anguish. She tipped her head down, pulling her chin into her chest as she shuddered and her face melted in sweet agony. She sat on me; her body alive with

motion until she released the breath she’d been holding with an explosive exhale. She collapsed on top of me, panting with her release and efforts as she took my lips, kissing me thoroughly as I began to thrust into her again. I hadn’t come yet, but I wasn’t far off. Taking her fill from my lips, she leaned back, stilling my hips before smiling at me then rising to her feet. As I rose, she then placed her hands on the back of the sofa and presented her lovely ass to me, smiling over her shoulders as she gave it an inviting jiggle. I smiled as I slid into her again, my head flinging back in pleasure. I was rough, passionate and wild—fucking her without restriction or hesitation. She fucked me back like there was nothing to lose, and I had a feeling that concept was so close to the truth it was scary. As she climaxed a third time I lost it, coming with a growl as she moaned softly, her legs sagging as her release sapped her strength. When we finished,

Leah closed her eyes, and it was as if for once the woman was a hell of a lot more satisfied than the man. We tumbled back to the couch, panting. Our skin was slick with sweat, and I was spent. I couldn’t remember when sex had ever taken that much out of me. “Thank you,” she said in a hoarse voice. “Don’t thank me.” It was hard for me to see sex as a favor when it felt like I was the one that was taking advantage of her. She had instigated it, but it felt like this was just another step where I was using her. We got dressed. Though I tried, Leah didn’t want to cuddle or hug or kiss or anything that showed affection. As I finished dressing, she opened the door for me and smiled. She had no regret, but it felt a little distant as well, like this wasn’t personal to her. I tried not to take it personally that

I was being kicked in the ass. After all, I’d done similar plenty of times, but it was different when it was my ass that was being kicked out. As I rode away, I tried to make sense of what I was feeling. Usually, I got irritated with a woman when she was all clingy after we fucked because to me it was meaningless. Now that I’d finally found a woman who was willing to have meaningless sex with me, I felt like I wanted more. Leah wasn’t just some woman, though. She was more than her value as a piece of information. Leah was a great woman without any of that shit. I was falling for her. I had to admit that to myself. I knew we couldn’t be anything so I would keep myself guarded, but the one thing I knew was that I wasn’t going to abandon her now if she needed me, no matter in which way she needed to use me. I would let her use me because, for the first time, she was someone I didn’t want to use.

Chapter Twenty-two For three days after I saw Leah, I was in a terrible mood. The other club members stayed away from me as if I would bite if they came too close. The concept wasn’t all that foreign, and even Butch was careful around me. I had to check in with him so he couldn’t exactly ignore me, but he did his best in every other aspect. It was good to know that they still respected me or feared me in some way or another. I’d been starting to doubt that. I just didn’t know what it was that was getting to me. This whole thing with Leah, as much as it was my fault in a way, wasn’t enough to warrant a mood like this. I walked into the Rat and Parrot and sat down at the bar. The idea was to get myself as drunk as I possibly could, as fast as I possibly could, and then find my way home, alone or with company… although, the idea of finding some woman to fuck tasted foul in my mouth. I didn’t want just any woman; I wanted Leah. And not the Leah that I

knew now, but the Leah I met before when she was still coping with her life. Conrad came over to me and looked like he was irritated that I was there—a point for me as he couldn’t refuse to serve me. “I want brandy,” I said. “It would do you good to keep a bottle on hand.” Conrad raised an eyebrow at me. It didn’t bother me. I was immune to judgment, especially from him. “I take it your lady friend is not joining you if you’re planning on getting shitfaced.” I glared at him. He shrugged. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing, right? She really is too good for you.” I didn’t even have to be drunk to be pissed off at him. I wanted to reach over the bar and grab him by the shirt. I wanted to threaten him with his life.

“Just bring me the fucking drink,” I sneered instead. Who said I couldn’t be human? Conrad shrugged and walked away to do as I asked. He had to keep his mouth shut if he wanted me to keep behaving. If he let me get tanked and kept his opinions to himself, we’d get along just fine. When he returned with my glass, I sucked down the contents in one go, banged the glass hard on the bar, and sneered as the brandy burned down my throat. I pushed the empty glass toward Conrad who raised his eyebrows again in a look that I guess meant something along the lines of youweren’t-kidding. He poured another splash of brandy into the glass and slowly I felt my veins catch alight from the alcohol that was already in my system. This was exactly what I was looking for. I needed more of this. I needed to feel more of it. I drank, and Conrad poured, and we fell into a

wordless rhythm that worked for me. After what must have been half a bottle I finally felt like I was floating and that horrible, nagging feeling that I was stuck in the middle of was starting to disappear. It had taken a lot. “You feeling better?” Conrad asked a while later. I looked at him. The edges of him were starting to blur, and it looked like he was swaying from side to side. “I don’t know.” He looked at me for a long time. “What are you looking at?” My voice sounded as irritated and cold as I felt. At least, I didn’t sound drunk yet. I was on edge, and I wanted a fight. Conrad was asking for one. He would make a great recipient. “I’m trying to see what it is about you that she likes.”

I rolled my eyes, and the world began to shift to the right. “Are you back on that? You’ve seen her once.” My tongue felt numb and swollen, liked I’d chewed a bee. Conrad nodded, or at least I think he nodded. Either that or his head was loose. “I’m sure you’ll agree, with a girl like her, once is more than enough.” He had a point there, but I wasn’t going to let him think about her. She was mine. “So what’s your problem?” Conrad leaned on the counter with both his arms and looked at me. I knew he was going to say something that was going to push my buttons. He was wearing that face, and I knew from history what that face meant. “I was just trying to see what she sees in you.”

“Do you think after you saw her once that you know what kind of person she needs in her life?” I was getting closer and closer to losing control. Conrad should have known that about me. Maybe he did. Maybe he was itching for a fight, too. “I’m just saying that it might not be a bad idea for her to keep her options open. You don’t know that better is out there when you haven’t tasted it, right?” “What the hell are you playing at?” I asked. Conrad grinned at me, and I remembered what it used to be like when we were friends—when we used to look for fights like this together. I had gone down a different road, but that didn’t mean that at our core Conrad and I weren’t still very much the same. He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he turned his back on me. Bad idea.

I hurled myself across the bar and onto Conrad’s back, tackling him to the floor stained with alcohol. I pressed his face into the tiles. “You stay away from her. Do you hear me?” I snarled as I knelt on his neck. “She’s not in a place where she can deal with someone like you, and I’m not going to let any-fucking-thing happen to her! No matter what it takes! I’ll die for her! I’ll give up the fucking club for her!” Conrad squirmed until I said the last sentence. He quieted, and I finally let go of him, backing up. I nearly lost my balance when I got to my feet and grabbed onto the bar to stop the world from spinning. I looked around. A few students were looking at me in shock. Conrad stood up next to me, wiping his face with a cloth. “Jesus, Pax. I didn’t know you were this serious about her.”

I shook my head. “I’m not.” Conrad snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re always fucking any girl you can find, and now you’re suddenly attacking me because you’re possessive? Since when do you give a shit?” I tried to figure out what he was saying, but the booze made it hard to think. The truth was, his words sounded an awful lot like he was right. I was reacting to him because I wanted Leah all to myself, and not just for the sake of fucking her. I’d said it myself; I’d keep her safe. I’d give up the club for her. Maybe that was what was eating at me. Nothing in my life had ever been important enough for me to consider sacrificing the club. When I had to choose, I would always choose the Venom Chasers because they were my family. But Leah was something else. “I just want to make sure she’s alright.”

I climbed back over the bar because walking around was too easy and dignified, and nearly fell off the other side, but I made it safely and sat back down on my stool. Conrad poured me another drink without me asking, and I nodded in thanks. The air of tension between us had dissipated now that I’d gotten it out of my system. “I was just messing with you,” Conrad said, “but you were about ready to kill me for her.” I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure what to say. I was starting to realize what my problem was. I was disappointed in myself. On the one hand, I was willing to give up the only thing that I’d cared about— the Venom Chasers. On the other hand, I was curious to know how that could have happened. I’d been told so many times by women who wanted more than just a good lay that I was a selfish bastard, that I didn’t have a heart. I had started to believe them. If I didn’t have a

heart, I could do whatever I wanted and not get hurt. I’d gone into this with Leah with the same attitude, but I was starting to see that I’d been wrong. I had a heart, and she’d found it, and now I was in trouble. She was starting to fuck with my plans. I had dreams about being the club leader one day. Intel was my job, and I was good at it. Now, I was mooning over some girl, and people like Conrad were starting to see it. What the hell was I going to do now?

Chapter Twenty-three It was getting worse—the insomnia, the nightmares —and my depression seemed to drag me down further than I’ve ever been before. Abby had given up on me. It hurt to think that my best friend had walked away to leave me to fend for myself, but a big part of me just didn’t care. She’d tried, but she was no different than anyone else. She didn’t understand. Nobody did. She had a life she was building, a life that was still perfectly intact, and she’d cut me free before I dragged her down with me. I liked it when people left me alone. I was better at being alone. I didn’t dress up so I couldn’t go out into public, and I couldn’t go out into public because I didn’t dress up. I knew I sounded ridiculous, but it was how I felt, and no one could change that. No one could tell me I was wrong for feeling what I felt because I had a right to my own emotions. The doorbell rang for the first time in four days.

Everyone had left me alone, and I’d liked it for the most part. Now, I was nervous. What if it was my boss coming to fetch me, to drag me back to the lab? What if it was Abby asking me if I wanted to go out? What if it was Pax? I looked like shit; I didn’t want to be like this in front of him, or anyone. The doorbell kept ringing until I had to answer it, so I walked downstairs and opened the door. It was Pax, and I felt immediately self-conscious. My shirt wasn’t clean, and I was wearing my fat pants —the jeans I put on when I feel frumpy. Eating had become something of a hobby. “How are you?” Pax asked, and the way he looked at me made me feel like he genuinely wanted to know, like he was concerned. I shrugged. “I’m okay.” He didn’t look like he believed me. “Can I help you?” I was being rude, but I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to sleep with him. The last time had helped me but

not enough, and this time I was disgusting. “I want to talk to you,” he said. I frowned. “About what?” Pax shrugged. “About me. There’re some things about me you don’t know, and I feel like it’s wrong to keep it from you anymore. I want to talk to you and tell you what I’m about.” I hesitated. I didn’t want to invite him in. I didn’t want him to tell me whatever it was that he was going to tell me. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but it wasn’t this. “It’s not going to lead into anything. I just need to come clean with you.” I waited for him to tell me that I must know what that feels like, for him to appeal to my sympathetic side. I decided I wouldn’t be sympathetic. But he didn’t. He simply stood there, forcing me to either

invite him in or shut the door in his face. He looked at me with those drowning deep eyes of his, and I felt like I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t turn him away when he was being so sincere. I nodded without saying anything and stepped to the side. Pax walked into my house like he belonged there, and it was nice in a way I hadn’t expected. At the same time, it made me uncomfortable. He was getting very close. He sat down on the couch and looked at me expectantly. “Coffee?” I asked, and then remembered I was out as I hadn’t been to the store. “Wait, there’s no coffee. Tea?” He shook his head. “I just want to talk. I won’t stay long.” I took a deep breath and sat down. I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a normal conversation, and

it made me a little nervous. Then again, what wasn’t I nervous about these days? Pax took a deep breath, too. Was this going to be harder for him than for me? What could it possibly be when he seemed like the kind of person who was always on top of the world? Pax was invincible in my eyes. He was a badass biker clad in leather and immune to the weight of the world. That was how he’d come across since day one. He was the exact opposite of me. “I wanted to talk to you about me,” he finally said, and I was pulled out of my own thoughts. “I’ve found out a lot about you since we met but I haven’t told you anything about me. I feel like you should know who I am.” I frowned. “This sounds so serious.” Pax shrugged and then nodded. “I guess it is, in a way. Nothing too serious, of course,” he added as if I was already getting the wrong idea. I tucked my

feet underneath me on the couch and leaned back. “You see what I look like,” he started. Of course, I’d noticed him. He was drop dead gorgeous. “I’m not just a biker, I’m part of a biking club called the Venom Chasers.” Oh… that’s what he meant by ‘what he looked like.’ “The Venom Chasers?” I wanted him to keep talking. It was nice hearing who he was. It was distracting, and that is what made me feel better. Distractions. “Yeah. We’re a motorcycle club, and we’re not…” He took another deep breath. “We’re not always on the right side of the law.” “Okay.” I didn’t understand what he was getting at. “I’m trying to tell you that sometimes we do bad things.” I looked at him without saying something for a

while. Bad things… “Do you mean your gang does bad things, or you do them too? You personally?” He shrugged. “Same thing.” I had to admit it came as a shock. I’d expected him to be a guardian angel in disguise. That was ridiculous of me. Somewhere deep down I must have known that someone that looked like him wasn’t the perfect guy, even when he treated me in the right way. “Why’re you telling me this?” He picked at his fingernails, his face expressionless and impossible to read. “I just wanted you to know who I was. I wanted you to know that I’m not the white knight in shining armor.” Was this because I’d asked him to sleep with me to forget? He’d been the one who said he’d wanted to

help. I nodded, looking down at my own hands, not sure how to respond. We sat in silence for a while. “What do they do?” I asked finally. “Your Venom Chasers?” He winced like that was the one question he didn’t want me to ask, but he opened his mouth to give me my answer, anyway. That was admirable. “Everything from moving smack and blow to dealing justice.” He looked like he hoped he was too cryptic for me to understand that they dealt in drugs and violence on a regular basis. Maybe under normal circumstances that wouldn’t have bothered me so much, but considering that my downward spiral had been because of a body that could only have been the result of violence, his information made me sit up and notice. “Why’re you telling me this?” I asked again. Pax

looked at me, and I couldn’t read the expression on his face. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer me at all, but then he spoke. “Because you deserve to know who I am in the same ways I’ve gotten to know who you are. And, well, I’ve started to care for you.” He said the last sentence as a “by the way,” but it hit me in the face with more force than anything else he’d told me. “You care for me.” I made it a statement, not a question. He nodded slowly, as if it was a fact that he’d been forced to acknowledge. His words didn’t knock me that hard as I’d thought he cared for me all along. It was his face when he said it that got me. It hit me because he looked like it came as a surprise to him, and he wasn’t exactly delighted about it. It hit me because it seemed like it wasn’t what he’d expected to happen and it had caught him off guard.

Which led me to wonder what he’d been after, then, if he didn’t care? I wanted to ask him. I wanted to know what he was all about. I didn’t want to press him, though. I wanted him to tell me. He was already here, bearing his soul. I wanted it to come from him. We sat together, making small talk again for a while longer. The whole time it looked like Pax wanted to say more, like he was holding something back. It came to the point where I wanted to scream at him to just tell me and get it over with. He didn’t. When he finally got up to leave, he hadn’t told me anything more, and he looked like he had chosen to keep the rest to himself. I hated it. I wanted more. I wanted the relief that came with focusing on someone else for once. But I wasn’t going to press it.

The last thing I could deal with was the idea that whatever he was telling me wasn’t there from the start, that whatever we had, and had in the past, had been a bit of a game, or a lie. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Pax said when I let him out through the front door. “It sounds like you’re saying goodbye.” He shrugged. “I’m not.” He turned around and walked to his bike. I was glad it wasn’t goodbye, but I wasn’t sure how to justify or explain the fact that it sounded like a farewell anyway.

Chapter Twenty-four The next day when I woke up, I felt like shit, but instead of turning around and pulling the covers over my head the way I’d done for the past week or so, I got up and took a shower. It felt good to wash off the grime and the stale emotions that hung around me like a personalized stench. When I was done, and I looked at myself in the mirror, I didn’t recognize myself. I’d picked up some weight, and I had dark circles under my eyes. I still felt like I was in some deep morass, but I was getting fed up with being in this state. The only thing that ever got me out of any kind of slump was that I first got bored with it and then irritated with it. I was there now. I was at a point where I wanted to get rid of it because it was doing nothing for me besides ruining my life. It was still there, but I had to do something to change it, or I was just going to sit and rot in my house until there was nothing left of me.

I phoned Abby and asked her if she wanted to meet me for lunch. She was surprised to hear from me. I’d withdrawn from everyone, including her. I was going to meet her at our usual coffee shop, and I was early so that she didn’t think I gave up on her halfway through. When Abby arrived, she pulled me into a hug. “I’m so glad you called,” she said when she pulled away and sat down. “You look… better.” I knew she wasn’t telling the truth. I didn’t look better at all. I looked clean, but that wasn’t the same thing. “I think I need to get out of here,” I said, jumping right in with what had been tearing around inside my mind all morning. Abby frowned. “What do you mean?”

I shrugged. A waiter arrived and took our order. We ordered drinks and food all in one go, and when he was gone, I tried again. “I need to change something. I’m going to run myself into the ground if I carry on like this.” Abby nodded slowly. “Okay, I can get that. And it’s good that you finally figured that out. But you’re not thinking of running, are you?” I shook my head. I wasn’t planning for it to be permanent. I just needed a change of scenery—an escape. “I think I need to clear my head, and I can’t do that around here. Not with everything that’s been happening, and everything that’s always the same.” Abby nodded. “Where will you go?” I shrugged. “No idea. Somewhere inland. I have to be able to drive there.”

Abby narrowed her eyes at me. “Away from the ocean.” I shrugged and didn’t look at her. I wasn’t going to be able to explain to her how betrayed I felt by the ocean, by my one and only love. I had no way to tell her that it was because of the damn ocean that I was in such a mess now. Not directly, of course, but still. The rest of our lunch together was filled with meaningless small talk and awkward silences that we’d never had before. When it was finally done, she couldn’t get away fast enough, and I felt the same. I knew she was worried. I knew it was my fault. I couldn’t do anything about it now, which was why I was going away. I didn’t go home right away. If I was going to go away, there were a few things I still needed to do. One of them was to see if I could salvage what was left of my career. If I went into OIMB now and

spoke to Mark, maybe I would still have a job to come home to. That’s assuming I haven’t already been fired, of course. I knew it was going to be hard going back there. It was going to be embarrassing to face my colleagues after I went underground but walking into the lab and talking to Mark, that was going to be the hardest of all. I drove all the way to the institute, but instead of pulling into the parking lot, I drove past then parked in a tourist parking spot that overlooked the bay, the institute, and the vast span of ocean that stretched toward Asia. Everything looked so calm and so peaceful. I looked at the low white buildings that were spread out along the edge of the cliffs. Below the buildings were pools of natural seawater with gates that could be raised, where we kept marine life we needed to study or treat.

I walked along the trail that led to the beach then followed the waterfront away from the institute. I liked the taste of salt on my tongue and the almoststicky sea spray that would get my hair into a terrible tangle, and make my skin feel foreign and natural all at the same time. The wind picked up, and I breathed in nostalgia and pain all in one gulp of fresh air. I followed the beach toward the buildings again, and I knew it would come up to the tide pool if I kept going. I didn’t want to see the tide pool again. I didn’t want to think about what I’d found there. But I couldn’t stop myself, and then I was staring right at the spot where the black bag with the body had been stranded. In my mind’s eye, I saw the yellow police tape and the body wedged under the rock. It was all gone now, and there was nothing there to prove that it had even happened. But that had been the same with my father. Even

after his body had been removed and the combine washed to remove the blood, every time I saw one working the fields, I could still see him hanging there, his arm shredded inside the machine to his shoulder, his head bent at a bizarre angle from the powerful machine trying to consume his entire body. I’d still been able to taste the despair, and with every combine, I saw I felt the stab of my loss. No one understood that. They hadn’t then, and they wouldn’t now. That was why I had to leave. I had to leave everything behind and go away so that nothing from my past could find me. It had worked once before, and I hoped it would work again. Since I’d moved I hadn’t seen even one combine harvesting vast swaths of grain, and I’d been able to forget. The last stop before home was Pax’s apartment. I’d only been there once before. After I’d chickened out of going to the institute, I felt like a failure. I wouldn’t have been surprised with myself if I

couldn’t go through with this either. But it was different. This had nothing to do with the body. This had everything to with me and the life I was trying to save from total ruin. And Pax, as nice as he was, was another bad call in my life. I realized that now. It took me a while thinking about it, but it all added up. I’d been attracted to him for a reason. I always picked out the bad ones when I was in trouble emotionally. The only problem was that this one wasn’t a onenight stand. I had to tell him it was over and for him to go away. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was something that had to be done. I rapped on the door and stood up straight, my legs almost shaking. The front door opened and he smiled when he saw me. “I’m so glad to see you,” he said. Way to make me feel like a bitch.

“I need to talk to you.” It was ironic that I used the same words he’d used a couple of days before. He looked curious, not nervous. He should have been nervous. His curiosity made it look like he had hope and hope was dangerous. “Do you want to sit down? Can I get you something?” I was having a moment of déjà vu. I wasn’t going to sit down, though. I shook my head to all his offers, and finally, he gave up and stood in front of me. “What is it? Are you okay?” I shook my head again. I could lie to a lot of people, even though they didn’t always believe me, but I was going to tell Pax the truth. “I’m not okay. And I need to do something to make it right again.” Pax nodded. “That sounds good. You’re being proactive. I like it.”

His liking it wouldn’t last. I took a deep breath. “I’m going away for a while. I need a change of scenery. I just need to get out.” Pax frowned. This wasn’t what he’d had in mind; I was sure. “Where will you go? It’s not safe.” I laughed without emotion. What did he know about safe? The things that bothered me weren’t going to worry about bars or locked doors. “I don’t know where I’m going yet, and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. But when I come back… we can’t carry on like this.” He looked at me with a face that suggested he didn’t understand what I was saying. “I think we should stop seeing each other.” The words looked like they’d sunk in this time. Thank God. I didn’t want to have to say it any harsher than that.

“I don’t understand,” he said. How was I going to explain it? “It’s not you, Pax. It’s me.” He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I haven’t heard that one before, right?” This was hard. Harder than I thought it would be. I’d been worried about how he would take it. I hadn’t thought about what it would do to me. “You’re just going to run away?” he asked. I was suddenly furious, the blood under my skin boiling. Who the hell did he think he was to accuse me of something he didn’t understand? “Do I need to remind you, Paxton, that we don’t know each other very well, and no matter what you think you know about me, theory isn’t the same thing as practical.” He was angry now, too, even though I wasn’t sure

why. I hadn’t done anything wrong except seriously dent his ego. “Maybe you should just go,” he said. It hit me harder than his anger or his pain. The fact that he didn’t want me now that I was trying to take care of myself; kicking me out like a dog. That was what got me, and I didn’t know why. I was getting what I wanted. “Yeah, maybe I should.” I felt cold and hard. If only it had been this easy to switch off my emotions before. I turned around and walked out without saying goodbye. It was for the best. When I got into my car, it felt like I was going to shatter. I bit back tears because Pax wasn’t a man I wanted to cry over. I wasn’t going to cry over a man, not ever again. I put my car in gear and left for home. I was going to pack my bags and get out of here, and I was going to stay away so long that, by the time I

returned, Pax wouldn’t even know who I was anymore.

Chapter Twenty-five She left me standing in my apartment feeling like I’d been punched in the gut. When I was new to the club, I’d had to fight a Demon Aviator for initiation. I’d grown up on the rough side of life, but I wasn’t streetwise in the way the club had taught me to be over the years. One of the things I hadn’t known was that, in a fight between two gang members, there were no rules. Anything was acceptable. I’d been hit over the head with a beer bottle, and when I’d seen stars, a punch I never saw coming had sent me tumbling to the ground. The son of a bitch had kicked me when I was down, his foot forcing itself into my stomach over and over until I felt like every part of me had to be ruptured or broken. After that, I thought there was no way I would ever be accepted by the Venom Chasers. I was sure they saw me as a pathetic piece of shit. I’d passed out with the taste of my own blood in my mouth and so much pain I hadn’t thought I would make it through.

I didn’t know why I was comparing Leah’s dumping me to that night, but it felt the same. Not physically, obviously, because I was perfectly intact. It floored me in the same way. Like the bottle and the punch, I hadn’t seen it coming because I hadn’t known there were no rules. I wasn’t trying to say that Leah had played dirty. She was by no means a cold-hearted bitch. If anything, I was the one that was the bastard when it came down to it. After all, I was the one that had been thinking of ending whatever it was between us. She was of very little use to the club. Still, I hadn’t expected it from her. I hadn’t thought she would waltz in here, looking like nothing was wrong after I’d seen her at her lowest, and tell me that it was over. I felt cheated. I’d vowed to look after her because she’d been so fragile that she couldn’t look after herself. I’d let her cry on my shoulder because I’d thought that she wouldn’t be able to deal with her own emotions without crumbling completely. And now?

It turned out that she did have the ability to pick herself up after all. And the moment she didn’t need me anymore, I was discarded. I left the apartment and got onto my bike. I took the main road and left the town behind, riding along the coast. The wind was salty and whipped my hair away from my face, tugged at my clothes, and brushed against my skin. The freedom was something I usually relished, but today it felt a lot like I was running away. I wasn’t a hypocrite, though. I wasn’t running away from my problems the way Leah had done before and the way she was doing again. I was facing my problems and dealing with the consequences of my failures. I knew there would be gang wars and I was going to face them. I knew that the club didn’t trust me like they used to, and I knew I was going to have to suffer the consequences or prove them wrong, instead of tucking my tail between my legs and running. Running was pathetic. Running was weak. I was

angry with Leah for what she’d done to me. I was angry that it bothered me this much when I was the one that was going to do that to her. I was upset that none of this was working out the way it had to. I’d always been the go-to guy when it came to Intel, and now I hadn’t only betrayed my club by not getting what they needed, but I’d also betrayed myself by developing emotions that wouldn’t just allow me to let her go. And I was angry with her for beating me to it. I’d wanted to dump her. I’d wanted to be the one that came out on top if it came down to breaking off what I’d started. I was the one that was supposed to walk away unscathed. I kept riding until the town was miles behind me. The vastness of the ocean stretched away from me on my right, and I was aware of how small I was and how little my life was worth. In the greater scheme of things, whether we ended up killing each other or somehow found peace, the world wouldn’t stop turning. It was nothing but little

games. Dangerous games that claimed lives, but games all the same. There was nothing that I would be able to look back on one day and to say that I’d made it in life. I had nothing to show. I didn’t have a family. I didn’t have friends that would trust me enough to believe that, even though I’d failed, my loyalty didn’t have to come into question. I didn’t have a woman I could go home to, who accepted me, and knew that it wouldn’t end after the next time we fucked. All I had was lies and deceit and power plays that carried on as long as both parties were alive to keep pushing them forward. And the truth was, it was ridiculous. I shook my head and tried to get rid of the stupid thoughts that were swirling in my mind. I never used to think like this before. I used to be content with the life I’d made for myself. Others thought it was all fucked up, but to me, it was home.

It was only since I met Leah that things had started going wrong. I blamed her for it all. She came along and ruined it all and then she left me to pick up all the pieces. I was going to have to deal with a war that she could have prevented if she just told me what the fucking body looked like. I knew I was thinking all sorts of unfair things and that this was hardly her fault, but I was angry, and I felt used. The irony wasn’t lost on me, either. I used women either for information and fucking or just for fucking. I didn’t want any strings attached. When they got clingy, I got mean until they went away. It was something I’d always done. Now, for the first time, I met a woman that was more than just that. She was someone I couldn’t afford to fall for, so I’d tried to keep myself distant, but it wasn’t that easy with her. Leah was the kind of person that drew you in no matter who you were and what you did. So, at the end of it,

there was something, but less than it could have been because I hadn’t let it happen. A woman had finally tamed the beast. And then she’d used me and left me the way I’d always left them. She’d done to me what I always did to people. Sure, maybe it wasn’t for personal benefit in the sense of information, but she’d gotten other things from me. And I was angry about it. Not just because of her, but because reality was a cunning bitch and karma had come around and slapped me so hard I wasn’t sure which way was up. Yeah, I had all of this coming to me. I pulled to a stop, a wide spot in the road that overlooked the ocean. Did I think I could get away from it forever? Well, truthfully, I did. Turned out I wasn’t always charming enough to get my own way, after all. I watched the ocean, lost in thought as I smoked a

cigarette, trying to think of a way to salvage something, anything, from the mess I’d created. The more I thought about it, the more I realized there was only one way out. I was going to have to go to Leah and force her to tell me what she knew. I threw the cigarette aside in disgust. I’d become useless and weak. I’d let emotions get in the way of doing what needed to be done. And I was still doing it. “Fuck,” I snarled. I started the bike, stomped it into gear, and then gunned it back onto the road, revving the engine hard before kicking it into the next gear. I was abusing the machine for no reason other than it made me feel better to take my anger out on something. It was time to go face the consequences of my actions.

Chapter Twenty-six When I finally rumbled back into town, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked it like some bitch. I wanted a message or a missed call from her. I was being an idiot, but I couldn’t help it. When there was nothing on my phone, I got angry again. I liked being angry. It kept all the other emotions at bay, and even though my reasoning was a little unpredictable when I was angry, it was better than wallowing in self-pity. I rode to the club. I wasn’t welcome there the way I used to be, but it was still home, and I had nowhere else to go. That was what happened when you sacrificed everything for something, whether they returned the favor or not. I never used to wonder about the fairness of it all, but now I did. Butch was in the clubhouse when I arrived, but there was no one else around. “So, do you have some good news for me or do

you have another pussified excuse?” he asked. I knew what he wanted. Intel. I didn’t have any for him. In fact, I had less now that I had a couple of days earlier. “Yes.” When in doubt, sound fucking confident. Butch paused and looked at me, his face expectant. When I didn’t say anything, he raised his eyebrows. “Well? Let’s fucking hear it.” I cleared my throat. “I got rid of the woman. She had nothing more to offer. I made sure she’s not in the picture anymore.” Butch didn’t have to know that she was the one that had ended it. He didn’t have to know that she’d bruised my ego and that I was in a bad mood because of it. I put on my charming smile, my happy-go-lucky mask, and lied to his face. “That’s mighty fucking big of you,” Butch said, and I frowned at the sarcasm. We rarely fought things out with tacky verbal hits. Instead, we usually used

our fists. I narrowed my eyes. “What?” Butch shrugged as the corners of his mouth pointing down. “I got some fucking info from someone else. They weren’t such a pussy and actually knew something.” I narrowed my eyes even more. As far as I knew I was the only one that knew anything. I was the only one they all trusted not to be a mole. “Really.” I tried not to sound too panicked. Butch nodded, his lips twisting into a nasty smile. “She’s been playing you, and you were her little bitch.” The words felt like they jabbed me in the chest one by one. Breathe. Stay calm. “What’re you talking about?”

Butch’s smile was menacing, like somehow he knew what he was doing and he was enjoying it. Either that, or he was enjoying my fall from glory. “That little cock holster has been withholding information from you.” I frowned. A lot of things were possible, but that was one thing that wasn’t. “You’re wrong.” Butch barked a laugh. “I found out the cock smoker was involved in Jonas’s disappearance. Maybe that’s why she’s so tightlipped about it.” He’s smile grew nastier still. “Were her lips tight around your cock? I bet they were. I hear she’s smoking hot.” My ears started ringing. This couldn’t be happening. I felt like the floor was tilting under my feet, and gravity was working against me. I felt faint. I reached out for one of the high tables nearby and hoped Butch didn’t realize I was losing my shit.

“We’re going after her, and we’ll find out what the fuck happened to Jonas. Maybe some of the brothers will loosen her lips. Maybe her pussy and ass too.” I swallowed hard and nodded. I wasn’t going to contradict him now. I didn’t believe him, though. Leah was too innocent. She was too sweet. Sure, she was complicated as hell, and she had a lot of hang-ups, but she wasn’t someone who would be involved in a murder. I didn’t know her very well, but I knew enough to know that Butch’s information was wrong. I had to reach her. I had to find Leah and tell her that she was in danger. I had to accept that it was all my fault, too. There was no way it wasn’t because of me this time. It hadn’t been before, but this time she was in danger directly because of her involvement with me. “Fine!” I snarled before I turned on my toe and stomped away, mounted up, and got the fuck away

from there. I pulled out my phone as soon as I was far enough away from the club to be able to freak out and not crack my reputation. I dialed her number and waited for it to ring. It rang until it rolled over to voicemail. The moment her voice sounded over the speaker to tell me I had to leave a message I hung up and dialed again. I needed to talk to her. I called two more times, and both times it went directly to voicemail. She’d turned her phone off. I left a message. Leah! Call me as soon as you get this! You’re in danger! I’m not fucking around, and this isn’t a joke! Call me! I was aware it sounded pathetic, but I didn’t want to say so much that she panicked and I didn’t want to say so little she didn’t take it seriously. I started my bike again, and it roared into the night, making it to her place in record time.

All the lights in her duplex were off, but her car was there. I walked to the door and hammered on it as I called her name. I needed to talk to her. I would get to her no matter what it took, even if it meant I had to kick in the fucking door. There was no answer. I gave the door a kick in frustration then stepped to the side to see if the windows were unlocked. “What are you doing?” I turned to face an exotic beauty. Her face was suspicious, and she had her hand in her handbag like she had mace or a weapon in there. I held up my hands, trying to be non-threatening. “I’m just looking for Leah. She’s not answering my calls, and it’s important.” She looked at me for a while before speaking. “You’re that guy she talks about.” I didn’t know she’d mentioned me. “Are you a

friend?” I asked. She nodded. “Abby. But Leah probably isn’t here. She left earlier.” “Her car is here. I need to speak to her,” I said as I slowly lowered my hands. She didn’t protest, but she didn’t remove her hand from her purse, either. “I told you, she’s not here. She rented a car because hers is a piece of shit.” “Then why are you here?” “I took her to get the car.” “I need to speak to her. Have her open the door.” Abby looked at me as if I were stupid. “What part of ‘she’s not here’ didn’t you understand?” “You didn’t answer the question. If she’s not here, why are you here?”

“I came to take in her mail, and maybe clean up her place a little bit.” Dammit. If I hadn’t gone on my run but met up with Butch instead, I would have been able to save her. Now she was gone. “Where’d she go?” Abby shook her head. “She wouldn’t tell me. She needed to—” “Get away. Yeah, she said that. I know,” I finished for her, trying to hurry the conversation along. Abby nodded slowly. “What’s this about?” she asked. “Did she tell you anything, anything at all? Anything you can use to find her?” Abby shook her head. “When Leah needs space she

makes sure she gets it. She ignores everyone and everything. She’ll contact you again when she’s ready.” “I don’t think so,” I said. “She broke it off with me.” Abby looked surprised. Turned out Leah didn’t tell her everything, after all. “Why are you here then? Shouldn’t you leave her alone, if that’s what she wants?” The question was very accusing, and under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t have cared. But this time there was so much more at stake. “You know what, sister, if I was just a clingy stalker that would be the least of her worries. But it’s not that simple. She got involved with the wrong crowd, and now her life is in danger. So, if you know anything at all and you want to save her life, you need to tell me what you know.”

Abby’s face changed from mild suspicion and irritation to horror. “Her life is in danger?” I nodded. “It is. The guys that are after her are serious, and if I don’t find her, and soon, it will be too late.”

Chapter Twenty-seven Abby didn’t know where Leah was. That was ridiculous. Since when did girls not know where their friends were? Women were a different species, and they gossiped all the time. It was starting to piss me off. I tried to phone Leah after I left her place. I still couldn’t get through. The first couple of times I’d tried it had just rung and then gone through to voicemail. Now, the line went dead. A connection couldn’t even be made. Which meant she’d blocked me. I could see how it might look bad— all my missed calls—but it had been for her own safety. Still, if she just would answer the fucking phone she would have known what the hell it was all about, wouldn’t she? She would know that I was just trying to look out for her, which was ironic considering all this shit was because of me in the first place.

I should just leave her alone, as Abby said. The thought crossed my mind. I owed her nothing. I’d wanted information from her, but the whole thing hadn’t been intentional. If the club suspected her of being involved, it wasn’t my problem. I should have been able to go home and go to bed with a clear conscience. I should just get on my bike and ride home. That was exactly what I was going to do. I wasn’t going to let this bother me because there was no reason it should affect me. I parked in front of my apartment and sighed. I was just trying to fool myself, and doing a piss-poor job at it. I took a deep breath. There was no way I would be able just to let Leah go and let whatever happen to her happen. I had always been able to shrug people off like that, but not her. I didn’t know what it was about her either. I didn’t know if it was the fact that she was so damn innocent it almost broke my heart. Or maybe it was her big blue eyes and blond hair with bob that

made her look like she couldn’t do anything wrong and she shouldn’t have been let loose in a world such as ours. It could be the fact I felt sorry for her. Or maybe I’d fallen for her, and even though everything else was just as heartbreaking, I didn’t want something to happen to her because I actually cared about her as a person. I wouldn’t go as far as saying I loved her. That was just too much. People like me didn’t expect love and people like Leah weren’t supposed to love people like me. I wasn’t waiting for a happily ever after, but there was some kind of feeling that haunted me whenever I thought of washing my hands of her. With a snarl, I thumbed the starter button to bring the hog to life again, instead of getting off my bike and going into the apartment. I was losing time. I had to find her. I didn’t know what they were going to do to her. It was sad to say, but the truth was that even though I called the club members my brothers, I didn’t know for a fact that I could trust them. Not with Leah. And lately,

not with my life, either. I was starting to think I’d put my faith in the wrong people. If they found her before I did, she was going to be in trouble and whatever they were going to do to her wasn’t going to be pretty. She thought she’s had problems now? She didn’t have any idea the problems she was going to inherit if I didn’t find her. She would see and experience things that she wouldn’t be able to deal with. I had the feeling I’d already made that worse than it needed to be. I was the one that had caused this by not coughing up what I needed to, or writing her off as a dead-end. I’d let my emotions get involved, and I’d kept her around longer than I should have, and now she was in danger. I was just a fucking asshole. The only thing that made me feel even the slightest bit better was the fact that if I couldn’t find her, then probably nobody could. There was no one that

knew where she was, not even her best friend. It wasn’t much of a consolation, but it was something. I made my way to the Rat and Parrot. I needed a drink, badly, but I wasn’t planning on touching alcohol tonight. I needed information, and if there was anyone in this town that had seen Leah, it was Conrad. He wasn’t behind the bar. I sat down at a table and waited. After half an hour he still didn’t show, and I flagged down the woman working the bar. “What will it be?” she asked. I shook my head. “I’m looking for Conrad.” “It’s his off night.” “Where’s he live?” She looked me up and down and frowned. I knew that face all too well. It was the face that told me I couldn’t be trusted because I

looked like a badass biker that was full of shit. And she was right. I was all that, but this was about something important. This time, it wasn’t about my own life or my own agenda. It was about Leah’s. “I need to find out something from him, or someone we both know could be in real danger.” The sentence was cryptic as hell, and probably made me look like a real idiot, but I was past the point of caring. She still didn’t want to give me his address. I rolled my eyes. “For fuck’s sake. I’ve known the guy for years. If I were really going to cause that much trouble, I wouldn’t have come here to tell you that I’m looking for him and give you the chance to call the cops on me. I just want to talk, okay? A woman’s in trouble.” None of my words got through to her until I mentioned that a woman was in trouble. That was something that got to every woman I knew. She

took a deep breath, hesitated just a moment longer, and pulled a napkin closer. She scribbled an address on it with a pen and pushed it over the bar toward me. The one corner was wet from alcohol that had been spilled on the bar. The address was more than enough for me to go by. “Thank you,” I said, and I meant it. She nodded and looked like she regretted it already. I turned around and walked out of the bar. Conrad’s place was close to Leah’s. It annoyed me even though there was absolutely no reason to be annoyed about it. This wasn’t the largest city in the state, and everyone lived close to someone. I rang the doorbell and waited. No response. I rang it again and waited, shuffling my weight from one foot to the other. I looked up. The night sky was dark, the clouds blocking the stars and a stiff wind blew in from the waterside. This was standard coast weather. It irritated me tonight, too.

I turned away from the door. Where the fuck was he? The door behind me rattled with a burglar chain being removed, and then it opened. “Well,” Conrad said when I turned around. “You’re the last person I expected to see on my doorstep.” I nodded. “You and me both.” He pulled up an eyebrow. “What do you want?” The question was hostile. I didn’t care. “Do you know where Leah is?” Conrad narrowed his eyes, and the confused look made him look that much more like a GQ model. Conrad and I had the same kind of looks, but he used his for good, and I used mine for evil. We used to joke about it before we became enemies of sorts.

“Why would I know where she is?” Conrad asked. “It’s not like you lost her, right?” he asked. His eyes sparkled with humor. He was laughing at me. I didn’t answer him. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Did she go missing?” He asked it in a way that suggested he knew what the answer would be. I sighed and shook my head. “She didn’t go missing, she left. But she’s in danger, and I need to know where she is.” Conrad shrugged and turned around, showing his back to me. It was a broad back, and it was an insult. It showed me that he didn’t see me as a threat. You didn’t turn your back on a threat. “Why would I know where she is if she left? You were all buddy-buddy with her, not me. Not that I understand what she saw in you.” I followed him into his apartment as I rolled my

eyes. Conrad turned back to me when I shut the door. “You spoke to her a few times, and you’re the only person outside her circles, besides me, that had anything to do with her. I was taking a chance.” Conrad nodded slowly and smirked at me. I wanted to punch him in the face. “I’m going,” I said and turned to the door. Not only did Conrad not know where she was, but he was also mocking me. I already had my tail between my legs by asking him for help in the first place. The last thing I needed was to be a made a fool. I opened the door and stomped into the night. I had no idea where I was going to go now. Leah had vanished into thin air as far as I was concerned, but it was because she was actively trying to get away from me. Someone else, like Butch or the other brothers, perhaps, would have more luck. But she didn’t know to watch out for them. And that was the problem.

Chapter Twenty-eight I’d booked myself into a motel just outside of town. Technically, I wasn’t even gone yet. I was still in Coquille County. I just needed to get away —to become unreachable. I switched my phone off, and then put it on the charge. My suitcase was in the corner of the room, and my keys were on the bed next to me. The motel wasn’t exactly the Ritz. The carpet was worn; parts of it disintegrated in places where there’s been a lot of foot traffic over the years. The paint was a dull yellow that might have been brighter when it had first been painted, but that could easily have been ten years ago. The bed was dusty when I sat on it, and the bathroom grouting between the tiles was brown, not white. It wasn’t the kind of place I would have checked myself in normally, but then I wasn’t in the state of mind I was usually in, and this place was cheap. I didn’t know how long I was going to have to live on my savings. Besides, no one that knew

me, or anything about me, would think to look for me here. I couldn’t be home right now. The place I lived in was nothing like what I grew up in, and that was the reason I’d gotten it. The further I could be away from my past, the better. But my past had caught up with me, and it all felt the same now. The same ghosts hung in the corners of the room and the same nightmares haunted me even when the coast was supposed to be my escape. I was trying to find a new escape now. I just didn’t know how I was going to do it. My shoulders sagged like I was carrying a heavy weight even though I was just sitting on the bed. My head hurt; the beginnings of a migraine that I hoped wouldn’t come to fruition. I felt like lying down on the bed, closing my eyes, and sleeping the rest of my life away. I hadn’t felt like this since I’d moved to Oregon. I’d forgotten out much I hated being so lethargic and helpless.

I couldn’t sleep yet. I needed to make my plans. I needed to decide on a destination before I fell over and ignored the world. I needed a reason to get up and go on, and planning my escape would be enough. I didn’t know where I wanted to go. I just wanted to get as far away from here, and Indiana, as possible. The coast and the countryside were both tainted now. Deep forests and snow were an option. Maybe somewhere like Montana. It wasn’t a bad idea, and it wasn’t too far, either. Or maybe the desert, someplace like Arizona. I eyed my suitcase again. I would need warmer clothes for Montana. And when I arrived, wherever I was going, I would need a job, too. Just something to tide me over until I could figure out my life. Arizona was looking better. How many hydrologists could there be in the middle of the desert? It might be a place that needed one; I would be the only game in town.

I dropped my head in my hands. Running had seemed like the perfect plan, but it was starting to feel like I’d been stupid. I’d messed up my career and probably ruined my future working in Marine Biology. Word would get around, and who would hire the crazy chick with the weird hang-ups? How was I going to fix that? I’d wanted to get away from Pax. When he’d told me who he was, and what he did, I’d felt betrayed. It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought it could be possible at one point or another. His clothes, his bike, and the way he was with me—it all felt like he’d done this before. But he’d been so kind and so caring. I’d allowed myself to believe that he’d let his guard down around me and been different because of what he felt for me. Yet it had all been a con. One that he’d set up himself. He was like that. I should have known from the start, but I’d been stupid enough to trust him. It was one of my weaknesses. I always trusted

people and then they ended up being backstabbing assholes who had personal agendas. I didn’t quite know what Pax’s agenda had been, but he must have had one. It had to be something with the body. Someone like him wouldn’t fall or look twice at someone like me. Someone like him would never love someone like me. I’d been a fool to think it could be possible at all. I was the dumb bitch who hadn’t grown up enough to know that fairy tales didn’t exist. Look at my life; full of dead bodies and asshole bikers. I’d been an idiot thinking that a charming smile and someone who pretended to be interested in who I was would be enough to build a future on. How do you spell Leah? Oh, I know! L. O. S. E. R. I fell back on the bed and dust danced around me in the shaft of light that came through the half-drawn curtains. I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, watching the dust particles swirl because

of it. The darkness in the room caused by the lack of good lighting mirrored what I felt. I couldn’t move forward, and I hated looked back. The whole thing made me feel like I wanted to throw up. This was the worst place to be in, and I knew it because I’d been stuck in the same place before. It was what drove me from my home in Indiana. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting. Waiting for what? I didn’t know. *** I heard the wind whisper through the leaves. A storm was coming, brewing out of nowhere. The clouds covered the night sky so that there was no moon or starlight to go by. But I didn’t care. I’d arrived home only hours before, and Mom had sent me to find out what was keeping Dad. He should have been home an hour ago, and dinner was getting cold. Nobody was worried. Shit happened on farms.

Machinery broke down or became stuck. It was part of being a farmer. He was probably sitting in the grain truck right now, waiting for someone to come get him because the thing was stuck, or the battery was dead, or the transmission had gone out, or one of a thousand other reasons. I drove down the road, fighting to keep the truck on the road as it shuddered and jittered. The truck was the beater we used around the farm. Every panel on it was dented, and it hadn’t been washed in years, if ever, but it served us well and never failed to get us where we needed to go. I turned off the road and into the field where he was supposed to be working. The headlights on the pickup lit up the grain truck, but the combine was nowhere to be seen. Even if he was still working, it should have been lit up like a Christmas tree; it’s work lights shining brightly. I grimaced. Now I knew what had happened. The combine had broken down somewhere out in the field. The hulking piece of machine had reflectors, so once I got

close the lights should reflect off it, and I’d be able to see him. I’d driven down the end of the field until I reached the last pass the harvester had made, then turned and started across the field. I remembered how my relief had turned to horror after the lights of my truck finally reflected off the hulking green machine. It had stopped on the return pass, and I drove up facing it. As I stepped out of the truck, dread had begun to chill me. Why hadn’t Dad stepped out where I could see him? “Dad?” No answer except for the sound of the wind rustling through the dried stalks of the soybeans we grew. “Dad?” I’d called again as I approached. “If you jump out and make me piss my pants, I’m going to be mad!” As I stepped around the header and passed the large driving wheels in front, I’d seen him, and my scream had echoed all around. Thunder rolled in the distance, drowning out the

end of my scream. I’d run to him, but as I grabbed him, he was already cold. I tugged furiously, desperate to get him out of the machine, crying as I pulled as hard as I could, but all I could do was move the body, not free it. My father’s face lolled toward me as I continued my frantic tugging, speaking to God, begging him to make it a dream, but it wasn’t my father’s face. Instead, it was the bloated, dead face of the man I’d found in the tide pool. I heard laughter behind me. When I spun around, Pax was leaning against the drive tire, a smile on his face. “How you holding up, angel?” he asked. He flashed that charming smile at me. “What the hell are you doing here?” I shouted above the brewing storm. Pax wasn’t shouting. He didn’t need to, his voice carried like I was sitting right next to him in the bar.

“Let’s go back to your place, sweetheart, and have a fuck.” Another clap of thunder made me jump. Pax smiled at me as if I was being endearing. “We can’t just leave him,” I whimpered as I reached into the silent machine and tried to free his arm. I felt the blood, thick and sticky. “Why?” Pax frowned as if confused. “He’s not going anywhere. He’ll still be here when we’re done.” *** I sat up with a gasp, and the silence in the motel room wrapped around me. My ears rang as if I’d been in a nightclub with too loud music. I was breathing hard, and my clothes were drenched with sweat. I shivered and wrapped my arms around me, but the coldness was coming from inside of me.

Shapes danced in the darkness, and I reached over and switched on the lamp next to the bed. The darkness retreated, and I was alone in the seedy little room, feeling scared and ridiculous at the same time. I tried to slow down my breathing and get a hold of myself. It was hard to pull all the pieces together. The dream was so vivid in my mind—that bloated face, my father’s body. I covered my face with my hands and shuddered, trying my best not to break down and cry. It was just a nightmare. A dream. Nothing real. Everything that had gone wrong in my life had already happened. This was just a flashback. I shuddered again. I hated the nightmares. I hated when my past and my present started mixing until I didn’t know where I was or which part was real. I flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time, waiting for the panic and fear to dissipate.

Pax had been in my nightmare. He’d been terrible. That hurt almost more than everything else I’d seen. I could hear his laughter again, the uncaring tone in his voice. I took a deep breath and tried to shove the memory away. Pax was just a selfish idiot. I didn’t care about him. I needed to get away from him because he was bad news. He was bad for me. The attraction I’d felt for him, something that I wouldn’t deny, had only been sexual. There was no way I could have been falling for a man that had it in him to do the wrong things and admit that it was who he was. My dreams were right about him, and it was time I got on board with it. Pax had only been a stepping-stone for me to move forward. I’d been stupid enough to think he could be more, but I was coming to my senses now. I just had to keep reminding myself who I was and who he was. That was how it was going to be. I just needed to keep telling myself the facts. I got up

and brushed my teeth and got ready for bed. As the time ticked past and I managed to rationalize everything, my body relaxed, and my mind ticked slower and slower. Sleep finally overcame me again, and this time I let myself go to the darkness, happy to escape this damned world.

Chapter Twenty-nine There was nothing left for me to do. Conrad didn’t know where she was and he’d been my last hope. Desperation drove a man to do terrible things. I felt like a fool. He already thought I was an idiot and now I’d misplaced my information source and the woman I cared about. And she was in trouble. I’d failed in every way. Failed my club, failed Leah, failed in being a decent human being. The only option now was to go home. It was past midnight, and wherever she was, she wouldn’t be roaming the streets anymore. She was naïve but not stupid, and I wouldn’t find her no matter how hard I looked. The best thing was to go home and wait for sunrise before I carried on with my search. I had to be optimistic that I would find her. I didn’t care about a lot of people in my life; the club and all its members were out of loyalty, not sentiment, but Leah… I would never forgive myself if something happened to her.

I rode home and stripped of all my clothes before I got into bed. I closed my eyes and tried to get some rest, but sleep wouldn’t come. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Leah’s tearstained face on the day she’d told me about her father and her past and how she’d ended up here. Irony was a bitch. I didn’t give a shit about any of the women I’d ever been with. When I’d gotten rid of them, whether it had been the easy way or the hard way, I’d only felt free afterward. Now that I actually cared about Leah, she was the one that had dumped me, and she was the one woman I couldn’t forget about. I rolled around in my sheets for hours. When I did manage to fall asleep, it was a light sleep, and the smallest sounds woke me—a strong gust of wind, and the sounds of my neighbors making love. By the time the sun arose, it was a relief to get out of bed. The night felt more like a struggle than a retreat, and I was glad to get up. My head throbbed

dully with the ache that lack of sleep brings, my eyes felt gritty, and I was in a bad mood. I got into the shower and got dressed in record time, not bothering to make breakfast before leaving the apartment. The only consolation I had was the fact that my brothers were also human. They had to sleep too, but they could work in shifts, and I had only determination and desperation to keep me going. I was running out of time, and the urgency fueled me. I swung a leg over my bike. The air was crisp, and it smelled of the ocean. Instead of reminding me of freedom the way it usually did, it made me think of Leah. I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to look at the ocean again and not see it as an extension of her. The rumble of the V-Twin seemed out of place and too modern for the atmosphere that hung in the air. I rode slowly down the road and tried to organize my thoughts. My mind was still fuzzy from lack of

sleep, but I knew I had to do something today if I was going to save Leah. I just wished I knew what to do. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number while waiting at a light. I was hoping beyond hope that she would answer. Maybe she’d unblocked my number and switched her phone back on. Maybe it had all just been very short-lived. The call cut off straight away again. Irritation crept up on me, bringing with it remnants of yesterday’s black mood. I felt on edge; wired for a fight that I wasn’t going to get. Nothing was going to be able to calm me down, not until I found her. Her disappearance and the fact that she was being impossible, was seriously pissing me off. I had to come up with another plan. I doubted she went very far. Or rather, I hoped she hadn’t gone very far. That, or I hoped she’d gone very far, completely out of state. The only kind of logic I

could go by was that perhaps she was muddled enough that she hadn’t made up her mind yet. I couldn’t imagine she would be eager to run home after what she’d told me, and if she had nowhere to go, maybe she was waiting around here somewhere until a new idea came up. It was the only thing I had to go by. I didn’t know if it was far-fetched or not. I was going to cling onto that even if it was. If I started right here in town and fanned out to the outskirts and then outside of town, maybe I would catch her before she made up her mind. That was, of course, if she hadn’t made up her mind already. It was more than possible that she’d decided on a plan of action right away and she was long, long gone. I rode through town and stopped at all the motels. I charmed the women, threatened the men, and pulled my weapon on a guy. But I found out she wasn’t in any of them. I moved on to a self-service

kind of holiday resort that was empty most of the time, and finally, decided to head out of town. Half an hour out of town the trees thickened and even though I knew the town was just around the last bend if I looked back, it still felt like I was suddenly removed from all civilization. I twisted the throttle, and the bike lunged as if it were eager to stretch its legs. The wind roared in my ears and whipped my clothes. This was why I liked being on a bike. This was the closest to freedom I was ever going to get. I couldn’t speed forever. If it were up to me, I would just keep going and never stop, but I had responsibilities and obligations. More now than ever before. It wasn’t just about the club and the pending gang wars holding me back but the fact that Leah still needed me, even if she was set on believing she didn’t. There was an old family motel here somewhere

among the trees that a lot of seasonal farm workers used. It was cheap, out of the way and locals avoided it. I’d driven past it a couple of times, and the only reason I was going to look there now was because it was somewhere I would have gone to hide. I didn’t think it was Leah’s thing, though. She wasn’t the kind of person that looked like she would rough it or stay in a dive. Unless, of course, it involved the ocean. Or, at least, that was how it used to be. I wasn’t sure how she felt about that now. I felt uneasy about the idea that her love for the ocean might have been compromised. The only thing worse than Leah dying because of me would be Leah losing her passion because of me. A life without a passion was like death, anyway. I turned into the motel and idled across the parking lot, trying to keep the noise down. There was only one car in the parking lot, a red Ford Fusion. If the car were hers, out here in the quiet, the throbbing of my bike would be a dead giveaway, and I didn’t

want Leah to hear and do a runner. I needed to speak to the person behind the front desk, and I schooled my face into a pleasant smile. People were often nervous of me, and they had good enough reason to me. Leathers and bikes didn’t exactly have a good connotation in Coquille. Still, in cases like this, I wished I looked a little more nondescript, a little more like Conrad. I shook my head, irritated with myself. I would under no circumstances wish to be more like him. I just wished I looked less like a crime waiting to happen when it was all about information. After I’d stepped off the bike, ready to go and apply the charm or the muscle, as the case may require, I saw a man step out of a room at the far end of the motel. He didn’t glance my way but turned and disappeared around the corner. The man wore a normal T-shirt and jeans with the heavy boots most men wore around these parts, but something about him and the way he moved, screamed that I should know him. I needed to find

out what was going on. I hurried after him, sprinting to the end of the unit then slowed before peeking around the corner. The man was swinging a leg over a bike tucked in beside the dumpsters. It was obvious the bike was there because the rider was hiding it. It was a bike I knew very well. It was Jonas’s Night Rod Special. All I could think of was that this man had Jonas’s bike. There was only one way he could have the bike of a murder victim. I sprinted around the corner, intending to kill him on the spot—to avenge Jonas and redeem myself with the club. When I’d closed about half the distance, he saw me and froze, his fingers still as he fastened his helmet. I saw red as I charged in like an enraged bull, roaring in rage. I was going to kill this fucker with my bare hands. I was going to beat the shit out of him until he was nothing but a… I slowed, the anger draining out of me as a familiar

face looked back at me. Jonas sat on his bike, in the flesh, his face as surprised as mine. But he was alive. He was as alive as I was. “What the fuck?” was all I could think of saying as I stopped ten feet from him. Jonas chuckled, his confusion diluted already. He was better at this than I was, but then again, he hadn’t thought I was dead. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?” he asked. “Where the fuck have you been? We’ve been turning the whole fucking town upside down looking for you.” Fuck that, the whole world was about to go to war because of his disappearance. With Jonas, alive it meant that the Venom Chasers and the Demon Aviators had it all wrong. They were going to war with each other for no reason at all. Jonas nodded, his dark eyes understanding. I never

thought I would look into them again. For a moment I wanted to pull him into a hug. I didn’t, though. Real men didn’t do that shit. “Fuck, you had us all worried sick,” I said. “It’s a long story.” He looked at his watch. “I have to be somewhere, but if you meet me later, we can have a drink. We can sit down, and I’ll fill you in.” I was gaping, my mouth opening and closing like a fool. It was hard to believe the man all this hype had been about was alive after all. I wanted to know where he’d been and what had happened. How did he justify his disappearance? Was it worth all the hell we’d been through? “Yeah, let’s meet up,” I heard myself say. “Just say where and when.” “I’ll meet you at Salty’s. Be there at eight, and for fuck’s sake, don’t tell Butch or anyone else about this. This is bigger than you know.”

He pressed the button to bring the bike to life, and I watched him leave. I was left behind; still trying to grasp that Jonas was alive. This was the last thing I’d expected. It changed everything. For me. For Jonas. For the club. For Leah. I pulled my phone from my pocket and started to dial Butch, but my thumb hovered over his name in the contact list. For fuck’s sake, don’t tell Butch or anyone else about this. This is bigger than you know… Jonas’ voice echoed in my mind. I stood there for at least thirty seconds as I warred over what to do before I dropped the phone back into my pocket. Ten hours. It was only ten hours until I could get some answers. I turned and hurried back to my bike, praying Leah would remain safe that long.

Chapter Thirty When I’d followed Leah into Salty’s the first time, I’d been surprised she’d chosen such a place. It wasn’t exactly upscale and wholesome, as I’d come to know her to be. The contrast was even starker now. I walked into the dim bar, and the lighting inside wasn’t much of an improvement over the lit streets. I’d spent the rest of the day trying to put two and two together, only half-searching for Leah, riding aimlessly, hoping to spot her. With Jonas being alive everything changed. I didn’t let the club know yet, even though I had a feeling I should have. I wanted to know from Jonas what was going on first. I needed to understand what he was up to before I told Butch. I was the informant, and I’d been messing up for a while, so I wanted to know all the facts. Stale smoke hung in the air. Oregon was a nonsmoking state, but Murray didn’t worry about the rules too much, just like his clientele. I nodded my

greeting at him and took a seat at the bar. There were a few more people around than last time, sitting at the bar or at the small round tables scattered between the door and me. “What will it be?” Murray asked me. “Jack, neat,” I said and slid money across the bar. Murray pried the money off the sticky bar top with sausage fingers before going about getting the drink for me. I looked around. Jonas hadn’t arrived yet, and it was nearly eight. My guts twisted. I needed him to come, and I was afraid he wouldn’t show. The guy was one of the club members, one of my brothers, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust him anymore. The drink appeared, and I sipped it. The taste of the whiskey seemed bland tonight. Maybe it was my mood, or maybe Murray was watering down the drinks. I wouldn’t put it past this place. I stopped doing my business here a while ago

because the ladies liked to be taken somewhere classy if I needed information from them. It felt like we’d come full circle. Everything had started in this shit-hole, and the journey since hadn’t been very long, but it felt like a lifetime. I looked at the seat next to me where Leah had sat and imagined her soft blonde hair, round cheeks, shy blush, and dimples. I glanced at the clock. It was already a quarter past eight, and I realized that Jonas wasn’t going to show. The fuss over the body had been so big because it had coincided with Jonas’s disappearance. Now it seemed stupid because he was alive. I glanced toward the door. Fifteen more minutes, and I were out of there, and I’d call Butch and let him know Jonas was fucking with us. The guy had pulled a disappearing trick. I’d wanted to know why, to present the complete picture, but I would take what I could get. Just as I thought it, the door

opened and Murray looked up. I followed his gaze, and Jonas entered and walked toward me. There was something different about him. He was still the brother I knew, but his walk, his attitude, was different. He had an air of I-have-arrived about him, and his stride was arrogant. His eyes were dark and a little menacing when he smiled at me, and it made me feel uneasy. Brothers didn’t look at each other this way, no matter how rough things got in the club. “I got held up,” he said, sitting on the stool beside me and slapping his hand down on the bar. Murray raised an eyebrow at him. “Patrón, Murray!” he called, pointing at the bar in front of him with a finger. I didn’t say anything about his choice of alcohol, but I was pretty sure that hadn’t been his standard drink before. “It’s not a problem.” I felt like I had to say that

because I needed something from him. The real problem was that fact that Jonas was here and not in the county morgue. “What I want to know is where you’ve been, man. Everyone has been looking for you. There’s a shit-load of problems because of your disappearance.” I ground my teeth in annoyance. Problems? That was an understatement. Jonas downed his shot then snarled silently before he pointed at the glass then turned to face me. “I know. I’ve heard the gossip.” I frowned. “You’ve been in town all this fucking time? You knew we were turning the fucking town upside down looking for you and you did nothing?” Jonas nodded again. “Never left.” He smiled but said nothing else. I shook my head. I had no idea what was going on. I was also getting irritated with his cryptic responses. What was this, twenty questions? Did I

have to draw the information out of him bit by bit before he was going to tell me anything? “So what the fuck happened?” Maybe my question would be broad enough. “Why did you leave us with our dicks hanging out?” Jonas tossed back the second shot, sneered, put the glass down and pointed again. “I feel bad about that, Pax. I really do. But if you want to move forward in life sometimes you need to cut your ties to the past.” I frowned. “Cut your ties to the past?” Jonas waited while Murray filled his glass then picked it up and held the glass to his lips for a moment. My guess was he was delaying. Finally, he tossed the liquid back and put the glass down. Murray refilled it as Jonas looked at me. “The VCMC was part of my life, Pax. They made me who I am. But no more.”

“What do you mean, ‘no more’? We’ve always had your back.” “I know. But it’s not enough anymore.” He tossed back his shot. If he kept going like that, he was going to be face down on the floor before I found out shit. “So I decided to start my own club.” I blinked at Jonas, stunned. “Your own club.” It was a statement, and I couldn’t believe it. “You can’t start your own club! Butch would never approve it!” “Fuck Butch! It’s why I dropped out. He likes to play his stupid little power games, and you pussies just go along with him! That’s bullshit, Pax. I don’t need his fucking permission.” I stared at him. He’d gone mad. Nobody started a motorcycle club in Coquille without the Chasers permission, and that meant Butch. “You can’t do this! Butch will hunt you down and kill you if you

start a club without his blessing.” “Already did. The Incubus Hands.” I stared at him. He was crazy. “You know the Chasers are going to hunt you down and wipe you out! What’s wrong with you?” “They won’t. They’re going to be too busy. The Chasers and the Aviators both. And when it’s over, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces.” Suddenly it clicked. “You’re trying to start the war.” He smiled at me. “You always were the smart one.” “You killed your own brothers?” “They’re not my brothers. Not anymore.” “You motherfucker!” I snarled softly as I began to

slide off the stool. I was going to kick his ass then drag his sorry ass back to Butch, but I froze when the pistol appeared in his hand. It was between his body and the bar, out of sight of all but me. “Sit down, Pax. I don’t want to kill you, especially here, but I will.” “You cocksucker.” He smiled, but it was cold. “Sticks and stones and all that bullshit. Yeah, I killed them. I killed that drunk for a body when I went missing. When that wasn’t enough, I killed seven more, three Chasers and four Aviators. War is inevitable now. It can’t be stopped. You each think the other did it.” “And now you’re going to kill me?” I hissed. “I can’t have you telling Butch about me. I had a place in the Hands for you. I could have used someone like you.” “Why? Just tell me why.”

“Why, what?” “Why’d you do it?” He smiled. “It was time for a shakeup. The Chasers and the Aviators, they’ve been at each other’s throats forever. But I’m going to bring peace to Coquille. After you two have fucked each other until you’re exhausted, the Hands will step in and clean up the mess.” “You fucking bastard. We’re going to gut you and anyone connected to you. The fucking Chasers will own your ass.” “Really? How’re you doing so far?” He smiled. “My boys, they know the plan. They’ve got my back. And once you’re out of the way…” He shrugged and his smile widened. “Nobody’s going to gut me. I’m already fucking dead, remember?” “You’re going to have to shoot me right here,” I

snarled. “Okay.”

Chapter Thirty-one I lunged for Jonas just as he squeezed the trigger. The shot was deafening inside the bar, and the few customers made for the door as Jonas and I crashed to the ground. Jonas was older than I was, but he was well built with thick muscles. What advantage I might have in youth and speed was offset by his experience, plus he was a brawler and could take a punch. The pistol fired again as I tried to twist the gun from his grasp, and I felt the bite as the slide tried to reciprocate against my hand. Now that his gun was jammed and he couldn’t shoot me, I knew we were on more of an equal footing. I leaped off him, trying to get to my feet and get some distance so I could draw my own weapon, but Jonas was no fool, and he charged into me before I could get the pistol clear and around. He tackled me like a Defensive End, roaring as he lifted me from my feet and drove me backward into the stools and the bar. I’m surprised I didn’t hear

my spine snap from the impact, and there was no way I could hang onto my pistol after a hit like that. As I roared in pain, the pistol went flying, crashing into bottles behind the bar and landing God knows where. So it was going to be a down and dirty street fight? Good. Fucking someone up with my fists would allow me to work out all my frustrations. With a scream of rage and pain, I clapped my hands hard against his ears, the over-pressure from the impact making him bellow in pain. I was going to kill this motherfucker with my bare hands. Jonas stumbled back, off balance by my slap and I charged in. I threw a left jab, then followed with a roundhouse right, putting my back and shoulder into the punch. He may have been hurt, but he wasn’t out. He blocked the left and ducked under the right, driving a meaty fist into my ribs as I overextended from my miss. The blow to the ribs hurt like a bitch, but I followed the swing rather than trying to check it

and open myself up to another punch. I pivoted on my toe then drove the same right that just missed backward. I may have missed with my fist, but I didn’t miss with my elbow. I felt the impact of my hard elbow against soft flesh, then a warm and wet spray against my neck. I tried to turn back, but before I could, he had me around the neck with one meaty arm, his other hand on the back of my neck. I had seconds before he choked me out. Rather than go for the arm, the natural and instinctive move, I reached back and lower as he slammed into my back. I grabbed a hand full of cock, clamped down, and twisted as hard as I could. Jonas’ scream next to my ear was earsplitting, but he let me go as he grabbed for my hand. He backpedaled, one hand on the wrist of the hand that had his cock in a vice, the other on my jacket as he tried to drag me off of him. His pain gave him strength, and he hauled me

backward, ripping my hand from his crotch as he whirled me around. I slid out of my jacket, my shirt ripping free as I struggled to keep my feet. He charged after me, his face a ruined mess from his broken nose and split lips. I took a stance and fired a straight right into his face as he came. I hit him so hard I was afraid I’d broken my hand, and I felt the impact all the way to my shoulder, but he never slowed. We crashed into the wall with an impact that made my teeth rattle. We traded body blows for a moment, but in so close they didn’t have much strength behind them. I tried to shove him off of me, wanting to get some room to maneuver, but Jonas wanted to stay in the clench. I knew his weakness was his mangled face, so I grabbed the back of his head and snapped my head forward. The impact left me staggered, and seeing stars, but Jonas reeled back and fell. It took me a moment to shake off the headbutt. Jonas was scrambling to his feet as I reached him. I must have still been a little

woozy because I left myself open and he drove a hard fist straight into my balls. I bellowed out my pain, my stomach clenching as it tried to empty itself. I doubled over, both hands going to my groin as I stumbled back and tried to recover from the crippling blow without going to my knees. We were both hurting now; two bulls engaged in a fight to the death. Jonas came at me again, and I grabbed him, falling to my back as I held his jacket, putting my feet up and catching him in the chest to lever him over me. He landed on his back with a crash. I tried to keep my grip on his jacket, but it was wrenched free. I was still slowed by the blow to my balls, but I scrambled to my feet as fast as I could, preparing to defend myself against Jonas if he was coming for me, or press my advantage if I had him on the ropes. Jonas must have had the same idea as he was also scrambling to his feet. His jacket was torn and hanging on him at an odd angle. He wrenched it free and threw it aside in disgust.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, you motherfucker!” Jonas snarled. “Come on, you fucker!” I said, slapping myself on my bare, blood-covered chest. I was beyond thinking and rational thought; the red fog of rage clouded my judgment. This asshole had ruined everything, and I wanted to rip his fucking throat out. We took the two steps toward each other to close the distance, throwing punches as we entered combat range. We didn’t even try to block our opponent, willing to take a hit to deliver one. After a second devastating left to my face, I realized that I couldn’t stand toe to toe with him. He was hurt, bad, but he was beyond feeling any more pain. I grabbed the back of his head and tried to yank him down into my fast-rising knee. It would have been the closer, but he blocked it, taking the blow to his ribs and shoulder instead of his face. He began to twist away, and I grabbed his shirt to

try to hold him, but he powered out of the grip, leaving me holding his shirt minus the one sleeve he still wore. We stared at each other for a moment, both of us surprised that he had escaped so easily before we charged into each other again. Our bodies slammed together with the sound of a hammer on meat; our hands at each other’s faces as we strained against each other in a mortal test of strength and pain endurance. He was trying to claw my eyes out as I went for his throat, our other hands locked around our opponent’s wrist. We grunted and strained against each other, and I felt his fingers tearing the flesh on my face. I whipped my face free of his grip and tried to take a step back, but our legs tangled and we went to the floor. He drew my head down with an arm around the back of my neck as he wrapped his legs around my waist and locked his ankles. I grunted and strained,

trying to break free as I drove blow after blow into his side. We were locked up—Jonas unable to let me go and me unable to break free. A stalemate. I let him hold me for a moment, grimacing against the pain as I panted, summoning my strength for a final convulsive effort. With a bellow, I lunged, putting everything into my final effort to escape. I felt his arm slipping on my sweaty skin as he roared in effort. I continued to strain against him, our screams of defiance loud as his arm slipped a little more. It felt like I was going to rip my arms from their sockets, my muscles burning in effort, then I was free. I was nearly spent as I stumbled to my feet. We were gasping and weaving, but we couldn’t stop. We had to finish it. Jonas charged again, and I wrapped him up as we collided. We went through the door and landed on the pavement outside. We rolled and tumbled, the

rough pavement shredding our backs and arms but we felt nothing, so intent on killing each other that nothing else mattered. We froze, our muscles standing in stark relief as we snarled into each other’s face, our hands wrapped around the other’s throat. Jonas’ turned red as his face twisted in anguish, but my own vision was dimming and going red at the edges. He was on top, his spittle falling on my face. I didn’t know if I could outlast him, and with the last of my strength, I thrust with my hips and rolled, trying to break his hold. It didn’t work. My chest was about to explode, my vision dimming more, yet I hung on, trying to crush the life out of him before he did the same to me. Suddenly his hands were gone, and I could breathe, but before I could even take a breath, he grabbed my arms and jerked. It was an unexpected move, and he managed to rip my hands free. I was off balance, and he lunged with his hips, rolling over then slowly scrambling to his feet.

Only hate and rage kept us going. We were both covered in our own blood and the blood of our foe, our bodies slick with sweat. He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me up. I fired a left into his gut with everything I had left. He grunted and doubled over, then drove into me again. I crashed into his bike, knocking it to the ground as we tumbled over it. I roared in pain as the hard bits of the machine dug in as he fell over me, his weight landing on me making it worse. We were on the ground beside his machine, grunting in effort and pain as we held each other’s head under our elbow and drove blow after blow into our enemy with our free hand. I had screamed an instant before Jonas did the same, our bodies locked by the electricity pouring through us. We’d been so busy trying to fuck each other up we hadn’t even heard the police arrive. But the Tasers got our attention.

As the agony ended, we slumped, my body draped over Jonas before rough hands dragged me off. My head was pressed into the pavement with a knee on my neck, and my hands were yanked behind me. And an instant later, I felt the bite of the cuffs being tightened. At least Jonas was getting the same treatment. Just as I began to regain control of my body, I was jerked to my feet, a cop on each arm, and they weren’t being gentle. “I’m going to kill you, Jonas! You hear me! I’m going to fucking kill you for what you did!” I shouted as they dragged me away and slammed me into the back of a cruiser. I was hauled to the police station. I looked like shit and felt worse. Every muscle in my body hurt, and I had bled all over the back of the police car. Good, serves them right for interfering in a club matter. I didn’t see Jonas again, but I assumed he was getting the same treatment I was. I went

through processing and then was tossed into a cage. I’d been here before. I knew the drill. All they had me on was disturbing the peace. They would try assault and battery, but I would claim self-defense and beat that. After all, Jonas was the one that pulled the gun. What I needed was my phone call. I need to let Butch know that Jonas was alive and what he was doing. I would get it in due time, but every minute it was delayed put Leah in more danger. The Chasers had to know they were being played.

Chapter Thirty-two When I woke up, everything felt wrong. The heavy weight that depression sometimes left on me was worse than before. Instead of feeling like it was okay to not be okay, the way that I knew I should, I felt like a failure for not being able to beat it. I rolled over and stared at the ugly mustard colored wall, wishing I were home and wishing I never had to go back there at the same time. I worked up the courage to get out of bed and made it to the shower. It wasn’t the cleanest place I’d ever seen, and I made my bathroom routine as quick as I could. I towel-dried my hair, and when I looked in the mirror, I hardly recognized the person staring back at me. The dark circles under my eyes had gotten worse, my hair wasn’t styled the way it usually was, and my skin looked pasty in the fluorescent light. I got dressed and walked back to the bedroom where I paged through a year-old magazine, then clicked on the television only to click it off after I

flipped through all the channels. I was bored out of my mind, and this was my first official day away from the real world. There was nothing to distract me from what I was feeling and no one to turn to. I missed Pax. I hated that I did, I hated that I’d admitted to it, but the fact was that I had been able to speak to him about whatever bothered me. He’d been there for me even though it all been a lie. I felt betrayed and heartbroken, independent and liberated. It was a conflicted concoction of emotions, and I hated it. Whenever I thought of Pax, his good intentions and the time we spent together were mixed with what he told me about who he was and the nightmare I had of him. I didn’t know if I could trust him anymore, and that was the problem. That was another reason I had to get away. If I couldn’t trust myself, it was that much more important that I could trust someone else. Abby had given up on me, and that left Pax. The man that had lied to me.

It was all just one big mess. Black and darkness everywhere. I hated how I felt like such a pathetic loser. I took a deep breath and got up. Stepping outside would make me feel better. I opened the door and a beautiful day greeted me. The smell of the ocean was strong in the air as if the wind had brought it to my doorstep. My first reaction was contentment, and then dread followed on its heels. Another braid of conflict. Fantastic. I spent a bit of time in the sun, sitting on the little patch of grass that was the only green in the concrete and asphalt all around me. The sun was warm, but it did nothing to heat me up on the inside or to drive away the darkness that hung over me like a cloud. I sighed, and got up and walked to my room. I felt like I was being watched, like the entire world was beginning to conspire against me. Dread settled in my stomach. I’d found a dead body and my life was starting to fall apart. It wouldn’t be out of place if someone were following me. Maybe whoever killed the others was now going to kill me.

I stopped. I looked slowly around but didn’t see anyone. A new dread crept in, and it chilled me more than anything before. Paranoia. That was what it was. I was losing my mind. I’d finally snapped, and I was descending into madness. I took a deep breath before I hurried to my room and closed the door behind me, turning the deadbolt in the door so that I was locked in. I turned my back to the door and blew out the breath I’d been holding. I wanted to cry. On top of all my other problems, I was going mad. Maybe it was time to move on. I was being a pain in my own ass. I was making everything a hell of a lot worse than it needed to be. That was what I’d been doing since the start. I stood, back against the door, gently bumping the back of my head against it before I slammed my head back hard. It hurt. It hurt a lot, and now I had a headache, but it focused me. I knew that I was being an idiot now. And still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being

watched. Even inside, with the door locked and the curtains drawn, I felt like there were eyes on me. I needed to get out of there. If I could just go somewhere else—somewhere I would be able to feel safer. My plans to go to Montana or Arizona weren’t set yet. I didn’t want to run away. I was scared to run away. I was scared that running away would mean that something would chase me again. Eventually, I was going to run out of places to hide. At the same time, I was scared that if I stayed this shit would never stop haunting me. I was caught in a place where I felt like everything I did was wrong, no matter what it was. I’d been here before. I was here again. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I shoved myself off the door and threw the few things I’d removed back into my bag. I chucked the bag into the back of the rented Ford and drove to the office. There was nobody around, but I still felt the creeping nerves, like someone was watching. I

was losing it, and I knew it, and that scared me more than anything. I wanted to go home, where I felt safe, but if someone were after me, I wouldn’t be safe there. They would know where I lived. They who? I didn’t know, but panic was rising within me. I needed to go somewhere I would be protected. The first person that popped into my head was Pax. I shook off the thought. He wasn’t an option anymore. He never should have been. The second person was Abby. I didn’t want to go to her, either. She would just tell me that I was being silly. I probably was, but I didn’t want her to confirm it for me. She had her life together, and everything I thought I had was falling apart. I felt like a failure next to her, and I didn’t need that on top of everything else. And if I was right, I didn’t want to drag her down with me. When I reached the outskirts of Coquille, I’d decided the police station was my best option, but I didn’t know where it was. I’d taken my GPS from

my car, but it was in the trunk, in a suitcase, and I damn sure wasn’t stopping and getting out of the car. I was paralyzed with fear, jumping at shadows and ghosts. I knew it was stupid, but I couldn’t help it. I drove aimlessly for a while, trying to see if anyone was following me as I hoped to stumble across the police station. I felt like an idiot. I was getting to a point where I was starting to look crazy. Maybe I was crazy. All of this was crazy. Maybe going home was exactly what I needed to do. “This is so fucking stupid!” I told myself. I made up my mind. I was going home. I was going home, and I was going to put my fucking life back together. I’d probably been fired, but I could go and reapply for the job. Who knows, maybe they would hire me. If not, then I could find another job somewhere else. But this had to stop. The thought that I was becoming deranged scared me into action.

I began to make turns with a clear purpose. I was going the fuck home, and I was putting this shit behind me. As I approached home, I noticed a bike parked beside my car. At first, I thought it was Pax, but as I got closer, I realized the bike was the wrong color, and it had a windshield that Pax’s didn’t have. Fear clutched at my heart, and I drove past without stopping. I wasn’t paranoid after all. This was real. It wasn’t Pax or anyone else I knew, but seeing him waiting for me to get home filled me with dread. The feeling of being watched became stronger. Someone was after me, and I had no idea why. I watched in the rearview as the bike pulled out behind me. I whimpered. He must have recognized me as I drove past. I continued to watch the rearview. I made a couple of turns for no reason, and each time the bike turned with me, I whimpered. There was no doubt I was being followed, and my blood ran as cold as

ice. I didn’t know what to do. I drove around, afraid to stop, but with nowhere to go, until I pulled into a gas station. The bike pulled in behind me, and I fought tears as I dug in my bag, frantically looking for my phone. I had a moment of panic when I couldn’t find it, thinking I’d left it at the motel, but then relief washed through me when I finally found it. “9-1-1 Emergency,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “Yes! This is Leah Tennyson. I’m being followed by a man on a motorcycle,” I said, watching the man on the motorcycle speak into his own phone. “Where are you now, Ms. Tennyson?” “I’m at the Shell station on Ocean Front!” “Is the motorcyclist there also?” “Yes! He followed me all around town and pulled

in right behind me.” “Are you inside?” “No! I’m afraid to get out of my car!” “Remain in your car and lock the doors. I’m dispatching an officer right now. Can you describe the motorcycle?” “It’s black. That’s all I know.” “What kind of car are you driving?” “A red Ford Fusion.” “License plate?” “I don’t know. It’s a rental.” “Very well, Ms. Tennyson. I’ll remain on the line until the officer arrives.” I sat in silence for a moment. “The officer should be on the scene any

moment,” the emergency operator said. Good to her word, a dozen heartbeats later, a Coquille police cruiser pulled into the parking lot; its lights popping on as it approached the motorcycle. I heard the bike roar as it shot away, the cruiser in pursuit, it’s siren wailing as it passed. “The bike is running, and the car is chasing it,” I said. I didn’t know if I was relieved or upset. “Do you have someplace to go? Family or a friend’s house? Someplace that’s not your home?” I thought about it. Abby was still out, but I remembered the message Pax left—the one I’d ignored. It apparently wasn’t just a ploy to have me call him after all. “Yes, I think so.” “Go there. If you notice any additional suspicious activity, contact us again.”

“Did the officer catch the guy?” “No, I’m sorry,” the dispatcher said. “He evaded the officer. But we have a description of the bike and the license plate number. We’ll pick him up.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Thank you very much.” “Are you okay, now, Ms. Tennyson. Should I dispatch another officer?” “No. I’m okay now. Thank you.” “Very well. Contact us if you see the motorcycle again.” “I will, thank you,” I said, but I wasn’t sure she heard me. I looked at my phone for a moment, took a deep breath, and dialed Pax’s number.

Chapter Thirty-three I’d called Butch, leaving a detailed message on his voicemail and telling him where I was. I’d been an overnight guest of the Coquille City Police before, and I was again. Normally I didn’t worry about it, but Leah’s safety was on the line now, and the club doubted me. I was pacing in my little six by twelve cell when I heard the thump of the lock being opened. “Paxton Park? You’re free to go.” I said nothing but nodded my thanks as the officer stepped aside and then escorted me out. I stopped and picked up my personal items, and then they released me into Butch’s custody. “You look like you’ve been et by wolf and shit over a cliff,” Butch said as we stepped outside. “You got my message?” “Yeah. When I first heard it, I thought you were

fucking drunk, especially the way you were slurring.” “Is Jonas still in the clink?” I asked as I sat down in the club van. “No. He was bailed out last night.” “Fuck!” “Yeah. That’s my fucking fault. I should have moved faster when you called.” “Where were you?” “I was fucking the old lady, alright? By the time she was done sucking my cock, it was too late to bail you out. How the fuck did you know he wasn’t dead, and how did you find him?” “Accident. I was still trying to track Leah down to find out what she knows, and I bumped into him. I told you she didn’t know shit about his death. Fuck,

he wasn’t even dead.” “Jesus Christ. You are the luckiest bastard I know.” I didn’t feel very lucky. “Have you contacted the Aviators?” “Yeah. We have a meet later this afternoon. I want you to be there, but first, I want to know everything.” Butch would never admit he was wrong, or apologize, but the fact he’d included me when talking to the Aviators said a lot. We rode in silence as Butch drove us back to the clubhouse. I tried to check my phone but it was smashed—the screen cracked with rainbow lines. It would come on, but nothing worked so I turned it off. That was something I was going to have to replace as soon as possible. We pulled into the clubhouse. My bike was already there, and the key was in my pocket. Butch led me

inside. “Okay, you assholes! Listen up while Pax brings us up to speed.” He nodded to me. I started with the big news in case anyone hadn’t heard. “Jonas is alive.” I then gave them the rundown on everything I’d learned from him. Most of this information was new because, in my phone message to Butch, I’d only given him the highlights of how Jonas was alive and had killed the other brothers, and some Aviators, to start a war. When I’d finished, my brothers stood in stunned silence. “That motherfucking douche waffle,” Butch muttered. “I always knew he was an ambitious shit eater, but to go out and start his own club without our permission, and kill brothers too? He’s going to fucking regret fucking with us. I’m going to cut his cock off and shove it so far up his ass it comes out his fucking mouth.”

The rest of my brothers rumbled in agreement, and Butch glanced at his phone. “We’ve got two hours before we meet the fucking Aviators. Pax, go home and get cleaned up. You still look like shit.” He handed me my jacket. “And you’re not wearing your colors.” I took the jacket from him and slipped it on. I didn’t have on a shirt, but it didn’t matter. The jacket is what defined me. I nodded, and he slapped me on the shoulder. It hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t care. I walked out of the clubhouse and mounted up. Home for a shower and clothes, then phone, then back to the clubhouse. I rode through town, my jacket flapping in the wind. Things were finally beginning to go my way, but I wasn’t happy. I was back in the good graces of the club, and perhaps we could avert a war that nobody wanted, but I still hadn’t found Leah, and I needed to. I ground my teeth together. I should just let her go. Having her get as far away from me as

possible was the best thing she could do. She didn’t need a man like me in her life. The problem was, I wanted her. She had touched something inside of me with her innocent ways and her struggle to put her past behind her. I knew about that struggle. I’d tried to put my past behind me as well. I thought I had—that I’d finally found a family with the Venom Chasers. I thought they’d give me what my foster parents never could. I’d had to fight and scrape and go it alone my entire life until the Chasers had accepted me. But I realized now that I was nothing but a tool, that’s all I ever was, and that’s all any of us were. Tools to be used for the betterment of the club. But that wasn’t enough for me anymore. I wanted to be more than a tool. I wanted someone to care, someone that wanted me. Leah was like that. She wanted me, until she didn’t —until she’d found out the type of guy I was. But I wasn’t that guy anymore. Not since the club had doubted my loyalty. The first time I had a problem

delivering what they wanted, they’d cast me aside as no longer useful. Sure, they were happy now that I’d uncovered a plot to take the club down, but how long would that last. Until the next time, I couldn’t find out something? Well, fuck that! I’d done what I could to call the Chasers off Leah, and I would continue to support the club, but my relationship with the club had changed. The brothers didn’t have my back, not the way I thought they did, and nothing would ever be the same. I backed the bike into my apartment complex, still chewing over the bitterness of how I’d been treated. I frowned. There was a red Ford sitting in my spot. I’d seen the car before, but I couldn’t remember where. I pulled the bike in and parked it behind the car, blocking it in. I didn’t know whom the fucker was, but if they tried to leave before I did, they were going to have a bad, fucking day. The annoyance of the car being in my spot only

compounded my bad mood. I didn’t have time to go knocking on doors to find the fucker, but if he came to me to get his car out, he was fucked. I was still sore from Jonas trying to kick my ass, but I was more than a match for a pussy that drove a Fusion. I stopped as my door came into view. Leah looked at me, but she didn’t smile or stand up. She only stared at me like a dog waiting to be kicked by his master. My heart thudded in my chest at her emptyeyed stare. Had the Chasers already found her? If Butch had carried through on his threat, I would kill him. I would kill any man that touched her. “Leah! Are you okay?” I asked as I took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “I had nowhere else to go. You didn’t answer your phone.” She’d spoken softly as if she were collapsing in on herself, her spirit being crushed under the weight of her problems. “It’s broken. What’s happened? What’s wrong with

you?” I unlocked the door and gently pulled her inside. “Someone was following me. It’s death.” “Death?” I asked, trying to get my head around what she was saying. “What do you mean, death?” “Death. The grim reaper. He follows me everywhere. He killed my father, then that man in the ocean, then the others. Now he’s following me.” She looked at me, her eyes pleading, but I didn’t know what she was talking about. “Following you? How?” “Today, he was waiting at my house on a motorcycle. The police chased him away, but he’ll find me again.” I let out a breath of relief then pulled her into a hug. “You’re just confused,” I said. “That’s just my club looking…” I began, but then trailed off when I

realized that didn’t make sense either. I’d called Butch last night and left the news. “You said it was today?” She nodded but didn’t say anything, her arms tight around me. “Fuck,” I muttered. The man at her house wasn’t one of us. “It’s okay,” I whispered, holding her tight. “There’s a lot going on right now, and you’ve gotten caught up in the middle of it.” “I don’t know what to do. I feel like everywhere I turn, death is waiting for me.” I shushed her. “No. None of this has anything to do with you. But you’re not in danger anymore.” “I am,” she said, her voice so weak it broke my heart. She was carrying so much pain, and I was only adding to it. I pushed her gently back. “No. I’ll protect you,

okay?” For the first time since I saw her sitting on the step leading up to my apartment, I saw a spark of hope. “How?” I knew she wouldn’t want to hear it, but she had to before she could understand what was going on. “The dead body you found. That—” she began to shake her head frantically. I grabbed her head and held it still. “Listen to me!” I ordered, my voice harsh. “That man was killed. He was murdered, you understand? He was murdered and dumped in the ocean so we’d find it.” I stared at her wide eyes. “It has nothing to do with you!” “But my Dad!” “It was an accident, Leah. You didn’t cause it. Had you been there, you might not have even been able to prevent it.” I released her face and grabbed her shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. “You need to snap out of this. Listen to me. Nothing that has

happened to you since you found the body has anything to do with you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Do you understand what I’m saying? That body was placed there so it would be found.” I didn’t know if what I said was strictly true, but it was close enough. Jonas murdered someone to provide a body to cover his tracks and start a war. “But the man…?” she whispered. “He’s just a man. Someone that’s looking for you. I don’t know why. But you can stay here until we sort it out.” She nodded. “You’ll stay with me?” I felt my guts twist. “I will, but I have to go first. I have something to do. It’s for you,” I added as she began to shake her head again. “I have to go talk to some people. There’s a war coming, and I have to try to stop it. It won’t take long then I’ll come back here, and you’ll be safe.”

“But—” “Just stay in the apartment and keep the door locked. Is that your red car downstairs?” She nodded. “Give me the keys,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’ll bring your bags up. You’ll be safe here until I get back.” “But then what?” she asked. I looked at her. She seemed like she was starting to think again. The talk about death following her and the grim reaper, that was worrisome. If she really believed that, she had bigger problems than finding a dead body. “Then we’ll figure out the next step.” She handed me her keys, and I smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ll be right back.” I trotted down the steps and returned with her three bags. I tossed them on my unmade bed. “I have to

grab a shower, then I have to go. But I’ll be back, I promise.” I pulled her into my arms again, held her for a moment, and then gave her a quick kiss to seal the deal. She looked at me, as if seeing me for the first time, and her brow furrowed. “What happened to you?” “A fight. The body in the ocean, well, the man I thought it was paid me a visit.” I saw her go pale. “How?” “He wasn’t dead. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This has nothing to do with you. You just happened to find the body that I was supposed to find. He’s causing trouble, and you’ve gotten caught in the middle of it.” “Why?”

“Why what? Why was I supposed to find the body? Because I was looking for the man.” I swallowed hard, not wanting to upset her, but I had to reach her. “The body, it was mutilated, wasn’t it?” My tone made the question a statement. She stared at me then nodded slowly. “I only saw the face, but yes,” she whispered. “How did you know?” I nodded, my lips tight. “It had to be for his plan to work. Do you hear me? This has been one big setup since the very beginning. You just happened to be the one to find the body. Death isn’t following you. You just happened to step into the middle of something you didn’t know about. It wasn’t fate; it was planned. Someone planned this from the beginning. None of us knew anything about it until yesterday.” “What?” she asked, her voice becoming stronger. Maybe I was finally reaching her.

“The man who I thought was dead, Jonas Brandt, was a member of my club. He’s trying to start a war between the Chasers and the Aviators. You remember those two guys that came into the bar that night? Jonas, the man I thought you found, is trying to cause our two clubs to go to war so he could step in and pick up the pieces. He played me, you, everyone. You finding the corpse made a mess of things.” I held up my hand when she started to protest. “I know you didn’t mean too, but by you finding the corpse, you prevented me from finding it. I was there, walking on the beach, when you found it. I saw it all. If I’d found the mutilated body, I would have assumed it was Jonas, and the war would have started. But you finding it, then freaking out, prevented me from discovering if the man was Jonas, or not. That gave us time and forced Jonas’ hand. He killed those other people. He did it to try to force the war.” I paused and watched her face, trying to see if any of what I was telling her was sinking in. “This is all on Jonas. Nothing you did or didn’t do would have changed anything.”

“And now?” she asked. “Now, I have to get cleaned up and try to stop the war.” “And you’ll come back here when you’re done?” “Straight back here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” She nodded. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Chapter Thirty-four I showered in record time. I didn’t have time to allow the water to leach the aches and pains from my body. I threw on the first clothes that came to hand, gave Leah a quick kiss, and then bolted for the door. “Lock it behind me,” I ordered as she shut the door. I waited until I heard the bolt snap closed, then turned and trotted down the steps. I spent a frustrating hour at the cell phone store, waiting while my phone was replaced; the woman handling my replacement seemed in no hurry despite the fact that I told her I was. Wasn’t that the way of the world? The bigger the hurry you’re in, the more people seemed to take their time. The moment my phone was ready, I snatched it up, paid, and bolted from the store. I had ten minutes to make a fifteen-minute ride, and I roared out of the parking on a wave of V-Twin thunder.

I slammed to a stop in the parking lot of the clubhouse with scant minutes to spare. I didn’t even dismount as the rest of the VCMC were already beginning to mount up. “Nice of you to fucking join us,” Butch said, his voice dripping sarcasm. “I had to get a new phone, and that took longer than I thought.” Butch grunted as he plopped his ass on his Harley and brought the machine to life. We flowed out of the parking lot with me being last in line. It didn’t matter; I had no idea where we were going anyway. We rode through town and pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned shopping center on the edge of town. As we rode across the cracked and weedchoked parking lot, I could see twenty or so bikes with rough looking men standing around. With twenty of them and fifteen of us, if shit went south,

there was going to be a lot of blood spilled. We looped around and parked our bikes. As we dismounted, the Aviators formed a line, and we did the same. We were like two medieval armies lining up for battle. Butch pointed to Gregor and me, flicking his hand to motion us forward with him. It was mostly for show. Gregor was always his righthand man, and I already knew I was meeting with the Aviators, but Butch was a showman and played his part to the hilt. As we started across the parking lot, three Aviators broke away from their group and approached. We stopped about half way between the two rows of bikes, with the Aviators stopping only a couple feet in front of us. “What do you want, Butch?” one of the asshole Aviators growled. “We have news on who took down your boys.”

“Are you saying it wasn’t you? Because the rumor on the street says that it was.” “It wasn’t us.” “Who was it then?” “Jonas Brandt.” The three aviators looked at each other. “Isn’t he your number two?” “Was.” “What do you mean, was?” “He’s gone rogue. He planted a body and tried to set up the Aviators to take the fall for it.” “Why would he do that?” Butch smiled. “Because he wants a war so he can ride in and take over.”

The Aviator’s eyes narrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Butch jerked his thumb at me. “This is Pax—my eyes and ears. We thought you’d taken Jonas out and—” “We didn’t do shit!” Butch held up his hand. “We know. Now. But we were trying to find out what happened to Jonas. The first body that was found, the one dumped in the ocean, we thought it was him, and we thought you did it.” I saw the Aviators go stiff as if they were preparing for an attack, but Butch kept going. “We couldn’t confirm the identity of the body, and we wanted to be sure before we did anything. Good thing we did because we now know Jonas is still alive. I understand you lost four?”

“Yeah. We were looking at you, but nobody saw a Chaser in our territory. We are still trying to determine who did it.” “Jonas did it,” Butch said. “He’s trying to put us at each other’s throat.” “You’re number two?” “I told you, not anymore. The hits were completely unsanctioned. In fact, we thought he was dead when he did it.” “Why? What’s his game?” “He wants to start a new club, and he wants us out of the way. If we fuck each other over, he can move in. Take over our smack and your guns. He’ll have the whole pie, all to himself.” “So you won’t have a problem with us killing him?”

Butch smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No. You’ll be doing us a favor.” “How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Butch jerked his thumb at me again. “See him? He was beating the shit out of Jonas to get the information. He would have killed him, but the cops showed up before he could finish the job.” The Aviator looked at me. “I’m not sure who was killing who,” he mocked. “How did you find him?” “Luck,” I admitted. “I just happened to see him. He was staying at the Sleepy Eye Motel.” “What a shit-hole,” the Aviator sneered. “What were you doing there?” “Club business.” The Aviator grunted as he sucked on his teeth.

“You know where Jonas is?” “No. But we’re looking for him.” “And if you find him?” Butch stared at the Aviator. “Then we’re going to kill him.” The Aviator nodded. “I want to see the body.” Butch nodded. “If you find him first, I want him.” The Aviator thought for a minute. “Okay, but he may not be in perfect shape.” “Ask me if I give a shit.” “But if we have to kill him?” Butch smiled again. “Then I want to see the body.” The Aviator nodded. “I think we have an

understanding.” Butch nodded. “I believe we do.” The Aviator nodded, and the three men turned, walking back to his line. We’d watched for a moment before we did the same. “Tense,” Gregor muttered as we walked back. “Yeah, but I knew Gibbons would fucking listen. Jonas, the cocksucker, tried to play us both. I knew he wouldn’t like it any more than we fucking did.” “So now we find Jonas?” Butch nodded. “We find him, and we fuck him over good. We find out who else is in this little club of his, and we pass the work on to the Aviators. Then we track the motherfuckers down, and we gut them like the pussies they are. What we don’t get, the fucking Aviators will. We’re going to make it hurt, brothers. They’re going to be begging us to kill them.”

I felt my stomach roll over. Killing assholes that needed it was one thing, but torture? I knew that by making it messy, that sent a message to anyone else that might think about fucking with us. I’d heard stories, but that wasn’t something I’d seen since I’d been with the club. I kept my thoughts to myself, but the idea of torture didn’t set well with me. I knew we had a couple of brothers that were handy with a knife and could probably keep a man alive for days as they cut them. We mounted up and got out of there. We were in neutral territory, but that didn’t mean we trusted the Aviators. Butch may have averted a war, but they were still assholes and might take a shot at us if they thought they could. We arrived back at the clubhouse and Butch filled in the rest of the club on what was going down. I listened as he whipped the rest of the brothers into a froth of vengeance. A month ago I would have been just like them, but now the blood lust wasn’t

there. I’d gladly kill Jonas for what he did, not only for the club but also for Leah. He’d sent her back to her bad place, and I’d stick a knife in his back for that reason alone. But I no longer relished the thought of spilling enemy blood. I cheered and roared along with the rest of my brothers, but it was all an act. All I wanted to do now was get back to my apartment and check on Leah. As the booze began to flow, I plotted my escape. “Butch, I have to go,” I said. “Go? Go where?” “Home. In case you forgot, Jonas beat the shit out of me. I’m going to go home and get some rest and take something.” “What you need is a drink!” he said, shoving a beer into my hand.

I sat the beer back on the bar. “What I need is to go home and get some sleep.” “What a fucking pussy. Fine. Be ready to ride tomorrow. You’re on point to find these fucking Demon Hands.” I didn’t bother to correct him. He probably didn’t know what an Incubus was anyway. “What? Suddenly I’m your guy again?” “Hey, you fucking came through in the end. No wonder you had a hard time finding out who the dead fucker was. That shit is all water under the bridge now. Tomorrow, I want you out there tracking down that fucking Jonas. If you want to finish fucking him over, be my guest. Just don’t kill him. We need the names of the rest of the pussies that are riding with him.” Butch said it like he was doing me a favor. I nodded. “I’ll find him,” I said. And I would. Then I was going to turn him over to the Chasers because

he had to answer for what he did, and after that, I was going to do some serious thinking about my life and what I wanted from it. I left the club, the door shutting behind me muffling the sounds of partying. I stuck the key in the ignition of my bike and pressed the starter. The bike growled to life. I toed it into gear then rumbled out of the parking lot. As I rode home, I started thinking about my life. The club kicking me in the ass, and the fact they went behind my back, still left a bad taste in my mouth. Never mind Butch saying it was all water under the bridge. For him maybe, but not for me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be part of the Venom Chasers anymore, but I did know I wanted to be part of Leah’s life. Somehow, she’d managed to burrow under my skin and into my heart. I didn’t love her, not really, but there was something about her that drew me to her. Maybe it was the innocence in how she looked and acted. Maybe it was the fact that she could fuck like a demon while

still looking like an angel. Maybe it was the fact for the first time I felt like I was important to someone. Maybe it was all of the above. Did I love her? I examined my feelings as I rode. No, I didn’t, I decided. But I wanted to. I wanted the chance to fall in love with her. But the Venom Chasers was a jealous bitch. She didn’t like to share. She wanted your all, leaving you nothing for anyone else. Some old ladies could live with that. I didn’t think Leah could. It was only a matter of time that I was going to have to make a choice. Was it going to be the Chasers—the jealous bitch that took everything and gave nothing back—or was it going to be Leah —the one that gave everything to me and asked for nothing of me other than to be there for her? I shook my head as I leaned the bike over, banking it into the parking lot of my apartment complex. As I putt-putted through the complex, the choice seemed simple. I only had to find out if Leah and I

had anything, and then find a way out. I had nothing to offer her except the fact I would be there to protect her and pick her up when she fell. But I could find something. I had a way with people. I could sell snow cones in Alaska if I set my mind to it and I knew bikes. Maybe I could go to work in a Harley Dealership somewhere. I could make it work. I could make it work for her. I pulled to a stop behind her Ford. The more I thought about it, the easier the decision was to make. I bounded up the stairs and opened the door. “Leah?” I called. I smiled as I glanced around. It looked like she’d cleaned the place up a little. She didn’t answer so I moved further into the apartment, shutting the door behind me. I quietly entered the bedroom, expecting to see her sleeping in the bed. She’d been doing that a lot lately, but she wasn’t there. Then I noticed the lamp, suitcase, and phone on the floor with her clothes strewn around.

“Leah?” I called, my blood running cold as I banged into the separate bath, but she wasn’t there either. I charged out of the bedroom, panic rising in me. It was obvious there had been a struggle. The Chasers hadn’t taken her, there was no reason for them too now, and the Aviators didn’t know about her and wouldn’t have come into our territory anyway. That left only one other person. Jonas.

Chapter Thirty-five As Pax stepped out of the apartment, I immediately felt the loss of his presence. I wanted him to stay with me, but he’d promised he would return. I wandered around his apartment for a moment, trying to wrap my head around what he was saying. I realized how stupid I must have sounded when I was talking about death following me around. It made perfect sense in my head, but playing back my conversation with Pax, I realized I probably sounded like a raving loon. I hadn’t meant death, as a literal person, only that death seemed to follow me no matter where I went. First at home in Indiana, and now here in Coquille. Having the man on the motorcycle at my house had scared me. I was afraid I was next, and I didn’t know why. But listening to Pax explain it to me, it made a little more sense. If someone had pitched the body out at sea, it made sense it would eventually turn up somewhere on the beach. The North Pacific Current tended to deposit items lost at sea on the

Oregon coast. It was one of the reasons the OIMB was located where it was. The current was too broad to say it landed smack on OIMB, but I knew from my studies that the current was a factor. In the 1990s thousands of shoes were washed ashore all along the Oregon coast from a container that was lost at sea. There was still a running joke at OIMB how each person there got several fresh, if waterlogged, pairs of Nike shoes. I’d always known deep down inside that the body didn’t actually have anything to do with me, but having Pax lay it out so clearly gave my logical, scientific mind, something to latch onto. I wandered around, my emotional and logical side warring it out in my head. I gripped my hair, squeezing my temples between my fists as I clenched my eyes shut. To take my mind off my troubles, I began to tidy Pax’s place. It was a dump, and I could write my name in the dust on some surfaces. I hoped he didn’t mind, but I had to be busy, I had to try to

ignore the two sides of me as they battered each other mercilessly. I started by picking up all the detritus and stuffing it into a garbage sack, then loaded and started the dishwasher. As that ran, I made his bed and hung the clothes that I could tell were clean. Those that were obviously dirty, or suspect, went into piles to be washed… lights, darks, and whites. I was afraid that doing his laundry was a bit too forward, so I started dusting, using a dirty hand towel from the laundry pile. His place was small, and I was making good progress when someone knocked on the door. I froze, unsure of what to do, then peeked between the blinds. The man knocked again, harder this time. “Open up Pax. I know you’re home.” I stepped back from the window, chewing on my bottom lip. The blinds were closed, so there was no way that anyone could tell I was there. If I

remained quiet, they would leave. The man rapped on the door again then I heard the scratching, like a key being slid into the lock. My blood ran cold, then I watched in horror as the deadbolt turned. I rushed to the door to relock it, but I was too slow. As the door opened, I stopped and turned, running to the bedroom. The man saw me and slammed the door as he chased after me. I shut the bedroom door, but there was no lock. I put my shoulder against the door and held the handle, whimpering in fear. “So, who do we have here?” a voice said on the other side of the door. “Come out, come out, where ever you are.” I felt the knob try to turn, but I held it firm. I looked around, frantically looking for anything that I could use to block the door. I saw my phone lying on the bedside table, and I cursed myself for not putting it back in my pocket after I checked the time while sorting laundry. I thought about making a dash for it and trying to call 9-1-1, but I knew I’d never make

it before the man was in the room. I felt the knob try to turn again and I gripped it with both hands. “I like a girl with some spirit,” the voice said as the knob began to turn again. “No! Help!” I shouted as loud as I could, hoping someone would hear. “Someone help me! Call the police!” The man chuckled. “Sorry, bitch. Nobody home to help you.” The knob began to turn again, and I could feel the door flex and move as he pushed against it. I whimpered, straining with my entire being to hold the knob, but I wasn’t strong enough. “No!” I whimpered as it slowly turned in my hand. “No!” I screamed as the door opened a bit, but I managed to shut it again as I dug in. The man rammed his shoulder into the door, and I

stumbled back, then turned and tried to make it to the bathroom. He caught my hand as I tried to pass, his hold on my arm twisting me around and dragging me to a stop. “No! Let me go!” I screamed as I tugged furiously at my hand, trying to break his hold, but his grip was like iron. I grabbed my suitcase from the bed and swung it at his head, my clothes flying everywhere as the lid flew open. The case hit him on the shoulder, making him grunt as he tried to deflect it. His grip slipped a bit and leaned into my pull. I fell to my knees as I slipped from his grasp. I was scrambling to my feet when he tackled me, driving me toward the bed. I kicked hard with my feet, screaming as I tried to get away. I was keeping him off of me as he tried to battle is way past my flailing feet. I connected solidly with one kick, and he reared back and fell. I threw myself on the bed, rolling to my feet on the opposite side of him. I grabbed my phone and tried to run, intending to get out of the apartment, but he

scrambled after me, driving into me again and taking me to the floor. I threw my phone at him, and it bounced off his head before he could wrap me up and pin me to the floor. I strained with every muscle in my body, but in moments he had me pinned, and I shrieked in pain as he twisted my arm behind my back. “You’re a feisty one,” the man sneered into my ear. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you in.” “Pax is going to kill you!” I raged, and the man jerked me to my feet, using my arm to lever me up as I screamed in agony again. “I’m counting on him to try,” the man panted in my ear. “I was going to surprise him here, but this is much better. Now he can come to us.” “Who are you?” I demanded, trying to wrench myself free, then gasped as my struggle put searing pressure on my shoulder.

“Nobody you need to know about.” “What are you going to do to me?” “I’m going to take you to see an old friend of Pax’s.” “Who?” I was proud of myself. I was about to piss myself in fear, but you couldn’t hear it in my voice. “Doesn’t matter. Now, we’re going to go out the door nice and easy. You try to run, or scream, I’ll break your fucking arm, then your fucking neck. Clear?” I nodded, and he began marching me forward. I frantically tried to think of a way to warn Pax, but before I could come up with anything, we were out of the apartment. I gasped as he put more pressure on my arm. “Don’t you fucking yell,” he warned beside me, his arm behind my back like he was steering me along,

but in actuality, torquing my arm up behind my back. We went slowly down the steps; each one was agony, as he couldn’t keep constant pressure on my arm. When we reached the bottom step, he turned me and forced me into the back of a nearby van. He shoved me in, then crawled in behind. I tried to scramble out of the back of the van, but I couldn’t figure out how to open the rear doors before he grabbed me by my hair. I cried out in pain as he dragged me back away from the doors. I struggled, but I wasn’t able to prevent him from wrapping my wrists in duct tape. Once he had done that, he had no trouble doing my ankles, then to add insult to injury, taped my wrists and ankles together before slapping a final piece over my lips. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said before giving me a cold smile. He stepped up to the driver’s position and started the van. As he drove, I strained with every bit of strength I could muster, but I couldn’t tear the tape to literally save my life. I’d used duct

tape before, and I couldn’t understand how anything so easy to tear off the roll could be so hard to break. It didn’t help that with my hand and feet taped together; he had me bouncing around in the back of the van like a BB in a tin can, and I banged my head painfully several times. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of misery, the van rocked to a stop. The man glanced at me as I sat up again after he’d knocked me over with his careless driving. “Wait here,” he said then snickered. I called him several names, none of them complimentary, but with the tape over my mouth, they all sounded like muffled gibberish even to my own ears. “Same to ya.” He laughed as he slammed the door. After a few moments of silence, I managed to scoot myself across the floor to the side door. I was still

on my back, trying to work the door lever with my feet, when the door unlatched and slip open. “Who is she?” a big man with a swollen and bruised face asked as I screamed and tried to scramble back away from the door. The man that had kidnapped me grabbed me before I could get very far. It’s hard to move when you don’t have use of your legs or arms. “Don’t know, but she was in his place, so I figure she’s important. The way I see it, it’s easier this way. Now he’ll come to us.” The second man nodded. “Good thinking. Get her in the clubhouse.” The first man produced a nasty looking knife that he opened in some complicated flipping motion that terrified me. I was afraid he was going to cut me, but he used it to slit the tape around my ankles. He again flipped the knife in a complicated pattern

then dropped it in his pocket and tore the tape from my ankles. I sat, refusing to move in both fear and defiance until he thinned his lips, reached in and pulled me out by the arm. I stood as he slid me across the van floor because it was clear he would drag me right out onto the ground if I hadn’t. He slammed the door and then marched me across the small parking lot into a decrepit looking building that had probably been a gas station once. Inside, the building was a wreck with worn furniture, water stained walls and ceilings, and a lingering smell of mildew. The man threw me toward the couch, and I stumbled before catching myself and managing to sit down. There were about ten men clustered around, and they all looked at me like a lion eyes its prey. The man with the ruined face stepped up to me and ripped the tape from my lips. It hurt like hell, but I said nothing, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt me as I tried not to cry.

“What’s your name?” When I didn’t answer, my eyes welling with tears, he grabbed my face roughly. “I’m going to ask you one more time, and if you don’t answer, you’re not going to like what we do to you.” He looked me over slowly then smiled. “Though from the way you look, I suspect we will. Now, what’s your name?” I began to cry silently, the tears leaking from the corner of my eyes and streaming down my face. “Leah. Leah Tennyson.” “Interesting. I’ve been looking for you. You know Pax?” I nodded but said nothing; afraid that if I said the wrong thing, then they would have their way with me. The man smiled. “Okay, Leah Tennyson, here’s what you’re going to do.” He pulled a phone from his pocket and dialed.

Chapter Thirty-six “This cum dumpster is a shitload more trouble than she’s worth,” Butch said. “How the fuck are you supposed to find her, and why should I care?” “You want Jonas? He’s got her. We find Leah, we find Jonas,” I replied. As soon as I’d realized Leah was missing, and what must have happened to her, I’d returned to the clubhouse to plead my case for having the Chasers help me rescue her. “But you don’t know that Jonas fucking has her.” “Who else would it be?” I snarled. “You said you didn’t take her, the Aviators probably didn’t, so that leaves Jonas. Someone was at her house. That was also probably Jonas, trying to clean up his tracks.” “Why?” “How the fuck should I know?” I raged. “Maybe he wanted to get even. Maybe’s he’s just a crazy

motherfucker! But you want Jonas? I’m giving you a way to find him.” Butch looked at me for a moment. “More likely he wants to draw us into a trap and ass fuck us good.” “Maybe.” I agreed. “But this is your best chance at finding him.” Butch was staring at me, clearly thinking it over when my phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket. “Pax.” “Pax, brother, how are you?” I put the phone on speaker. “Jonas, you motherfucker. What have you done to Leah?” “Nothing yet. She’s right here, scared but unhurt.” “What do you want?” “What do I want?” Jonas asked. “The same thing

I’ve always wanted. You and the fucking Chasers out of my town.” “It’s not your fucking town,” I said, playing to Butch. “It never was and never will be.” “We’ll see about that. Are you alone?” “Yeah.” “If you want your piece of ass back, I have a little task for you. You do that, you two can walk away without a hair on her head being harmed. You try to fuck me, and I’ll cut her tits off. Got me?” I looked at Butch. “What do you want?” “It’s simple, really. I want you to kill Butch and Gregor, and lure as many of the Chasers into a trap as you can.” “How am I supposed to do that?”

“You’re the one with the golden tongue. You’ll figure it out.” I looked at Butch. “Let me speak to Leah.” “Pax?” Leah said, her voice quivering. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m okay. I—” she sobbed then was gone. “That’s enough. See, I told you she wasn’t hurt. How long she stays like that is up to you.” I was beginning to sweat, trying to figure out what to do and keep Jonas on the phone. So long as he was talking, he wouldn’t hurt Leah. “Okay, okay! Give me a minute. Let me think.” I stalled, my mind turning over idea after idea. “Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll tell Butch that you offered me a position in your club and that I’m going to meet you. We’ll meet at…” I paused,

trying to build the plan as I spoke. “We’ll meet at the motel where I found you. They’ll think I’m setting you up, but I’ll really be setting them up. You can have your men waiting in the trees, and when I go inside to meet with you, they can take them out.” Butch glared at me in silence, but I shook my head, urging him to stay that way. “But that leaves Butch and Gregor.” “Goddammit! If I just walk up and shoot them, the club will kill me, and you won’t get what you want! Do you want Butch and Gregor or do you want the club? I can’t do both!” There was another pause. “When?” “How fast can you get ready? If I’m going to do this, I have to move fast.” I wanted him to be scrambling to get set.

“Two hours.” “We’ll be there in two and a half then.” “If you fuck me, Pax, she’s dead, and it won’t be quick.” “If you touch her, I’ll kill you myself.” “Just make it happen. And Pax… when you get there, shoot Butch and Gregor. Otherwise, I’ll know it’s a trap, and she dies,” Jonas said then was gone. “What the fuck are you doing?” Butch roared. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m setting him up!” “You’re setting us up to walk into a trap!” “That’s what he thinks. He doesn’t have to know how many brothers come with me. Get half out

there now. Get them in the trees. The other half rides with me. We’re the bait. Before they hit us, we hit them. We take them from behind before they even know what hit them.” Butch continued to glare at me. “I still don’t fucking like it. How do I know I can trust you?” “My ass is on the line as much as yours. You don’t like my plan then you come up with one. You said to find Jonas. I found him, and I’m delivering him, and his entire fucking club, to you on a silver platter. You know where they’re going to be, when, and what they’re going to try to do. If you think you can do better, fine, tell me your plan.” “Fuck! Gregor. Get half the brothers and ride out to the Sleepy Eye. Get your asses in the trees and get low and wait for our signal.” “Not Gregor. Jonas is expecting him.” “How the fuck are you going to pull this off?

You’re damn sure not shooting me.” Blanks would be the obvious answer, but it wasn’t like you could walk down to the nearest gun store and buy blank ammunition. “You’re going to have to trust me. I’ll miss. You two fall down like I’ve shot you. That has to be his go signal. It will be ours. When the brothers hear the shots, they take out Jonas’ men.” Butch stared at me. “It’s too risky.” He must really be scared since he didn’t throw in a fuck or a shit. “It’s the only way! You want him, here he is. Otherwise, we’re going to have to find them and take them out one at a time. What makes a bigger impact? We pick them off one or two at a time, or we wipe them out all at once?” I knew Butch liked statements, and this would be a big one. Depending on how many men we killed, it might even make the national news. Butch continued to glare at me. “Fuck! Randy, take

half the brothers and get out there. Now. Ditch the bikes somewhere so they won’t be seen. When Jonas’ men show up, I want you already in position to take them. If you can take them quiet, do it as soon as they settle.” “No! Wait for the signal. They have to be able to answer Jonas if he talks to them. If all his men go dark, he’ll know we’ve set him up.” “I don’t give a fuck.” “He’ll rabbit, Butch. You know he will. He doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. Do you want him or not?” “Goddamn, cock sucking, frog fucker! I hate this fucking shit!” I waited as Butch stared at the floor, thinking. “Fuck. Wait for the motherfucking signal. Go! Fuck!” “Okay, here’s the plan,” I began as the plan came together.

We spent an hour working out all the details; making changes to give us the biggest advantage and to minimize the risk. There was no way around it, it was dangerous as hell, but it was the only way. I didn’t want my brothers killed, especially not by that fucking Jonas, but I was in it to get Leah out, no matter the cost. We rode into the parking lot of the Sleepy Eye Motel, sixteen strong, Butch and Gregor leading the way. The parking lot was empty, and I knew before we even dismounted we were in the kill zone. I scanned the trees, but there was no sign of Jonas’ men. I walked up until I was between but slightly behind Butch and Gregor. This was the moment. If they couldn’t sell this, Leah was going to die, and I probably was too. I quickly pulled my borrowed weapon, since the police still had mine, and fired two quick shots behind their heads. They dropped straight down an instant before the woods opened up, the roar of

large caliber handguns splitting the quiet. A few brothers got off a couple of shots, but they were quickly mowed down as I ran for the safety of the motel. I slammed my back against the building, my pistol at high ready. I had no idea which room Jonas was in. After a moment, a door, six down, opened and Jonas stepped out. I pointed my pistol at him, but he was holding his own weapon to Leah’s head. “I’ve done what you wanted. Now let her go!” “Drop your gun,” Jonas replied. “No.” Leah’s eyes went wide. I was taking the biggest gamble of my life. “I’ll kill her.” “You’ll be dead a second after.” Jonas shrugged, but the gun never moved. “She

must be important to you if you’re willing to kill everyone in the club for her. No, I think you’ll do as I say.” I licked my lips. A stalemate. I needed something, anything, to distract him. I had barely completed the thought when there was a scream from the woods and another round of gunshots. Jonas glanced away from me, his eyes going instinctively toward the sound. The Chasers all leaped from the ground and charged into the woods. Jonas obviously had another card up his sleeve. Leah twisted violently away, and I squeezed the trigger as I ran. Running, with an unfamiliar gun, I missed, the bullet impacting the block wall well away from his head, but it was enough to make him jerk back. Leah was fighting like a wildcat, screaming and clawing for escape. Jonas shot in my general direction, but due to trying to control Leah his shot was wild and nowhere close. He dragged her back into the room just as I

arrived. I barged through the door as he shoved her away and tried to bring his weapon around as I blew through the door, trying to get in close before he had a chance to hurt Leah. The report from his weapon was deafening in the room, and I heard Leah scream in terror. I never slowed and plowed into Jonas, intent on killing this bastard with my bare hands. We tumbled over the bed and onto the floor. I could hear more gunshots outside, but my only concern was Jonas. We each still had our pistols, and we struggled to twist them around to point at our opponent while using our free hand to prevent them from doing the same. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” I said, all my aches and pains from our previous fight forgotten. This was it, the fight to the death, and we both knew it. His gun roared again, and I felt the heat next to my head, and Leah screamed again, her voice muffled by the ringing in my ears. Why didn’t she fucking

run? Jonas dropped his own gun and put his now freed hand on my own weapon and began to twist it toward my face, grunting in effort as I strained to prevent it. I pulled the trigger, hoping for a lucky hit, but got nothing but another scream from Leah and a roar of pain from Jonas as the muzzle flash burned his hand. Gun jammed, I let him twist the useless weapon away from my hand as I grabbed his head and tried to twist it off. Breaking a man’s neck isn’t as easy as it looks in the movies, but we tried, grunting and straining, our muscles bunched and bulging as our hands clawed at each other’s face. Kicking and clawing, Jonas rolled me over, his face twisting in a mask of hate and pain as I pushed desperately at his face. The pain had to be incredible, as previous wounds that had only begun to heal were torn open again. I slowly twisted his face to the side, my desperation giving me strength,

until I rolled him off of me. I scrambled away, trying to get some room, but he was immediately after me. Leah was standing in a corner, both her hands over her mouth as she stared at us with wide eyes. “Run!” I roared, but before she could react, Jonas was on me again. I was slammed back into the tall chest of drawers, the legs collapsing on the far side causing it to fall to its side as we rode it down. The impact felt like it snapped my spine and I screamed in agony. I clawed at Jonas, desperate to gain some room to recover, pulling at his shirt as I tried to drag him off of me. We fell off the chest as I hauled him by his shirt, the impact on the floor hurting far more than it should. I threw myself off and scrambled away, my movements slowed by my pain. He could sense victory within his grasp, and he launched himself at me. I was still getting to my feet when he shoved me back, hard. Off balance, I stumbled back two

steps, catching myself on the doorjamb as he charged after me. He drove a crushing right into my jaw that snapped my head back and caused my vision to dim. I knew if I passed out he’d kill me, and Leah too. I stumbled back again, trying to clear my head. He threw another hard right that I tried to duck. I took the blow to the forehead, snapping my head back again but doing little additional damage. I staggered back another step as he closed. He’d driven me into the tiny bathroom that was barely big enough to hold the sink, toilet and tub. This is where we would finish it. With no room to maneuver I had to get in close. I stopped backing and threw my own wild roundhouse. He saw it coming and tried to dodge, but the room was so small he couldn’t get out of range and only managed to slam the door. The blow connected solidly; rocking his head back and I lunged in, trying to press my advantage. He was stunned but not out of it, and he met my charge with one of his own. We clawed at each other, shredding our shirts and flesh as we engaged in a deadly dance.

Grunting and shoving, our hands locked around each other’s head, I drove him back. He connected with the sink and tore it from the wall. Water began to spray in a fan from the broken plumbing, the floor instantly becoming slick. He shoved at me, using the wall as a brace, and we went down in a tangle, tearing the shower curtain down as we crashed into tub. We spun and writhed in the tub, its confines keeping us close and preventing a quick or easy escape. We snarled at each other as we fought for advantage, the curtain wrapping around us. I had him on his back in the bottom of the tub, blood dripping from my face into his as we gripped each other’s throats. We’d stopped struggling; putting the last of our strength into this one final contest. I tried to tell him to die, wanting to snarl my rage and pain, but I couldn’t make a sound, as Jonas’ hands were as tight around my throat as mine were around his. I leaned in harder, bearing my teeth as his arms bulged, his face turned redder and redder,

and his lips twisted into a defiant snarl. My vision was beginning to go and my head, face and chest felt like they were going to explode, but I hung on, my blood roaring in my ears. Suddenly I could breathe again, and I sucked in a great lungful of air as Jonas’ grip continued to weaken. I redoubled my efforts, leaning in even harder now that he wasn’t trying to tear my head off. His arms fell away, but I kept my hands around his throat, trying to crush his windpipe under my hands. “Die you motherfucker,” I said, my voice soft and weak from the damage done to my throat, and still I kept the pressure on, the veins on my arms sticking out as I put everything I had left into that killing grip. I finally let go with a gasp—exhausted and hurt. I rose up on my knees and drove a right into his throat with the last of my strength. I didn’t know if it was enough to crush his trachea, but I didn’t have

the strength for another shot. I slowly clambered out of the tub, leaving what I hoped was Jonas’ dead body behind. I looked at myself in the mirror as I slowly opened the door. I looked like something out of a horror movie—cut, bleeding and smeared with blood, my shirt hanging off me like a rag. I staggered out of the bath, my breaths coming in bellow-like pants. I’d expected to see the door open and Leah gone, but she was in the same corner, her hands still over his mouth and pale as a ghost. She stared at me before running to me and throwing herself into my arms. Thank God the bed was behind me because I was too tired and weak to catch and hold her, and I don’t think I could have taken another fall to the floor.

Chapter Thirty-seven “Are you ready?” I asked softly. Leah stretched and groaned then sighed as she settled back into my side. “Just five more minutes.” “You said five more minutes three times already. We need to get moving.” “Just five more, I promise,” she murmured as she snuggled in again. I grinned. In the last two weeks, that had been her standard line when I woke her up in the morning. “Five more minutes.” Normally that’s all she got because when I started kissing my way down her body, she lost interest in sleep and became interested in something else. But I couldn’t do that this morning. We had things to do, and we couldn’t spend all morning fucking our brains out like we’d been doing. Today was moving day. Again.

It had been two weeks since the showdown at the Sleepy Eye Motel. While at the time, it had felt like an eternity, from the time we stepped off the bikes until Leah was lying on me on the bed, covering me in feather light kisses, was less than ten minutes. Jonas had put most of his men in the woods, and my brothers had taken them out. But Jonas wasn’t stupid and had held a few back in reserve. We’d sold the idea that it was the Hands that had been doing the shooting instead of the Chasers. We’d played it to the hilt, and it had taken the Hands a moment to figure out the gunfire they’d thought had been cutting down Chasers had actually been the Chasers cutting down the Hands ambush. We hadn’t known how many Hands there were, and we’d thought we’d gotten them all, but a few Chasers had been ambushed in return. That had turned into a total clusterfuck in the woods as the

Chasers tried to run down the few remaining Hands without killing their own brothers. A few brothers had been shot at, but luckily nobody had been hit by friendly fire. By the time the Chasers had mopped up the rest of the Hands, Leah had gotten over her shock, and we had slid the chest from in front of the door. We were stepping out of the room as the Chasers began to emerge from the woods. I slowly escorted Leah to my bike, my aches and pains making it slow going, as Butch looked me over. I gave him a nod but kept going, wanting to get Leah away from there before something else happened or the police showed up. The Chasers were expert in cleaning up messes like this, and I was going to leave them to it. I’d just started my bike, Leah sitting behind me, when I saw Butch enter the room where Jonas had held Leah hostage. I was almost on the road with I heard the muffled report of a pistol shot. I didn’t know if Jonas was dead before Butch shot him or

not, but I didn’t care. For the next two weeks, Leah and I were inseparable. She’d spent a couple of days nursing me back to health in her house. We talked, a lot, about her ordeal. Knowing that Jonas, the man that had put it all into motion, was dead seemed to help her more than anything. I told her he was alive when I came out of the bathroom, but it didn’t matter if he was or not. She seemed to need to hear it, so I gave her that. On the third day, she’d returned to OIMB. She’d been fired, and they weren’t interested in hiring her back. She was dejected at having lost her job, but not as much as I thought she would be. We’d made love that night, and for the first time, I felt like neither of us was using the other. We gave ourselves, and it was the best sex I’d had in my life. As we drifted into sleep, she’d snuggled into my chest, and it had felt like the most natural thing in

the world. I returned to my apartment only once to collect my clothes. We talked about our future, and over the next two weeks, we made plans. She told me about her idea to move to Minnesota or Arizona, and after looking at our options, we’d finally settled on Biloxi, Mississippi because it was close to the water for Leah, a total change from Coquille, and the Harley Davidson dealership there was looking for a salesman. I’d talked to them on the phone, and while they hadn’t hired me, they were very interested in talking to me in person. As soon as I was able, I put Leah on the back of my bike, and we’d made the 2,600-mile ride. It took us four days, and they were, without question, the best four days of my life. We rode during the day, stopping when and where we wanted, and fucked ourselves to nirvana at night. When we arrived in Biloxi, I cleaned myself up, cut my hair, and walked in there wearing a sport

coat and attitude. Two hours later I was the latest member of the team, and I was scheduled to start in two weeks. I made up my mind as I strutted out of the dealership, I was going to fucking own that place by the time I was forty. We spent two more days in Biloxi, looking at apartments and finally found one we could afford in D’Iberville. As we’d looked for a place to live, Leah had applied for jobs at several places. She hadn’t landed anything, but two places had called her, and so she was excited about the prospects of either one. We’d returned to Coquille and set about the task of moving. Where Leah had mostly nice stuff, I had shit. The only thing from my apartment I kept was my television. The cheap furniture I sat on the curb, with a sign that said it was free, and listed my washer and dryer on Craigslist. In less than fortyeight hours my apartment was empty, and I was sleeping in our bed in Leah’s house.

We’d spent last night in a motel, the rented moving truck parked outside. Coquille was the only home I knew, and it was tough leaving, but I was ready for a fresh start. I’d thought long and hard about the move, but the Venom Chasers would never be the same. I wanted to be more than a cog in a machine, and that’s all I’d ever be in the Chasers—that’s all any of us would ever be. I realized now there was so much more to life than I dreamed was possible. It was because of Leah. She’d shown me another way; a way of companionship and kindness, and yes, maybe even love. We were still feeling our way along, but what I was feeling for her was strong enough to make me make the leap of faith and leave behind everything I’d known for the chance to find something better with her. And I didn’t regret it even a little bit. The Chasers hadn’t been pleased that I turned in my colors, but even then it felt like it was because they would have to replace me as the snoop—the info guy and man who found out who was doing

what to who, and when—not because they actually wanted me to stay. So fuck ‘em. Once I’d made that decision, the rest became easy. We’d sold Leah’s piece of shit Honda, and with a little cash from me, she’d bought a two-year-old CRV that she found. We’d packed it full of clothes and breakables, put my bike in the back of the moving van along with the rest of her furniture, and put the Honda on a trailer. Today we headed south and then east, toward our new home and our new lives. I didn’t know if it would work out between us, but I was going to fight like hell for it, and harder than anything else in my life. She was digging herself out of her dark place, and I was there, helping her dig. She still had her moments—times when I could see the darkness cloud her eyes—but I’d learned that a warm hug and a gentle kiss could drive the darkness away.

I smiled because she smiled. I was smiling more and frowning less now than at any time in my life, and it was all because of the warm softness tucked into my side. “Your five minutes are up,” I said. She stretched again. “Fuck.” I snickered to myself. She was still the sweet innocent girl I’d met, but only when we were in public. Otherwise, when she was alone with me, she showed another side. An angel in public, a devil in bed, and goddamn, she made me pant for her. Her mixture of sugar and spice made it hard for me to walk because I was always nursing a hard-on. I kissed her. “Later. Tonight.” She smiled then stretched up for another kiss, her hand going to the back of my head to hold my lips to hers. “You promise?”

“I promise.” She looked at me as a small smile played across her lips before she pulled me into another kiss, her mouth opening and offering me a chance to explore. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it got to me every fucking time. I rolled her over onto her back as I took over the kiss, her hands traveling down my body, her nails scratching gently and leaving behind trails of pleasure. I kissed down her jaw to suckle her ear, and she moaned, her nails biting into my back. I smiled. We couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, and I could feel her passion spooling up. So, I stopped. “That’s enough,” I teased, rolling out of bed. I was sporting a raging boner, but that wasn’t unusual, and she’d seen it plenty of times.

She groaned, her hands traveling up her body. “Please?” “Nope. Get up. We have to hit the road. We only have four days to make 2,600 miles, and that’s going to be harder to do in the truck than on the bike.” That would put us in Biloxi on Friday. While I didn’t start until the following Monday, if we didn’t turn the truck in on Sunday, we were going to get charged an extra day, plus we needed time to unload and get settled. Leah could unpack while I was at work, but we had to get the furniture and boxes into the apartment, so we’d have a place to sleep. “Speaking of harder,” she purred as she rolled over on the bed and reached for me. I wanted her so bad I let her touch me, but when she moved to take me into her mouth, I backed away. If she did that, it’d be an hour or more

before we hit the road. “Later. Get up.” She grumbled good-naturedly as she got out of bed. She padded into the bathroom, and I watched her ass swing as she moved. After a moment, I heard the shower start. From the suitcase that contained our traveling clothes, I threw out some clothes for her to wear, adding a pile of my own. I then gathered up our sweat stained and dirty clothes we’d worn yesterday as we loaded the truck and stuffed them into a plastic bag. I made sure everything was in a neat pile so we wouldn’t forget anything, and then went into the bathroom. As I shaved and brushed my teeth, I watched her moving behind the translucent shower door. I couldn’t see much, but I could see enough. I finished brushing and rinsed my mouth out, then watched the reflection of her figure in the shower. “Fuck it,” I said, annoyed that I was letting her

lead me around by my cock again. I opened the shower door and stepped in. “What are you doing?” she asked, but the smile on her lips told me she knew exactly what I was doing, and why. “We’re just going to have to be late leaving.” “Sounds like a plan to me,” she replied as she took my lips. THE END

LASHED

Chapter One Darcy didn’t think she could win the race now. She pedaled harder, if that were possible. It seemed like everything was going in slow motion as she burned through her reserve energy supplies, fighting to keep up with her number one rival: Aubrey. That’s right: she was in second place and the crushing realization that she just might lose this important race was making it hard to stay focused on what really mattered. It had been too many grueling hours of practice, too much sacrifice of time, money, sweat, and even tears. This race was just one of the last and most important tests on the way to making it big as a professional cyclist. Now it was going to be totally lost because of a few seconds, and a different that was almost nothing between the two women. There was no way it could end this way! “Come on, Darcy, come on,” she mouthed to herself alongside steady breathing. The words

almost hurt and it was difficult to say them without risking interruption of her breathing. But they needed to be said – out loud, as well; that was important, because just thinking them wasn't enough. Everything, absolutely everything, was perfect up until that last moment. She had done it all right this time. Darcy had started out in the lead, along with the prime contenders. Then, she had done something that wowed her just as much as it probably did many people in the crowd: she'd actually gotten out in front, and found it wasn't much of a race at all. Her heart was soaring and it was an effort to keep the silly grin off her face as she maintained the lead for the duration of the race. Suddenly, just a few minutes from that finishing line, Aubrey had gotten out from second place and gone just a little ahead of Darcy. Aubrey…It was difficult to be mad at another cyclist who showed such skill and sheer determination in everything she did. Still, though, it

wasn’t fair! Just a bike’s length in front of her was the confident and athletic object of both Darcy’s friendship and competitive nature. If there was just one person she would have wanted to beat her, it was the lovely Aubrey. That didn't mean Darcy was about to just lay down and let her snatch victory right at the last minute. A good friend was one who made you earn your wins. In that regard, Darcy and Aubrey were best friends. In every other way, they were best friends, too. Darcy's concentration broke apart for just a few seconds, thinking about all of these things. It was hard trying to stay focused when her body was being pushed to its absolute limits. Things often crept in, when it would be much easier to strive for that finish line with an emptier mind. Meditation helped, but it didn't do too much when things really became stressful in the heat of an important race. Yeah, they were all important, but there were only so many more until the big qualifying race, and then things would either go up, or way back down.

Then, without any warning signs, Aubrey couldn’t maintain her speed. It was like watching one of those bad movies where the hero was about to do something incredibly stupid, which would allow the baddies to take over and get their way, at least until the happy ending took hold. What the hell was she doing?! She slowed just slightly, enough for Darcy to easily get in front of her without speeding herself up. It was almost embarrassing to watch; no, scratch that, it was terribly embarrassing to watch. Darcy went by Aubrey and wanted to ask what the hell she was thinking. She wanted to know why her friend was just slowing down for no particular reason. It was almost like she was letting Darcy get in front of her, but that would never happen, no way. To do such a thing would not only be screwing herself over, but it would be totally disrespectful to the race, the other cyclists, and most importantly to Darcy. Still, she went over the finish line first, and Darcy

had won the big race! The thoughts of Aubrey's suspicious slowing down went away very quickly as soon as the large crowd of cycling enthusiasts started to cheer for Darcy as the winner. She would have to get to the bottom of this…maybe. But first, there was a lot of excitement to come; one of the best parts of winning was that everyone made you feel like number one. She was ecstatic, loving the crowd’s applause and smiling with each person who cheered her name. The winner’s ceremony was brief, but she felt like the most important person in the world right then. Once the peak of excitement had settled down, doubt crept into her head. It should not have been so easy for her to win like that. “What happened?” she said to Aubrey. “Did you hurt yourself?” But the second place rider, a small framed woman with a pretty face, just shook her head and

congratulated her with a fake smile. That was unusual, to say the least. Yeah, they had a friendship based around some strong, healthy competition. But they were always happy for one another after a big win, no matter who had lost out that time. It was just a part of competition. “Hey, what's the matter, Aubrey? Are you okay? I can't believe you didn't win. It feels almost like I didn't deserve it.” She patted her friend on the back. They were both drained, physically and mentally. If Aubrey didn't much feel like talking, it was totally understandable, but it seemed like something was definitely off this time. “I just, I don't know what happened. I shouldn't have tried to get in front of you.” “You're joking, right?” Darcy laughed but didn't manage to hide her concern very well. “You can never lose by trying. It's not like you fell behind from pushing yourself.”

“You don't understand.” Aubrey snapped her mouth shut and pursed her lips, then looked around with wide, shifting eyes. “It's just my ankle was starting to give me trouble, like I messed up during warm up. Stupid mistake, yeah,” she said, with her own fake laugh this time. “Like we're back in high school all over again, right?” “If you say so. I guess I'm just sorry you had to come in second for such a minor thing. Better luck next time.” She gave Aubrey a big hug, their body warmth combining and adding to the combined sweat. “You stink as usual.” “Thanks, Darcy. You stink, too.” They both genuinely laughed, but only a little. It was a relief to break that tension up and get back to a celebratory state of mine. “I guess we'd better get ready to talk to these reporters.” Various crews from newspapers, radio stations,

and even television networks were waiting. Journalists always looked way too slick and dressed up for sporting events, even the ones who were dedicated sports journalists. If not, they were wearing lame corporate sports tops and had their hair done to look faux-messy. And one of them was coming toward her already. Sometimes Darcy wished the people involved with her sport weren't all so clean and fake. “Darcy, Darcy! Can we please have a word with our lovely winner?” called out one of the news reporters. He had a camera guy behind him, lugging along a bunch of flashy equipment. “Sure,” she said. “Could I just get a minute to catch my breath?” She wasn’t on TV all that much, and didn’t like the idea of being shown out of breath, with sweaty strands of hair stuck to her forehead that had come loose from her ponytail. She slicked it back quickly with a hot, damp palm, and checked herself out in a service van that was parked near the winner’s line. “Do I look okay?” she said to the

camera guy, as though he were some impartial party who was honor bound to tell the truth. The guy nodded emphatically behind the lens, making the camera wobble back and forth with his motion. “You look gorgeous as always, even after such a trying race,” said the newsman with his perfect hair, perfect suit, and even perfect teeth. It was easy for him to say, nice and cool without having done anything but ride to the finish line in a van. “Did you expect to win this one? We noted that you were feeling a little flustered in second place for much of the race,” said the man. “Are you filming?” asked Darcy. The news man nodded. “I ah, yes, I was waiting until the end to use up those last reserves of speed. And as you can see, it paid off.” “Do you think there was anything odd about the

way Aubrey suddenly lost it at the end? Perhaps you noticed a lapse in her focus, sensed something the cameras wouldn’t have picked up. We know you two are longtime friends, so is there anything you can tell us about her mood?” “I really couldn’t tell you anything was wrong. She deserved to win it, I know that much.” “There have been rumors that she —” “Are you here to talk about gossip, or did you want to interview me about the race I just won?” “Darcy, we just want to make sure we cover all the angles. So nothing odd has been going on lately?” “We both trained hard, but I just managed to push it that little extra in the end. These things happen, and I’m one-hundred-percent proud of this victory… even if you don’t seem to interested in it.” Darcy puffed, working hard to look as cool and collected as possible. And she was feeling pretty damn cool

after telling off the snarky interviewer right in front of his camera. The only problem was, she had been wondering just the same thing about the strange circumstances of her winning during the last seconds. There was something going on, but she planned to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible. After the interview was over, the newsman was off to find Aubrey for more answers, and probably to get his camera guy to film some of the hotties walking around in the sunshine. There was a lot of skin on display out in the sun, like it was a car race or something. The topless guys who had their abs all oiled up for whatever reason were particularly distracting while Darcy hurried about trying to figure out where her friend was. Darcy shook the hands of a lot of fans, and signed some autographs, too. “You’re so hot,” said a hulking guy who looked like he lifted weights professionally. Beside him

was a leaner but still very athletic looking man, who was nodding his head in agreement with his friend. “How do you manage to keep yourself looking so fine with all the training you have to do?” asked the leaner guy. His hair was golden and it shimmered in the sun, matched by his white smile. Darcy blushed and bit her bottom lip without thinking. “I just take care of myself, like I’m sure you both must. The rest takes care of itself if you stay focused on maintaining yourself.” “I couldn’t agree more. Thanks for the autographs!” said the hunky hulk, and they both walked off into the crowd, smiling and greeting every sexy girl they went by. Even though they were clearly on the prowl for every woman in the area, it felt damn good to be given such a compliment about her appearance. What mattered much more to Darcy was her racing

prowess, however. She had a sinking feeling about the race, too, like something was definitely up. If Aubrey wasn’t feeling well, or she was in a bad state of mind and that had distracted her — she might be alone and in need of a friend. Worse still, maybe she was hurt somehow and needed medical assistance. It was Darcy’s duty as a friend to find her and make sure she was alright. Even if there was nothing going on, maybe if she could find Aubrey and do a little sneaky interrogation, that might help Darcy put her mind at ease. The problem was that after a good half hour searching, she still had no idea where her opponent had gone to. “Did you talk to Aubrey?” she asked the newsman who had first talked to her, the next time she saw him walking around. Nodding, he said, “We just caught her but she said

she needed to meet with family for something urgent. Can’t tell you where she went, sorry. The interview looked great, by the way. You’re always stunning. Let me know if you want to meet up and talk about anything.” He handed her a business card and winked at her. The confidence boosters just kept rolling in! Too bad her focus was dedicated to locating her friend. “Damn it. Thanks!” she said and rushed off again. The more she thought about it, there was no way she should have been able to overtake another professional cyclist like that. Doubt was creeping in more and more. Darcy knew Aubrey had a history of mental illness. She’d never said so, as such, but often alluded to the fact. The way she acted sometimes, that was a sure giveaway. They were best friends and close rivals, so they knew way too much about each other’s lives. Then, she spotted her in the distance, behind a bunch of parked vehicles from the set up crew… talking to a man in a biker jacket. It looked just like

a suspicious deal gangsters might make in an abandoned parking lot or warehouse; not the kind of thing that the sweet, motivated Aubrey would get caught up doing. Also, who exactly was this biker? Surely she wasn’t dating him?! Was that just concern Darcy suddenly felt as she watched them talking to each other in a very familiar way? Could it have been some jealously, as well? It might have been, because it was not just any man, but an absolute stunner. The guy was far too good looking to be wearing such a worn and beaten jacket. He was covered in various tattoos, as well, but didn’t have any piercings or an outrageous hair style. From the neck, up, this man looked just like any other attractive, pleasant citizen. From the neck, down, he was rough and ripped beyond belief. It made her wet just getting a look at his body beneath a humble, black t-shirt and that jacket. She almost bumped into a young couple who were walking along, distracted by each other’s eyes.

“Excuse me,” the young man said. “I guess I got lost in your eyes, sweetheart,” he then said to his pretty young partner. “Oh, he’s such a romantic,” the woman said to Darcy, who faked a smile and was actually dryretching on the inside. She didn’t have time for their cutesy love talk. Her attention was still on that hottie biker. She looked back over and locked eyes on Aubrey and him again. If only she could find a guy who was that rugged and hot, but not caught up in all of the bullshit that usually came along with that sort of man. These clean-cut athletic types were sexy and built, but they were just so nice and vanilla. Darcy had the craving for something more exciting, so much she could almost taste it on the tip of her tongue. She became embarrassed when the man spotted her and caught her looking at him. The guy smiled like a happy wolf, imperfect teeth that were somehow

in just the right places. He had some scars on his face, too, and that was just too damn hot. The biker continued smiling for a time, and then he winked at her as well. He yelled at her from across a crowd of people, “Congratulations, babe!” Darcy immediately worried about how haggard she must have looked after all that riding. Yeah, she’d gotten compliments, but even the most attractive of women still looked average after they’d been working so hard in a race. And this guy probably thought she was totally straight-edge, a sports nerd basically. There was no way he would ever take her seriously, right? “Hello, winner,” came a voice from behind her. Turning she, greeted her coach. Steve was about a decade older than Darcy, but he had plenty of experience and knowledge about how to be a winner in the cycling game. He put his muscular hand, hairy as it was on the back of her hand and drew in toward him in an affectionate display. That was rare for him, the stoic man who had seen real

combat during his time in the military, and did not like to appear weak or share his emotions openly. “I'm proud of you, girl, you did great.” “Hey, Steve! Thank you.” She blushed a little, due to the huge amount of respect she had for him. Steve was a legendary coach in his own right, even though he'd never actually made it big himself. Still, as the old saying went: teachers creates all other professions. “I can't believe it was so close. I'd really like to talk to Aubrey and find out what was going on with her.” “I know what you mean. That did look a little unusual. She still having problems of her own off the race course?” “Shh, we're not meant to know anything about that. Besides, it was all just assumptions on my part. We've never actually spoken about it together.” “You could go and talk to her, but maybe you should wait until she's finished with…ah, whoever

that dirt bag is.” “How do you know he's a dirt bag, Steve? Don't be so judgmental of people.” “He's a pretty boy, sure, but look at that jacket he's wearing. You know what that logo is, don't you? It's The Wild Cards motorcycle club. They are not the sort of people you want to be getting involved with. If you care about your friend, I'd encourage her to cut him off immediately. I wouldn't want to have to break anyone's neck looking out for you or your friend, Darcy.” He smiled and squinted over at the biker, as though he was enjoying the idea. “I’ve never seen him in my life. Don't worry, I plan to tell her off as soon as she's alone.” “Good. Well then, give me a hug, winner! I’m so proud of you.”

Chapter Two Speed wasn’t much interested in watching these stupid push bikes racing. Why would he give a shit about something that needs to be pedaled like a toy when he could ride the real thing every day? Grown adults don't have to ride around on those lame things any more, and it made absolutely zero sense for people to get so excited about it. They'd even blocked off the road for the race, so honest people couldn't bring their vehicles up to where the crowd was. That pissed Speed off. He had had to leave his hog back in the allocated parking area for the people watching the race. That’d pissed him off, and he'd almost given the traffic cop a piece of his mind. But it wasn't worth getting into trouble for, not when that would have meant missing out on the easy money he'd be making today. It was certainly worth it. Besides, if someone messed with his bike, man, that person would wish they stayed at home, to say the least. Speed didn't like to think of himself as a violent

man, but there were just some things that you did not mess with: one of them was a biker's wheels; the other was a biker's woman. Speaking of women, he was getting a pretty nice semi-erection walking around looking at all of the athletic bitches on display. The cyclists were hot stuff, a few of them, but their fans were also in great shape. That kind of niche sporting event probably brought out lots of people who were amateur riders themselves. Speed told one or two of them he liked the way they looked. He might have asked one particularly juicy looking fan if she wanted to take a ride on his face. She'd smiled at him, but her boyfriend did not look too happy. Naturally, the guy didn't say shit to Speed – wouldn't even look him in the eyes. That was a very smart thing to do, because it was not a healthconscious decision to start mouthing off to the head of a motorcycle club. Speed wasn't there for fun though, certainly not. For that, he would have headed to a good, dirty bar

full of drugs and sluts. Taking in the sights was just for distraction, a way to pass the time until he could finalize things and get the fuck out of there. This was a business trip, and as soon as the race was over, he'd be able to let Aubrey know everything had gone through. All she needed to do was keep up her end of the bargain, and things would go smoothly. He didn’t want to start asking around for the cycling chick right away, figured he’d just hang back and try to enjoy the race. Watching the female cyclists do their thing was glorious. They were wearing skin-tight outfits, and they had to bend over on the seats while riding. That was a position he would have enjoyed to get them in. The women in this thing were very fit, strong thighs and the tightest of butts. There was one in particular with flowing blonde hair, until she’d tied it back in a frumpy ponytail at least. That young lady sure had a wiggle to her, especially when she was pumping those tasty legs of hers on the pedals of her little bike. It made her ass move in ways that should

have been criminal – largely because her ass wasn't right up in front of Speed, so he could put his dick inside her. The race was apparently a good one, judging by the way the fans all yelled and carried on like idiots. Speed barely had time to watch sports, but when he did, it was football or hockey. None of these fake sports for people who were afraid of getting hit doing something with full contact. He had to tell a few dickheads off for yelling right up near his ear, like they had no common courtesy. Some people just didn't have manners until they were knocked on their ass, and then they would beg and plead to be treated with the courtesy they so sorely lacked. Speed didn't give a fuck about who won, so long as the right person took a dive. After the race, he waited for the cheers and celebrations to die down. His girl had come in second, just like she was meant to. She was proving to be a very obedient one, but she was clearly unstable, judging by how clingy and eager

to please she was with him. They barely even knew each other, and hadn't even fucked or anything. Speed didn't like to fuck crazy, even when the woman was such a well-toned cutie. He waited for the places to be given out; that smoking hot blonde took first place, working her fine ass off to get there. Too bad she didn't actually win legitimately, but she would never know that. Something on her face told Speed she was suspicious, but no one was about to go blabbing to her. Speed noted when Aubrey had moved away from receiving her medal for coming in second. He waited for her to walk away quietly. It took some time, because she was busy talking to that sexy blonde cyclist. Instead of taunting her or rubbing it in, the blonde seemed to be worried about Aubrey. They were meant to be rivals, but it seemed like they might have actually been friendly, judging from the way they were acting. “Come on,” Speed muttered under his breath as he waited to meet

with Aubrey. He was getting tired of the noisy crowd of cycling nerds, and didn't give a shit about the hot women walking around anymore. It was time to get a cold beer and get his dick wet. Walking over to a quieter area, Speed approached Aubrey. “Hello there, sweetheart.” “Hi, Speed. Have you been here long?” “Since before the race started. Don't worry, I'm not going to miss out seeing my investment go through. That was a great performance by the way.” “Yeah, except I lost. At least it made Darcy happy. You can't let her know I threw the race, okay? It would really mess with her self-confidence.” Aubrey was leaning up against a truck, probably tired after the effort she'd put in, just to wind up coming in second. “Why, is she one of those emotional chicks who thinks everything should be about her? That'd be

right…” Speed spat on the ground without any shame. Some guys who were walking near them looked at him in disgust, but quickly looked away when they saw Speed's MC logo, tattoos, and the size of him. “What do you mean by that?” Aubrey was nervous, and that told Speed she had the hots for him. He was already pretty sure she did, because she'd been messaging him way more than necessary about this plan. “Why do you care? I thought you cycling types were meant to be really competitive and hate each other. Isn't that what sports are all about?” “We're not a football team. We've been friends since we were teenagers. She's my friend. We're just rivals, too, is all.” “If you're such good friends, maybe you can introduce us. I'd love to see what her pussy tastes like. Shit, she's so hot I wouldn't even make he take

a shower first.” “That's disgusting.” Aubrey grimaced but then she continued to look at Speed like a lost puppy. “And yet you still want to fuck me, right?” “No, I didn't say that. Why are you being such an asshole? I'd better get back out there. Some news teams still want to talk to me, even though I didn't win. I guess maybe some of them are wondering why I slowed down suddenly. Do you think they're going to find out? I swear I didn't say anything, and I won't.” “I know you won't,” Speed said sternly. He stared at her for a few seconds just to make sure she knew he was serious. “Don’t worry,” he added eventually, giving her a playful touch on the shoulder. “You’ll be back on top in no time. And your brother’s legs won’t need to be broken by that bastard lone shark’s guys.”

“Well, Darcy is acting suspicious, I just wanted you to know. What if she's onto us?” “Shit, what’s she going to do? Complain about coming in first place? She can suck my dick, and you know I'd love to let her. Even if she tells you she's got it all figured out, just keep denying it. There's no way she's going to find any proof; there isn't any as far as you are she are concerned.” Aubrey looked away from him. He was standing in front of her, and she clearly wanted to take that as a sign he was into her. He’d first contacted Aubrey a week earlier, after her brother had contacted The Wild Cards motorcycle club — Speed’s club. They'd worked out this deal, where he’d bet a shit load of cash on Darcy, and Aubrey would throw the race right before the finish line. “What’s the matter,” he asked. “You can’t dwell on losing. You didn’t really lose, you had that bitch, no problem. It might be a boring sport, but I was paying close attention to it.”

“I don’t think people are going to buy it. Did it seem obvious that I lost on purpose?” “This is my business, and I can tell you honestly, no one is going to figure out what happened. Unless you start talking, that is. Like we already talked about, you're not going to do that.” “Do you think you might like to come out for a drink to celebrate? I'm so relieved that my brother's going to get out of his debts now. If they had of hurt him, I don't know what I would have done. He's the closest family member I've got.” “Hey, that's great. I'm glad I could help. I'd better bet getting back to my bike, though. Those dickheads made me leave it parked out in the sun, half a mile away from this stupid crowd,” Speed said. He'd heard her offer but was hoping he could just ignore it and she wouldn't have the guts to ask again. That was better than having to upset to fragile thing by directly refusing her.

“Speed, did you want to come back to my place? I know you think I'm pretty. I saw you looking at me when I was stretching before the race.” She cupped her tits and pushed them together. They weren't particularly big, but damn were they supple and perky. “You could do whatever you want to me. Tell me you don't have a few things in mind that you'd like to do. You'd be lying.” “Shit, that's a tempting offer, Aubrey. Yeah, there are some very fun things I'd enjoy doing with you. Tight, toned ass like that? I could pick you up and do any position they've ever thought of with you. Damn it…but I can't.” “That's bullshit. You'd fuck anything with a wet hole, I know you would. What's wrong with me? I'm not good enough? I'm too good?” She was starting to cry a little bit, but the overt anger that was taking her over was great at pushing those tears back. Her face contorted like another personality was suddenly in control. It was

actually worrying to watch, if not at slightly scary. “You have a dark side to you, don't you? I just don't want you fucking around, messing up your head trying to lock down what you can't have. I'm not the kind to stat; it looks like you are looking for someone who'll be there for you after the bodily fluids are all wiped away. I'm trying to be a nice guy about this, can't you see that?” Why did he feel like he was almost groveling to make her happy? He barely knew Aubrey. Yeah, she was a sweet kid and all. Speed could tell that something was wrong with her head, too. That made him want to look out for her, protect her from himself, as clichéd as that sounded. “I’d love to…best to not mix business and pleasure, sorry sweetheart.” Her features faded back to a state of normalcy, albeit one that was steeped in melancholy now. The excited Aubrey who was pumped up to race and to talk to him was gone. She looked away and faked a smile, her lips thin and pretty. “So, just to double check, you made the bet on Darcy, and you

won the money we need?” “Fuck yes I did. Don’t worry, your brother’s debts are being cleared by one of my boys as we speak. He’s in the clear. You did a good thing, sweetheart.” He pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. “Why don’t you take a little cut for yourself? It’s not fair that you have to do all the work and not get anything for yourself.” “Don't try to buy me off because you feel bad. You don't want to fuck me, that's fine. I can get it wherever I want. Keep your money, please, Speed.” That sad look on her face was too much, even for a dirt bag like Speed. He had a soft spot for such a sweet looking girl. And this one clearly had some serious issues she was working through. That was the problem: he knew how damaged she might be. “You know I’d love to bang you up, down, and sideways. It’s just not a good idea right now.

There's nothing wrong with you personally. We don't like to mix that kind of pleasure with our business, Aubrey. I've got a club to look out for. What kind of a message would that send to my boys, if I just fucked every hottie we dealt with? We don't stick our dicks where we shit.” He chuckled a little on the inside at that potent imagery. “That's disturbing. I understand, though, even if it is shit. Maybe after this is all in the past, then. Can I call you sometime?” That sad glimmer of hope that might have made a more empathetic man crack. Speed thought of the numerous texts, IMs, and requests to video chat. They hadn't met up again since he first approached her while she was getting a smoothie after a training session, alone. He'd been drunk when Aubrey wanted to video chat, and she'd been wearing skimpy little shorts and a see through top when he answered. That was fun to look at, and he liked to keep tabs on people who he was bringing in on business schemes. He didn't anticipate that she'd end up being bat shit crazy.

That's what she was, as far as Speed was concerned. “Hey, what are you thinking about?” she said. That was such a tired line, it felt like they were married or something. Speed hadn’t even fucked her and he knew he needed to run away quickly, before she started showing up at his place, or even worse, at the club headquarters. If the guys in his club got a look at her, they'd have her naked and addicted to meth in no time, when all she really wanted was a good fix of Speed. Best to give her a bit of false hope and then ditch her right away. “You might get lucky some time. Never know. I’d better head off. It'd be best if you just didn't call me for a few weeks, okay.” He turned to find the quickest way to his bike, and that’s when he saw the hottie who he’d helped win the race. Her name was Darcy, he remembered. She was something else, that was for sure. Her ass was tight, but stuck out just enough to give a man something to really

hammer on. It made his dick twitch just to look at her for a second, and that always told him one thing: Speed was going to fuck that cyclist. Hell, maybe he’d even let her crazy friend, Aubrey, watch or join in. He was in the mood for some fun after all, having just made a nice pile of cash for his club. He yelled out to Darcy and congratulated her. She just stared at him with her mouth a little open. The dopey chick even bumped into a couple, the same couple Speed had had his altercation with before. Darcy looked back over at him as soon as she had apologized to the couple for not looking what she was doing. Yeah, it was pretty clear she thought he was sexy. Speed didn't blame her, though. He even winked charismatically, hoping to make sure she’d remember him the next time they met. There had to be a next time; you didn’t let a piece of ass that tasty looking get away. She saw him and just looked confused, then noticed he’d been talking to Aubrey, and shot Speed a sharp look.

That bitch might be on to us, he thought. Oh well, let her come looking for answers. I’ll show her by bedroom instead.

Chapter Three After finishing up with the rest of the interviewers, people from local newspapers, bloggers, and a few more from various TV channels, Darcy and Aubrey were taken to the designated cyclist station. There was a little kitchen, fridge, place to sit and relax, a toilet that was closed to the public, and a block of showers. There was no one else in there, since Aubrey and Darcy had taken longer to get away from the crowd. That was one of the things about coming in the top three places: everyone wanted to talk to you. It was a welcome burden, but made sure that the two women were extremely tired by the time they finally got to relax. They sat on the sofa for a time, just sipping on some juice and eating crunchy oat bars that had been supplied by one of the event sponsors. “These things are pretty good,” said Darcy. “Yeah, I thought you'd like them. I read about the

new even sponsor last week online, so I bought some of the snacks. I think I might be addicted.” “I can't believe these things are actually nutritious. They taste way too good. Technology really is improving, hey.” “I know. I wish they'd sponsor me,” said Aubrey. That was a sore topic for both of them, the old problem of looking for a sponsor. “Or one of us deserves it.” “You'd be totally set, then. Don't worry; we'll get sponsored soon enough.” “In time for the Tour de France? That doesn't look too likely, especially for me…coming in second place.” The bitter look told Darcy plenty. The only problem was, she couldn't figure out exactly what. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” asked Darcy, leaning forward on the sofa and looking at

her friend, studying her face to reveal a hint of some clue about what was going on in her head. “Can I be honest with you, Aubrey?” “If you must.” “I must. I think there's something fishy going on, and that guy who was talking to you, the one in the biker jacket, he had something to do with it. I'm right, aren't I? You've never been upset like this, not when I was the one to come in first instead of you. You're not like that.” Darcy's smile was contagious and Aubrey's sour look was soon gone. “You're right about something smelling fish, but it's not the biker guy. You should hit the showers, dear. “Oh, you bitch! Fine. How about I buy you an early dinner after that?” It felt good to wash up and get back to feeling normal. Darcy experienced shivers as the hot water poured down over her naked body. It was

like another kind of orgasm, or the feeling you got after having great sex, even hours after. That's what it was like racing, competing, pushing herself to her physical and mental limits and riding on the rush of adrenaline that came along with it. Darcy wasn’t eager because she had to get clean. That sweat was earned, and it didn't bother her in itself. Yeah, she always liked to get back to feeling and smelling like a lady, even though riding was her favorite thing in the world, besides sex maybe. Darcy had not gotten any recently. The last guy to fuck her had been another rider, who was competing from interstate. His name was Terrance…something. She didn't remember his last name, mostly because he'd done so poorly in the race. They had sex before riding, which was lucky for him. Darcy wasn't looking to do it with a loser. That was too bad, because sex after a big race was amazing. Her body was already worked up, and all of her senses were buzzing. Even just the water of the shower was making her feel like she could cum without too much effort. If Aubrey wasn't in the

shower next to her, with just a low divider between them, Darcy would have rubbed one out before drying off. Too bad. Darcy would have to wait until she got home to satisfy her growing need for sex…with her vibrating boyfriend who lived in a dresser drawer. “That’s so much better,” she said to Aubrey as they drove off together. Their gear was in the vans of their respective coaches. At their level, they didn’t have to worry about anything but training and racing. There was some awkward silence, and Darcy wondered if she should say anything more about the race. “So, where should we go for dinner? Can we get pizza? All this fucking training, and I think we both deserve to splurge, don’t you? I promise not to tell Marlene if you don’t tell Steve.” Marlene was Aubrey’s coach, an energetic forty-something woman who was built like a tank. “Are you joking? Marlene would find out, and I’d never hear the end of it. She'd probably tell on you,

too, and Steve would chew you out later.” “Okay, fine,” said Darcy. “You're not that much fun sometimes, you know that.” “As long as I keep my perfect figure, I don't need to be a lot of fun.” Aubrey put her nose up in the air, pretending to be a stuck up snob. The impression was comical and made Darcy grin. “Please, like you could ever be anything but gorgeous. Any guy in the world would trip over their own grandmother just to get a shot at taking you on a date.” “Yeah? Well, not every guy, but thanks. I think some of them prefer blondes.” “What?” asked Darcy, but she didn't get a chance to continue that line of inquiry, because the waitress came to ask what they had decided to eat. They didn’t get pizza, both ordering chicken and whole pasta meals, hold the creamy topping, and

big salads on the side. Darcy had simply copied Aubrey's order, instead of trying to work out what a nutritionally complete meal for herself would be. She didn't have the concentration to worry about that right now, not with her pent up sexual frustration and the thought of that sexy biker guy still in the back of her mind. “So…I have to thank you,” said Darcy with mischief in her mind. “You know I couldn’t have won without you.” She laughed. Aubrey laughed, too, more than she normally would have at such a lame joke. That pretending might have been a sign she was hiding something, or that she was genuinely bitter about losing. “Shut up,” Aubrey said, sounding playful. “Like you’ve never messed up big like that.” “Hey, if I didn't give you a hard time about this, what kind of best friend would I be? It's just friendly rivalry, right? It just so happens I kicked your ass this time.”

“If that's what you want to call it, I'll bite. But don't forget that in the many years we’ve been friends, I have seen you do some seriously dumb things. And we're talking du-umb.” “Is that so?” Darcy sipped at her water. She'd ordered a Diet Coke, despite how incredibly unhealthy they were. At least it wouldn't eat into her calorie allotment for the day. That was very handy, indeed, because she had worked up a serious appetite. In addition to being hungry, however, that appetite was for something more than food. She put that thought out of her mind, and focused on the other burning desire that was on her mind: finding out more about the race. “And the same goes for you. Like, throwing a race would be very dumb. Aubrey, look at me. I know you slowed down on purpose. You’ve never let me win unless I earned it before. What’s the fucking deal?”

But her friend just took another mouthful of food and chewed it quietly. She wouldn’t make eye contact either. “I’m not going to give up on this, Aubrey. You’re going to tell me what’s going on.” “No, just leave it, please. Trust me. I would never lose on purpose, and it's getting pretty insulting that you think I would.” She raised her voice just a touch, but it was not convincing as far as Darcy was concerned. “Trust you? I will, if you just tell me the truth. How long have we been friends? Did someone make you lose on purpose? You're not fooling me with the indignant act. If you had really tried to win and I accused you of something like this, I know you'd be biting my head off instead of playing it cool and quiet. You can't hide this sort of thing from me, I'm afraid.” “No, now just stop it!” That was more of an

appropriate reaction, but it came too late and hence looked fake. Aubrey stood up. “I have to pee. Unless you'd like me to answer your questions about that? Do you believe I need to use the bathroom, or am I sneaking off to throw another race?” She stormed off across the dining room and headed into the women's bathroom. Darcy stirred her food around, suddenly not feeling as hungry as she'd been. This was a completely ridiculous situation. The great thing about competing against each other was that one of them often came in first place. That was a double chance of having something to celebrate, even though the other had lost. Damn it, this was meant to be a fun and happy outing. “Didn't even want to cheat and get pizza with me…” Darcy mumbled to herself. No one was sitting close to them, so she didn't feel silly for doing so. Looking around at the other people there, many of whom were actually smiling and enjoying their meal, Darcy saw a bulky shape coming in

through the shiny glass door. It took a moment before she could make out who it was, but there was something very familiar about that shape and those colors. Then, a familiar man walked through the door of the restaurant. It was the biker! Darcy felt herself go all tingly, then embarrassment set in. Whatever he was doing there, it probably had something to do with Aubrey. This guy looked like a tough customer, and Darcy was just an athlete trying to make it big. She didn't want him to come over to their table, especially not while her friend wasn't even back from the bathroom yet. Of course he walked right over to her, the second he caught sight of Darcy. He beamed a big, charismatic smile at her, too, bobbing his head up like he'd just spotted someone he'd planned to meet there. Damn it, go away, she kept thinking to herself the whole time he made his way over to her. He walked with a casual swagger, like someone who had a purpose and was not worried

about missing out on anything. “Hello there, sweetheart,” he said as he approached her. “Me?” said Darcy. “I'm not your sweetheart, buddie.” He raised an eyebrow and didn't stop smiling. “Oh? Well, then, I'm not your buddie, darling. But we could always change that if you like. Nice race today. You were looking fucking good, if I might say so.” “You already did say so, so I guess there's not much I can do about it…thanks, though.” She hoped she wasn't blushing. The guy took a seat like he'd been invited or something; might have been, for all Darcy knew about what Aubrey had been doing lately. “Tell me how you know my friend,” she said the second that thought popped into her mind, all shyness quickly fading in the face of her purpose. “I don't know what you've been up to, but I don't

like it.” “Your name's Darcy, isn't that right? Pleased to meet you.” He leaned over and put his hand out, but Darcy didn't take it. “My name's Speed, and yes I'm a friend of Aubrey. I know her, brother.” Seeing that she was not going to shake his hand, he shrugged and brought it back down onto the table, on top of his other hand. “So that's how you guys met. You're not dating or something, are you?” “No, we're not. I'm single, by the way.” He winked at her. It would have been creepy if so many other men had done the exact same thing, but for some reason Speed had some special quality that made every movement charming. That was an impressive feat for a man who looked so intimidating and even dangerous. Aubrey was coming back toward the table now, so Darcy decided to act quickly. “I need to get to the

bottom of this, without upsetting my friend. If you're up to something that is going to hurt her, or you've made her throw the race just so you can make some money on her loss, I'll — “ “Speed!” said Aubrey from a dozen feet away. She sounded excited to see the guy and hurried over to the table. “What are you doing here?” “I actually just came to see how you two were doing after the race. I am a cycle fan, after all. Motorcycle, push cycle, they're not really that different, are they?” “We don’t' call them ‘push’ cycles. And is Speed really your name? Don't you have a real name, or is that kept secret so you can go around —” “Darcy, what's gotten into you? Leave the guy alone, will you?” Aubrey sat down next to Speed, looking at him like she wanted to start jerking him off right there. It was obvious he'd gotten into her head in some way, maybe even into her pants.”

“So, are you two seeing each other or something? Tell me what's going on right now or I'm going to get mad.” “You're not going to lose it in the restaurant, are you?” She knew Darcy had a temper when she really wanted something. That was exactly what Darcy was going to use in her own favor. “Not if you give me some information.” She stood up and put her hands on her hips. Speed looked like a grinning hyena who'd come to eat some roadkill. He was enjoying this, that much was sure. “Why do you think I had anything to do with whatever you're talking about?” he said. “Oh, of course you have something to do with all this. Tell me what the hell you’ve been doing to my friend or I’m calling the cops now!” Telling the guy off was harder than she’d thought it would be. Not

because he was a biker, or because he was built like a strong horse. No, it was tough to yell at a man who was just so good-looking. Especially when he just kept smiling at her without any shame or worry. “I actually wanted to talk to you, Darcy.” “What?” said Aubrey, deflated sounded. “Why? I thought maybe you'd come to take me up on that offer for a drink.” Her whole body slinked against her seat, away from him. Seeing how upset her friend was, and feeling bad about putting extra pressure on her, Darcy sat back down and tried to calm herself. It was probably a good idea to lower her voice before they were asked to leave anyway. “You’re not making any sense. I don’t know who you are, apart from a scumbag obviously. What have you been saying to Aubrey to make her…” she whispered the next part, “to make her lose to me on purpose.”

Flipping through the menu casually, he said to her, “I’ll tell you what, sugar tits. You come for a ride with me, you can ask anything you like.” “Yeah, right.” Darcy sat back and eyed her food. “You know we were trying to eat. Aubrey, why did you ask this jerk to meet us here? What, is he extorting you or something? Maybe just here to rob the place?” Speed leaned against his chair and actually had the balls to put his feet up on the table, right where they were eating. “I know you girls need to keep your energy levels high. Asses like that don’t just fall out of the sky. On my face, though? That would be welcome. Please, don’t let me stop you.” Darcy kept telling herself to throw her drink, glass and all, right at this prick’s face. She wanted to, thought she might have, too, if he weren’t so gorgeous. He obviously knew it, too, acting without the slightest hint of modesty. “I am not going anywhere with you.”

Steve’s face suddenly appeared at the door. “Shit, I’m glad we didn’t order the pizza now,” said Aubrey. She sounded sad and lost, like she’d just lost the race all over again. “What the hell are you doing hanging out with this thug?” Steve said, walking right up to their table. He was slightly taller than Speed, but had quite a few years on the guy and definitely wasn't in the same physical condition. Not many guys were as fit looking as him, though. In a fight, there was no doubt Steve couldn’t keep up any more. In his day, however, he’d been in the military, and had done his share of fighting. The guy owned enough legal firearms to take down a small army, from what he had said. Speed stood up, took Darcy by the hand, and pushed Steve to the side. It looked like the older guy was about to pop him right in the face, so Darcy said, “It’s fine, please just calm down.”

Speed shook his head and headed to the door without her. “Come outside when you're done talking to your wannabe father,” he said to Darcy before leaving them. “All right, I've had enough of this shit. I’m not your parent, and you’re a free woman. Just remember you have today off, and we’re back to training tomorrow. You want to make the Tour de France, don’t you?” He crossed his arms to accentuate that point. The way he tilted his head back and to the side made him seem especially judgmental, but that was what he was going for. “Don't worry, Steve. We just have some business to take care of.” “You're not going to start riding one of those two wheeled death traps are you?” “I haven't decided yet, Steve.” She looked over at

the ripped biker making his way out into the front parking lot. “Maybe I'll just take one for a test ride and see what I think. It might be nice to have a distraction, you know, like a hobby?” “I hope you are talking about the bike.” Darcy nodded as she walked away, leaving Aubrey and Steve to make small talk about the race.

Chapter Four “What the hell am I doing?” Darcy asked as they walked through the exit. “I can’t just leave my best friend, and Steve probably wants to kill you. You know he’s killed people, right? He was in the Army when he was younger.” Speed didn't think Darcy actually believed all of the stories she heard. Yeah, there was a chance it was true, but he didn't much give a shit who had been in the military or not. Steve didn't scare him, and no one fucking did. Speed looked back at the large windowed front of the restaurant to see if the old bastard was, in fact, following them out. No, but he was standing by the entrance, watching them carefully. Aubrey was beside him, with a ‘what the fuck’ look on her face. Poor chick wanted his dick bad. He wondered briefly if the older guy had ever fucked Aubrey. Nah, it seemed like he had some sort of weird thing for Darcy, though. Maybe that was just how

every man acted around her. She was incredibly attractive, so Speed could hardly blame the old guy for being weird in her presence, whether or not that actually meant anything. They finished making their way through the partially-filled parking lot, outside the restaurant. Speed took her to his bike and climbed on, gripping the handlebars and getting a rush just from pressing down on them in his fingers. “Now you get to go for a ride on a real bike, sugar. Don’t you want to know what it feels like to have something with power between those lovely legs of yours?” “That what he told her? I bet that was impressive. Did it make her all moist and wanting for you?” Speed laughed and squeezed her hand tighter as he continued to lead her out into the parking lot. Darcy went to pull away from him, against his firm grip, and he didn't try to keep her following. There was no need, because she did not break away, must have had a change of heart. “You can go back

inside if you like,” Speed told her. “I'm not trying to force you into doing anything you don't want to do. I don't need to.” “I've already made myself look like a dumbass in front of two people I respect a lot. Why should I go back inside and put up with their crap, without actually finding out what I need to know? You're going to tell me what I want, Speed.” “You don't look like a dumbass. What you look like is an adult woman who is free to do whatever the hell she likes. Why talk about yourself like that?” “Whatever. Are we going to talk or not?” “Are you going to come for a ride with me? You have to actually get on the bike before we can take off. Otherwise I'd just be going for a ride by myself, and you'd ben standing in the parking lot watching me take off. You can see how this might be a problem, right?”

“Damn it, I'm not going to get anything useful out of you. This is all just some stupid game. Do we have a deal or not? I go with you. You tell me what I want to know about the race today, and anything that you've been doing with Aubrey. Deal?” “Okay, fine.” Speed even reached out and shook her hand. “That's a deal. Although, I have to say that it sounds like I could tell you anything, though, since you believe that an aging cycling coach is a badass killer.” “Steve’s never lied to me. I’d trust him more than you any day.” “Either way, now he’s an old man, and I’m not. Forget about him. Are you going to come for a right or not?” “No, I’m not. That thing looks like it’ll kill me. If I was going to go for a ride, why would I want a total stranger to take my life in their hands?”

“Hey, who would know how to ride better than the president of a motorcycle club? This is what I've been doing practically since I could walk.” “How many times have you gone flying off your bike? Any stays in hospital that I should know about? Have you ever had anyone die while riding with you? What are your credentials? Are you capable of riding like a sane person? Oh, and do you even have a license?” “Wow, wow, wow. Just calm down for a minute, okay? You think I'd want to crash and mess up my baby here? This thing means a lot more to me than anything else. More than any other person, for that matter. My bikes have always been there for me. So, you tell me if you think I'm going to wreck it just to impress some chick.” That got her attention, and it riled her up too, judging from the way Darcy tilted her hips and crossed her arms over her lovely tits.

“Yeah, okay, sure…you're really full of shit. But there's something about you that's compelling. And the idea of going for a ride does sound kind of exciting.” She was trying to cover up her eager look with an angry pout and it wasn't working; she seemed to know pretending she outright hated Speed was not going to be a viable tactic anymore. “I guess I have always wanted to give it a try. I've never had the time outside of training, and Steve is always telling me to stay away from motorcycles. He says they're too dangerous and I could injure myself and miss out on training, blah, blah, blah.” “Is that guy your coach or your fucking father? Shit, it sounds like you've got a lot of lost time to make up for. Lucky I came along when I did, then. Climb on,” Speed said. “Just wrap your legs around me and hold on tight. Nothing’s going to happen to you while I'm in control.” “Don’t you have a helmet at least?” She edged closer to the bike, looking like she wanted to turn and flee, but not being able to. Just like a rabbit in

the headlights of a big rig. “What are you afraid of? You’re not trying to live forever, are you?” “I was planning to live long enough to win an international race, maybe beyond by twenties at least. I don’t even know who the hell you are. Why do you think I’d just get on your bike and ride off with you without at least putting on a helmet?” “You followed me out here didn’t you? I’m not holding a gun to your head. I could, though, if that’s what turns you on.” He smiled at her again, that same wolf’s smile that she’d first seen earlier at the race circuit. “I’ll make you a bet.” “What now?” “If you don’t have a burning desire to kiss me within the next hour, I’ll tell you absolutely everything about me and Aubrey. How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds like an easy win, and I guess you know a few things about those already, if my suspicions are right.” She folded her arms over those perky tits she was hiding under a flowing dress. “So, what do you want if I lose? And there’s no way I’m going to lose, because I’m not a fucking moron. “If I can just make you even want to kiss me, without actually doing so, you have to go out with me tonight.” “You really do think a lot of yourself, don't you? Tell me something, were you this cool before you started insisting everyone you know call you 'Speed'? Did you get bullied a lot when you were a kid or something? Maybe you have some problems with women because you were a virgin until you bought your first big boy bike?” “Wow, it's like you really know me,” he replied. “Can I ask where you got your degree in bullshit

pop psychology from bad chick flicks?” Choosing to ignore that, and pretending she hadn't just spouted such a load of crap, Darcy said, “You want to go out on a date with me? Where would we go, a strip club? To bust some caps with your posse?” She had a real wild streak in her, one that was going to be plenty of fun to try and tame. Usually, Speed would already have her on her knees out back, or bent over his bike. There was something different to this Darcy chick, though. He was going to make sure he got to find out just what that thing was, and make the most of it. “Yes, I want to go on a date with you. I’ll wear a fucking tux and get a bunch of white horses to carry us through the park. No, we’re not going to do any of that stupid shit you’ve seen in movies. You’re smarter than that, I know you are.” “You think so? Then why the hell do you think I’d go for a ride with you, or go anywhere at all with you? Come to think of it, why would you even want

to take a smart girl on a date? Isn’t it easier to trick high school girls into sleeping with you?” Speed shook his head, starting to get pretty aroused at the way she kept taunting him with her smart mouth. “I don’t have to trick women into doing what I want, Darcy. Sure, I’ll fuck a high school girl if she’s legal. What honest man wouldn’t admit to that? But all the bitches I fuck come to me, all of them, two or three at a time. No trickery involved, sweetheart.” “You’re trying to trick me right now. Does that make me special?” That devilish smile was driving him crazy, and he got the feeling she knew it. Or maybe it was just that she was so confident that it made her naïve about how to real world worked. These athletes usually had their heads up in the clouds, too focused on being the best, living clean to smell the shit down where the rest of the world lived.

“You think you’re special, right? Isn’t that enough? Although, it’s cute you want my approval.” He wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing it, but that’s just why he’d been forced to use this stupid bet thing on her. Shit, he’d seen it in a movie a few years earlier. It hadn’t turned out too well for the couple in the end, but they sure got to do a lot of fucking. And he was feeling extra playful with this woman. Darcy had the potential to be a special type of woman. You're not going to let yourself go soft just because you have a thing for some bitch you only just met, his inner macho man was telling him. Speed knew better than to think he had a heart of stone. The kind of biker who didn't show any emotions or have any intelligence never got to be leaders. Those guys just knew how to take what they wanted and hurt people. But they didn't survive on their own; they needed the thinkers to tell them what to do for that. Speed was a tough guy, harder than fuck, but he also knew better than to let an opportunity slip away from him.

Darcy looked like she might be a great opportunity, in more ways than one. Now all he needed to do was convince her to take a ride with him, get her somewhere private away from these prying eyes — and hope his charm would be enough to keep her interested. “You've come this far, why not come a little farther? I don't bite unless you ask me to.” “That's what I'm afraid of,” she said. “That I'll bite?” “No…that I'll end up asking you to, in one way or another.”

Chapter Five “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” “Does it matter? Fun’s fun, okay?” Darcy turned to maybe go back inside, but she stopped, went to turn back again. Why was she acting like an indecisive teenager? “I’ll tell Aubrey I’m leaving.” She remembered Steve was also inside, and couldn’t bare the idea of having to face him before going. He would be so disappointed in her. She pulled her phone out of her slim handbag and fired off a quick text to Aubrey instead: Just going for a ride, talk to you later <3 She climbed on and put her arms around him. “Well, you’ve got me on your big bike. Show me why this is so much better than riding with your own two legs.”

She realized her breasts were pressing up against his solid back. As Speed started up the bike, the vibrations between the both of them made her nipples buzz gently with the movement. She moved herself back to stop the sensation, trying to avoid the utter manliness of Speed overtaking her. That was when she first considered there might actually be a chance she would lose their bet, which was absurd, and intriguingly frightening. He took her down the strip, people busily making their way here and there, all walks of different types. She wanted to ask where they were going, but couldn’t manage to make herself heard over the heavy rumbling of the powerful bike between her legs. Her dress didn’t cover much and several guys, and a few gals, openly checked her out. The wind felt great on her bare skin, though, and it was thrilling when Speed would rev his engine and accelerate vigorously. They pulled into the Wynn hotel, parking his bike in a reserved spot. This was when she should have

been calling herself a taxi, telling him she wasn’t that kind of girl, going back to her good friend to finish their meal. But Aubrey would have surely left the place already, probably with tears in her eyes about Speed not being interested in seeing her. Darcy had already figured out that Aubrey had a thing for Speed, but there was surely more to all of this. Yeah, that was why she was following this guy, had ridden with him to a hotel when the sun wasn't even quite down yet; that's what she kept telling herself. It was her mission, after all: find out what Speed had to do with Aubrey and the race. With so many thoughts racing through her head, Darcy chose to say, “What are we doing at a hotel?” It sounded naïve even to her, and he was probably thinking she was going to be some easy lay, ready to spread her legs just because he took her for a ride on a motorbike. “It's just somewhere private to talk. No obligations to take things further. Just wait here a minute. Don't

go anywhere.” He winked at her and walked over to the front desk, while Darcy stood in the entry way. He checked in at the front desk while Darcy hung back in the lobby area. She was a little embarrassed to be seen with a biker, and the staff seemed to know just who he was, and why he brought women to the up market hotel. It made her feel like a hooker or something. “This better not get out,” she whispered to him. “We both know what it looks like to any casual observer.” “Hey, these people are great about keeping things quiet. You think I would let them go blabbing about my business without consequences? Don't worry, it's totally safe. Besides, you're not here for any reason other than having a nice talk, right? Come on, let’s go,” he said with a keycard in his hand. “I always have a room ready, just in case.” They went down a hallway and came up to room number 69. It was not in sequence with the other numbers.

“Are there even this many rooms in the hotel?” Darcy asked. Speed shrugged as he used the keycard to gain entry to his hotel room. “I'm not sure, maybe…does it matter? I like to customize things to my liking, as you will find out. If you have something in your life that you would enjoy changing, why the fuck should you just put up with it?” “Whatever. I guess that's the kind of attitude a guy like you would have about the world. Some people have to make do with what they have, because they can't just go around demanding things from other people.” They went inside and Speed even held the door for her, closing it firmly once they were both inside the room. That latching sound from the door was like an omen, but Darcy couldn't tell what it was foretelling of her future. “Okay, so maybe I do take what I want, whether or not it already belongs to another person. I want

you, so by your logic, you'd better take your clothes off.” “Wait, what the fuck do you think this is? Do I have to scream?” “Calm down, calm down. Don't get your panties all in a bunch, woman. I don't need to force what I want when it comes to fucking. You'll find that out soon enough.” The confidence of this guy was almost maddening, but Darcy was getting hornier every time he said something like that. In turn, that, too, was maddening, like he had some kind of hidden superpower that she was not only weak to, but also one she couldn't see or detect in any way. Despite all that, Darcy was one stubborn woman. She knew there was no way this little meeting was going to lead to anything at all, apart from her getting the information she wanted, and Speed getting some very blue balls, if he were lucky.

“You bring a lot of women here, then?” “Shit, yeah. What, you think I’m a virgin? Look at me. We both know I'm a sexual god, right? Now, you wanna see how strong your willpower is, Darcy? Find out all about that race?” He walked in, taking her hand and leading her away from the door. The room wasn't huge, but it was obviously one of the nicest in the place. “I know it's not much, but this is a good hotel, and the staff is very eager to please their wealthier guests.” In the room, a nice one with double bed and a stocked minibar, Speed sat down. He invited her to follow him and as there was no sofa or comfortable chairs, she decided it was worth the risk just to be comfy. “I'm only sitting on the bed because I've had a big day with the race. I need to relax and let my muscles recover, okay? You're not going to get anything from me but questions, Speed. Do you understand that?” He nodded with a grin as Darcy sat down on the

big bed beside him. The sheets felt freshly changed and the mattress was soft but firm. Then, the bastard did something that threw her way off, but was not unwelcome, even though it was clearly all for show: he started to talk to her like a real human being. It was a sneaky move on his part, but one Darcy couldn't help but find genuine and endearing. “Tell me more about your racing career. I've never been to a race like that before. I would never have cared to, to be honest, but you probably already guessed that.” “You told me how stupid you think our racing is. If it doesn't have a big engine and make lots of noise, it must be totally lame, right?” “Hey, you said it yourself. But I want to know why you do it, what gives you the thrills in racing that you need to want to compete?” Speed leaned back, resting the weight of his upper torso on his arms that extended down onto the bed. It made the mattress move and draw Darcy toward him

slightly, on an angle. That was surely just an accident, but it seemed so perfectly timed that it might have been planned. Darcy shifted herself away, so she was not leaning in toward him. “When you're riding your 'hog' or whatever it is you call it in your circles, are you really doing anything but steering and looking pretty?” she said with a defiant smirk. “Okay, so you have to pedal. I get the same kind of thing from hitting the gym at our clubhouse. And then I get the thrill of pushing my bike as fast as it can go, out on the open road, faster than you could ever hope to get.” Darcy thought about that for a bit, trying to figure out the best way to one-up him. “I could use the same logic and say I get the same thing driving my car. Of course, that doesn't let me compete, push my body to its limit, know I'm the only thing that can get me from the start line, over that finish line in first place.”

“It's about competing, then, not just the act of riding itself? That’s good.” Speed was getting more thoughtful with his questions, like he actually gave a shit what she had to say. Either the dumb brute thing was an act, and he was letting her see another side of him, or this right there was the act. “Why’s that good? I can't figure you out, Speed, I have to admit. Before we came here, you were a stupid criminal to me and nothing more. Don't get me wrong, you haven't improved in my mind, not really. But what's with these bullshit questions? You don't care about this, do you? You must know how phony it all looks to me.” “Yeah, so? I'm not going to keep judging something as pointless, not without taking the time to hear what it's all about. I'm an outlaw, but I'm not a stupid sheep. That's the whole point of living under your own rules, instead of following the ones society gives you. There are plenty of idiots who want to be ‘gangsters’ and shit, just so they can act

tough and get into fights. Real MCs are about freedom and having your own goddamn brain, using it. So, am I allowed to ask what about cycling gets you off, or not?” “I'm not going to be telling you about anything getting me off, thanks.” “Well, tell me about making it big, then. Let's look at this from more of a business angle. What do you need to get to the next level in your career? I know you're not sponsored by anyone, or you would have had their logo on your ass and your bike or something.” “You're right, I need a sponsor. Failing that, I need to somehow get a shitload of money of my own. That's not going to happen anytime in the near future, so, yes, I need a sponsor to throw money at me. That way, I can compete with the biggest riders out there. I know I could be the very best, if I could push it to the next level.”

Speed stood up and walked slowly across the plush carpet. He seemed to be thinking about this a lot, and took each step with concentrated purpose. “So, you have everything you need to become the best? Takes a lot of money, and that's really all that's stopping you?” he asked, grabbing a handful of booze bottles from the little fridge, and pouring the contents into two glasses of ice. “Here, drink this.” “I just told you I’m training. I can’t. Do you have any idea how much sugar is in alcohol? I'm not trying to overload myself and get all bloated. Besides, it blunts my focus and makes me get lazy about training.” “Suit yourself, I guess. Although, people who won't drink have always seemed fucked up to me. How can you trust a person who's never willing to let their guard down around you?” “I've certainly never met any douchebags who drank, have you? You've figured out how to save

the human race, Speed: let's just all get drunk all the time, and we can trust each other.” Darcy was happy with that come back, and Speed even gave a little shrug and relented on the topic. “And I’ve never met any straight-edge dick heads who don’t touch a drop, have you? It's not your decision to stay sober if someone else has told you to do it. Tell me, does your coach make you stick to such a strict regime? Also, are you absolutely certain you won't partake in a drink with me? I'd love to see what you're like when you loosen up.” He pointed the drink, which he'd poured for her, at her again. It was kind of tempting, especially after the stress from the race and everything that had been going on that afternoon. She did want to take the drink, and almost budged. But that would have only been a sign of weakness, something Darcy was not in the habit of displaying to strangers, especially when they were vying to prove who was the mentally tougher out of them. “No, I'd rather stay committed

to my goal. Thanks for trying, though, but a few drinks wouldn't be enough for you to get what you're after, Speed. As for Steve, he doesn't force me to do anything. If I stopped showing that I was trying to be the best, he might not want to spend his time coaching me anymore, that's all. It's a free country, and don't you respect freedom oh so much?” Speed shrugged. “Tell yourself whatever you like. I really don’t like that guy, though.” Speed downed his drink, and then took the other he’d filled for Darcy with him into the bathroom. He walked in there like he had some business to take care of, but left the door wide open. This guy wasn't going to do what it seemed was about to do, Darcy hoped. She called out before he had had time to do anything but walk into the bathroom. “Do you think you could shut the door?” Speed laughed. “I’m not taking a shit, don’t worry. Just getting the hot tub going. You’ll love this thing,

they all do.” That term, 'they all,' meaning all the sluts he'd brought back there to have his way with. It was becoming more and more apparent that Speed was only interested in trying to get her naked. If so, why hadn't she already run from the hotel room screaming? Was she really thinking of humoring this biker to the point where she'd go into the hot tub with him? Darcy walked over to the bathroom door. “You’re acting like I’m going to get in there with you. Are you really that confident? Tell me what you’re doing to my friend.” She leaned against the doorframe and, surely enough, there was a hot tub in there. It was a nice one, as well, though she tried to hide any sign of being impressed by it. “Wow, you weren't just lying to get me to follow you in here.” “Why would I want you to follow me in here if there was no hot tub? What, did you want to

shower together? I could settle for that, too, I suppose. Who should get naked first?” “Please, let's just keep our clothes on, okay? You're not fooling me with this overconfidence game, and I'm going to find out why you were at the race. Aubrey is a lot more important to me than any stupid games you're interested in playing.” “Fine. We'll play it your way if you like – keep pretending you're not into me, if it makes you feel better. So…you must need a big sponsor to be going after the Tour de France, huh? Lot of money being thrown at the cyclists who qualify for that, right?” “Well…of course,” she replied, “it makes sense that there's going to be a lot of money involved in something like that. But you already know this, I'm sure. Stop trying to act like you give a crap about me as a person, even while you're getting a hot tub filled and ready, which I'm not going to get in by the way. And yeah, I need money I don't have.” She

hated to admit it to a guy who obviously had plenty of ill-gained cash. “Steve’s coaching me because he believed in me, knows I’ll get sponsored and be able to make it into the big leagues.” Speed nodded and gestured for her to keep talking, while he tweaked the settings on the hot tub and waited for it to fill. He finished off his second drink, about eight little bottles in all. “I bet having some money in the first place would help you get a sponsor, right?” “Yeah, it’s that whole catch-twenty-two thing. Gotta have money to get money.” “Don’t I know it. Well, let’s get in. You wearing any underwear under that? We can go in naked if you like.” “Are you mentally damaged or something? I’m not stripping down and getting in the tub with you.” She put her hands on her hips and shook her head.

“Whatever.” Speed had taken off his jacket already, and now removed his shirt. There were tattoos covering probably most of his torso. His ripped abdominal muscles caught Darcy’s interest right away. She fought hard to not look, but couldn’t help herself. He wolf-smiled. “Ah, you like this do you?” He patted the area and it didn’t move a bit. “Check this out.” He pulled his pants down and was suddenly stark naked. No underwear, no messing around. “Wow, I, you just went there, didn’t you…” “You can play with it if you like.” Speed slapped his own dick playfully and it swung back and forth. He laughed and climbed into the hot tub. “Oh, yeah, pass me my phone.” Darcy handed him the phone that he’d put down beside his shirt. “I’m setting a timer. You’ve got forty minutes and then I’m out of here, and you’re gone. Of course, if

you don’t want to kiss me, I’ll tell you everything you want to know first.” “Good. I’ll just be waiting in the other room, playing Fruit Blast on my phone.” “Whatever. I didn’t think you’d be any fun. Maybe a bit too stuck up — or scared,” he said smugly. Did he really think that kind of transparent mockery was going to make her get in the tub naked? Sadly, and without fail, his tactic had been working in a big way. Darcy was tired of fighting her urges and, besides, there was really no need to do it anymore. If she thought this guy was attractive, and he didn't seem like the dirt bag she'd first taken him for, who would it hurt to have a dip with him in the hot tub, even without her clothes on? Her body was in peak condition and it deserved to be admired. “Oh, fine,” she said, “but how do I turn up the bubbles? You’re not having a free show for the whole forty minutes. I'll at least have that much

covering me.” She started to hike her dress up, so she could take it off. There was a wave of anxiety that quickly succumbed to a thrill. She was really going to get naked in front of this guy. Still, it was best to keep acting hard to get, even though it was painfully obvious that she was willing to let Speed get what he wanted in the end.

Chapter Six Speed couldn’t believe Darcy had actually taken off her dress to get in with him. There was no way she’d done it out of foolishness, though. He needed to watch out for her, make sure she wasn’t working some angle he couldn’t see. As far as he could tell, she just wanted to find out what was going on with her friend. And Speed was going to utilize those good intentions so he could get his dick inside her, simple as that. Might be that she’d turn out to be a freak in bed. On the other hand, his hard dick would be blinding him to anything she might try. If she knew about the race fixing, maybe she'd decided to try and get revenge. Paranoia was a hell of a thing; just when Speed had gotten what he wanted, something crept up to make him second guess himself. Fuck it, might as well just let things happen and try to get balls deep inside this hot piece of ass. That didn’t seem like strong possibility, however. She’d had made a big deal about him looking away

while she did so. He didn’t care; he wasn’t a sad pervert. When she climbed in, though, he had to make a concentrated effort to play it cool. That body, it was too perfect, like something you’d see in a museum or art gallery, an expensive sculpture of the perfect woman. His eyes were fighting their hardest to shoot wide open with astonishment, and him doing his best to keep it together, act like he didn’t care. Shit, he probably looked like he wanted to eat her for lunch. The truth was, he did want to eat her up, and have her taste him, as well. “So, how long have you known Aubrey? You guys seem to be pretty friendly.” Small talk? Really? Where did all that confidence go? It's not like it was a secret that he wanted to fuck Darcy; that much had been clear since the moment he first spoke to her. He didn't make any apologies for that either. Seeing her body, though, that had completely knocked him back, made him feel helpless, not good enough to even hit on her.

“Yeah, we are.” Darcy looked down and must have noticed the bubbles weren’t covering her nipples. Speed couldn’t help it; he winked at her when she looked up to catch him staring. “I thought you weren’t going to look. Aren’t you bikers true to your word or something like that? Honorable criminals?” “Yeah, some of us are, but I wouldn’t go betting on that with most bikers. You’ll get fucked over in no time. Criminals are not respectable people, and there's nothing honorable about fucking people over. There is something more noble than most people will ever know, about making your own rules when the rules of society don't suit you.” “What, you’re not trying to fuck me? That’s hard to believe when you practically begged me to take my clothes off with you. As far as I can see, you are trying to fuck me over.”

“Hey, I’m not gay. I said I wouldn’t watch you undress. I looked away the whole time. You’re in the hot tub now, finished taking your pretty dress off. If anything shows above these bubbles, I’ll take a look. You can just make it easier and show me if you like. I like what I see. I guess riding those pussy bikes is good for getting a firm ass. But are the tits real?” He knew they were; it was easy to tell. No surgeon could make something as perfect as nature, he always said. “Yes, they’re real.” Darcy looked away from him, pissed off, or maybe just shy. “Thanks, I guess.” She shook her head in disbelief and then eyed him, took his features in. Speed could have sworn she was fighting the urge to ogle his cock as it bobbed about above the rising bubbles. The surging water always felt great, as well. It reminded him to take control of the situation and stop acting like this chick was out of his league. Speed was in a league of his own, so

it made sense that no one was above him in his own league. “You can look. I’d prefer it if you did, actually. That way I can be sure you’re not a lesbo. You do like cock, don't you? That Aubrey chick, she's not your girlfriend or something? Maybe that's why you're so protective of her. Damn, and I thought you might have followed me here because you couldn't resist my charms. Oh well.” “No, I'm not a lesbian. You don't have to act like a total jerk to get my attention. I'm already in the hot tub with you, aren't I? You've seen my tits and most of me naked, despite promising that you weren't going to look. What more do you want?” “I'd feel more comfortable if you proved that you were into men, so I know I'm not wasting my time with this little bet. How am I meant to tempt you into wanting to kiss me if you're only into pussy?” Speed said. He was quite enjoying himself now, with the nervous energy gone from him. The upper

hand was totally his again. Darcy quickly looked down but it seemed like a momentary slip, not a conscious act. “Fine,” she said, and then let herself get a good look. No matter how much she tried to make an angry face, her eyes betrayed her when they went wide at the sight of it. Speed knew he had a lovely cock, and had never received anything but compliments about it. It stiffened more as he enjoyed her looking. He said, “There you go, check out my pet monster. You can say hello to him if you like. Give him a nice, wet, long kiss and see what he tastes like.” “No, thanks. You're not getting your dick sucked, Speed. Just give it up, and play the fucking game that you brought me here to play. I need to know why you were at the race, and why you made her lose the race. I might not have any proof that it happened, but it's only a matter of time. Tell me how you know Aubrey.” “I might, if you can control yourself long enough to

win our bet. Why do you care so much? You should be happy you won; you didn't do anything wrong, even if someone else might have wanted her to lose for some reason. Let's talk about something else, though. How long have you known her anyway? Since you started to compete?” “We were friends in high school, actually. We got into racing together, used to ride our bikes around the neighborhood trying to beat eat other.” “Cute. I got my first bike in high school, too. It was a 50-CC dirt bike.” he said. Darcy laughed, looking a little friendlier. “Now that would be something to see, compared to that big one you ride around on. You're calling me riding in school 'cute' and you used to get around on one of this motorbikes they give to kids to race on? You need to stop being such a hypocrite if you're going to act like you're better than everyone else.” Darcy leaned back a bit, the top halves of her breasts rising above the bubbling water.

She might have not noticed, but the change from warm water to relatively cool air on the nipples would have been hard to miss. The bitch was trying to play the game now, and she had an unfair advantage by being so — fucking — hot. “Yeah but I moved on and got a bigger bike soon enough. You're still riding the same thing as you did back thing, basically.” “But my skills and my body have been constantly improving since then,” she said, putting her elbows back on the outer rim of the tub. She smirked at Speed devilishly and pushed her chest out. “I'm getting toward the top of my game. When was the last time you rode competitively? Do you think you could, or is that bike of yours just for showing off on the streets and looking tough?” She flicked a little clump of sparkling suds from above her right nipple, such a perfect, delicious looking little thing. Speed shuddered and felt some

pre-cum leave the tip of his dick. If this didn't lead to something hot and even more wet, he would have to retire from chasing pussy completely. It seemed like it was a sure thing now. He said, “I don't compete because I am perfectly comfortable with who I am now. I'm not looking to prove to the world that I'm worthy of their praise. I don't want to show people that I can be number one, top of the game. I respect your attitude about it all, but you're still totally full of shit when it comes to me, sweetheart. And I see what you're doing with those things, and it's working. You have a fucking amazing body and I'd love to fuck you. Tell me something: is that going to happen or not? Are you just talk and show, or do you actually like to put your money where your mouth is and live your fucking life like it was your own? You can ride my big one, too, if you like. Still got about half an hour of possible fun left.” “No, thanks.” She went back to pretending she was bored, looking at him vaguely, glancing about the

room, waiting for the clock to run down, letting her perfect tits shine in their wetness and the lights from above the tub. It was that simple for her to shut him down, no matter how passionate he spoke. Women didn't realize how easy they had it with men sometimes. Even Speed was willing to do just about anything to have her, and now she knew it, was enjoying it, for fuck sakes. She continued, “Anyway…Aubrey is an absolutely gorgeous girl, inside and out. If this whole pseudointelligent thing that you've got going on isn't just a misguided show to try and impress me, you might want to consider that before you do anything to hurt her.” “I’d rather find out what you’re like inside.” “I’m being serious, Speed. If you’re doing anything to mess her over, I will beg Steve to bring his gun collection out to show you.”

“You can see how scared I am, Darcy. Look, it's making my dick go flaccid with fear.” He leaned back, opening his legs hoping Darcy could see his dick through the bubbling water. She looked down and then her eyes widened with erotic fascination for split second, because Speed was anything but flaccid. “God damn it, will you stop trying to get me to look at your package? I'm very impressed, oh mighty male, and you have such a wonderful dick that I just can't stop thinking about it. Is that what you wanted to hear? Shit, get over yourself. I know you're the one who can't stop trying to get a look at my goods. Back to the topic at hand, big man: you need to tell me what you want with Aubrey, and why you were at our race today. I take my athletic career very seriously and I don't want some random criminal coming in and ruining things for me, or my friend – for that matter, for any of the other racers. They work hard for this, and you should be able to respect that. If you have any

decency at all, that is.” “Shit, take it easy, will you? Carrying on like that, using that nagging tone, that's sure to give me a soft dick. Besides, I’m not trying to do anything to her. I’m not the bad guy here. Just trust me on this. And trust that Aubrey would much prefer this just stayed our secret. And no, we're not seeing each other in any sexual kind of way. Today was the second time I've seen her in person, and it was strictly business — her business, not yours. So, you can stop getting jealous about that.” “For some strange reason I’m having trouble believing that. You definitely look like a bad guy. Or is that just an act? And we both know that Aubrey is not a bad girl, never has been one, and she's certainly never let herself get involved with your type. If something's going on, I'd bet my money that you were the one to initiate things.” “Why, are you a betting sort of girl?” He wondered if she had any idea about the bet, or had guessed

that it was something to do with raising money through the race. There was a confused look to her that told him she wasn't sure what to think yet. “Cute,” he said, secretly talking about the way she scrunched her face up while trying to guess what he was thinking. “Darcy, I’ve got a new proposition for you, if you want to get things moving faster, that is. How about we forget about this stupid bet? There's no way you're going to tell me the truth about what you're thinking. You could be thinking about nothing but reaching out and kissing me right now, or maybe getting a hold of my pet monster down there in the water. I don't believe you would tell me if either of those things were going through your mind.” “That's your problem, not that your egotistical assumptions are true,” Darcy said defiantly. “The bet wasn't my idea and you can't back out now. I'm going to wait down the clock and find out exactly what you're up to with my best friend.” “I made the bet and that means I can suggest

changing it. Like I said: I'm into my freedom. Did we sign a contract? Do you think I would give a shit about a contract if it worked against me? No honor among thieves, don't you know? Besides, I know you want to kiss me, but you’d never admit it, so I’m bound to lose. How about I just tell you everything you want to know?” “This conversation is going around in circles and you're losing your edge here. Your plan was to have me in your arms by now, right?” Darcy asked. She was twirling her finger around in the water, still displaying her upper half above the water line. The frothy bubbling was enticing and almost orgasmic. Speed wanted to do more than just take her in his arms. It was time to dangle that carrot she kept asking for a little closer and make sure she had no choice but to chase it, right onto his dick. “What are you afraid of? I'm not asking you to do anything you wouldn't do in polite company. In

return, you will find out every last, little detail you're looking for. That's a win-win situation if you ask me,” Speed said. “Yeah, I believe you’re going to do that. What do you want in return? I’m not taking a ride on your little monster there.” “Tell me it’s little when I’ve got you face down on the bed, sweetheart. We could fuck right here in this hot tub. I dare you to tell me you haven't been thinking about doing just that. But no, I just want a kiss, that’s all. One harmless kiss, and you'll get all the facts. What do you say? Time's ticking away and I really do have somewhere to be.” “If you're so busy, maybe I should just get going, then.” Darcy actually stood up, not caring that she was exposing nearly her entire naked body to him. The suds and dripping water ran down over her skin, catching the light and enhancing the raw sexuality of her body. “Let me tell you something now: it's been one hundred percent clear right from

the second you saw me you have wanted me. So, are you going to let me leave without at least trying to meet me halfway?” She put her foot up and made like she was about to get out. “Okay, okay. As much as I'd love to watch you walk away, I'd hate to see you leave. Just one little peck, not even open-mouthed. If you don't like it, you can just find out what you want to know and leave. I'll never try to contact you again, or contact Aubrey. Don’t hold out on me, I’ve got to have that at least if we’re not going to fuck.” “Shit. You’re an asshole. I was never going to have sex with you. I’m not that type of girl, like the whores you probably pay to do whatever you —” “I don’t need to pay for sex, thank you. Come on, what are you afraid of?” “I’m afraid of catching whatever you picked up from all the brainless sluts you’ve fucked since you got your first boner. You, though? I’m not afraid of

criminals. They’re common as shit. You’re not better than me just because you break the law and hurt innocent people.” “I don’t hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” “Right, you probably have your men do that for you, so you can keep those pretty fingernails of yours clean. Who’s your manicurist?” Shit, he knew it was a bad idea going to that woman to get them cleaned up. “Hey, the bitches like to know my hands are clean when I get them in their goodies. No one likes a dirty thumb in their asshole. You'd appreciate that, wouldn't you?” Darcy shook her head and just left her mouth open slightly, taken aback by that remark. “You're unbelievable. It almost seems like you're trying to act charming or maybe sophisticated, and then you go and say something as vulgar as that. I can't get a good reading on you, Speed…”

“And that's why you're so interested in me. I think it's safe for me to assume you're tired of those meathead athletic types. Them and their black-andwhite, win-or-lose, way of looking at the world. Me, I'm worth your time and much more. But you didn’t answer me, Darcy. Just a single kiss, then I’ll tell you everything and you can go home alone, unless you get so moist and wanting you decide to go for a ride on my dick after all.”

Chapter Seven Darcy told herself being put on the spot and given a hard time by Speed wasn’t getting to her. It was a simple playground tactic the bad boys around her had been trying to use since she could walk. He was being mean to try to make her like him, as though it was somehow meant to be impressive. There was no way she was so immature and easy to manipulate. So, the alternative explanation for response was much worse: she actually wanted to kiss this selfish prick. Darcy sat back down. “If you're not going to leave, does that mean you want to find out more about my involvement with your friend? I know you'd do anything for her, but would you risk a kiss with me? I promise it's going to be the best kiss you've ever had, and you will not want to leave.” Speed leant forward in the water, like he was getting ready to push over to her side of the hot tub. His enthusiasm was flattering but it also made her feel like she didn't have a choice.

“If I say no, are you actually going to accept that? Is this even my decision or are you just going to keep whining about it like a petulant little boy, nil you get what you want?” “Hey, say the word and I'll back off. No hurt feelings, sweetheart,” said Speed. Darcy sighed. “Fine. Let’s get this over with then, and no tongue.” Those words were all she got out, because Speed was moving through the water immediately, his taut body like a tightly coiled spring that had for the first time been allowed to release its energy. He kissed her, just a little, not trying to get anything more than the simple 'peck' they’d agreed to. It was warm and tender, which was extremely surprising. He didn’t even try to slip his tongue down her throat or open his mouth to exchange saliva. It was just a kiss, a proper one, like they were on a first date or something.

And then it was over, and he pulled his head back from her. Their eyes locked onto each other and something deep went between each of them, even though they were no longer touching. In fact, he had not put even a single finger on Darcy while they were kissing. She had expected him to be nothing but hands, ready to grab whatever he could while she was letting him get that close to her. But, no, he certainly didn't even try. It was almost offensive, and Darcy realized she wasn't going to be able to keep fending him off, not if she wanted him to keep making advances. She did want him to keep trying to get with her. There was no point fighting it any more. All of these thoughts, and even more that she couldn't even work through her conscious mind, raced around at the back of her vision. While her brain was busy, their eyes remained locked. It might have been some time since either of them had moved. Speed finally looked like he was going to give up, after the long silence and without Darcy

reacting much to the kiss. So, she put her hand on his arm and let it rest there. Darcy couldn’t resist any more, and for some reason that kiss was more of a turn on than any porn-style make out session he could have tried to initiate in the tub. Her pussy was begging her to do something, anything more than just put a hand on his arm. Luckily, Speed took that as the sign he'd been hoping for, and he reached for her, drew her in toward him. They were in the middle on the hot tub, the bubbles rising and jostling all around them. Kissing again, this time not just a little, closedmouth one. Darcy's body shook and that only added to the pleasure the bubbles were causing all over her skin. He was so firm, capable of doing a lot of damage with those muscular hands. But they were moving over her body in such a gentle and caring way, it made her feel something almost sentimental.

“I've been wanting to kiss you since the second I saw you,” he said. Darcy almost didn't do it, but she told him, “I thought the same thing. Only I wanted to do a lot more than just kiss you. Does that make me a slut or what?” “It doesn't make me a slut; it doesn't make you a slut. Let's just enjoy this ride while we can.” Speed turned himself away from her a little, breaking up their tight embrace in the center of the water. Darcy wondered if he was going to ask her to get out of the hot tub. She didn't want to yet, because it was such a perfectly sensual experience, no doubt heightened by the caressing jets. “Where are you going?” she said, but he wasn't moving away from her. He was just shifting back so he could angle his thick fingers down, over her breasts, her flat and taut stomach…

It didn’t take long and he had two fingers inside of her. She gasped, moisture lining her succulent lips and making her breath feel damp as she inhaled. The warmth of the water seemed to exponentially increase, like it had been continually heating up over a low flame; just now she was realizing how hot she'd been feeling this whole time. Speed worked wonders with just two fingers. They slipped easily through the wetness, in and out of her. He'd completely ignored her clit and gone straight for penetration, as though he'd been focused on ensuring that at least part of him was inside her, like she might still decide to leave, and hence leave him never knowing what that felt like. It was good, she could assure anyone. “Kiss me again,” she told him, and he did, working his fingers like meat hooks inside her, seeking out the right spot and giving it all of their attention. This guy knew his way around a woman's body. He must have been inside so many that no one could ever give an accurate account.

“Do you want to fuck?” he asked. A simple request, but one that had so much impact. Darcy nodded, unable to withdraw her mind from the intense pleasure that she was feeling, the arousal of being in the moment and no longer caring about anything else. It was warming and invigorating to be able to feel that way, almost like she felt on her bike, out there in a race. “I want you so bad,” she said. “Prove that you're not all talk and make me feel it.” Next, he took hold of her and began to move her body away from the middle of the hot tub. She wasn't sure what he wanted at first, but quickly realized that he was going to take her from behind. Those strong hands turned her around to lean up against the white edge of the hot tub. The whole time, their breathing was heavier than it needed to be. Each of them in good shape, and would not have been out of breath so easily. The passion of

the moment was hard to fight, and even Darcy found herself moving toward the cusp of hyperventilating, even if she did so willingly. She focused and tried to steady herself. The damp heat all around, cut only by the rising steam, made that difficult to do. “Go slow, just for now,” she said. That was almost an order for herself, but Speed responded, as well. “Whatever you need,” he replied. He took the back of her damp hair in his left fist, using it only to guide her up against the edge of the hot tub, to work her into the perfect position and angle, so this would be the ultimate experience. He didn't pull at her hair, though, but held it tightly between his fingers. It made Darcy feel like she was inside his warm center of the world, with no way anything could ever harm her. Taken care of by a real man who was about to fuck her silly. It was the hottest moment of her life, but that was about to change.

With his other hand, Speed guided himself up against Darcy. The bulging end of his cock glided along the inside of her ass cheek, toward its delicate target. She pulsed as the anticipation grew, and he seemed to savor that final moment more than anything. He went to the left, only slightly too far. Darcy could almost feel him begin to enter her, but then he went back to the right, just a little bit too much. Speed continued to do this, and he moaned with satisfaction each time Darcy would shudder and arch her back. He even went with her involuntary spasms of desperately wanted ecstasy, mockyanking back on her hair to enhance the concave shape of her back when she did so. “You're the hottest thing I've ever seen, and I've fucked more women all over the world, more than most people ever even meet.” “Stop telling me about your conquests, you bastard.

You've got me, stop playing — just fuck me will you?” Darcy turned her head a little so she could narrowly make out a peripheral ghost of the man behind her, ready to take her places she hopefully had never been before. He was in charge and it was driving Darcy wild that he wouldn't just stick it inside of her already. How can he have so much willpower about this? The guy wasn't exactly the kind of person who would show any restraint, not like Darcy and Aubrey did every day during their lives of training. “Isn't this killing you?” she asked. “I'm willing to wait, if it will make things more enjoyable. You should feel flattered, Darcy. Most bitches don’t get to take up so much of my time. What an asshole! But she couldn’t help but love it, and that was confusing her. Something also told Darcy it was not going to be the only time they'd fuck; it was already hotter than most lays she'd had, and he was still toying with her. She kept telling herself it wasn’t because of how mean he was being.

Without further ceremony or warning, Speed put his pelvis forward, dick still in his free hand. He slid inside her so easily, helped by the warm water and her extreme arousal. “Oh, fuck,” she uttered. She had not realized the true extent of how horny Speed had been making her, but that was his whole plan all along, obviously. Darcy stuck her ass out and pushed back into his thrusts. She moaned as the momentum increased. What followed next became the new hottest moment of her life, and each concurrent second overtook the one that had come before. Escalating toward a distant climax, the pleasure only grew and grew. It wasn't long before Speed was pounding her as fast as she could handle. So much for going slow, but then again, she hadn't exactly asked him to slow down. It went from sensual and working from tip to balls, pushing in and out the entire length into her — to taking it like a sledgehammer — in maybe

thirty seconds. Before he was even giving her all he had, Darcy was feeling it more than she was used to. It didn't hurt exactly, but she was being worked hard. “How do you like me now? Think you could handle it a bit harder?” He sounded harsher now, like he was letting himself get carried away. That was fucking hot and Darcy just nodded her head eagerly. “Of course!” she called back over her shoulder. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she could take it as hard as he might be able to give it. The average guy she'd slept with could get going pretty well, but they all ran out of steam relatively soon, or they'd have to slow down to avoid blowing their load early. It didn’t matter, because she would not give him the satisfaction of asking for it slower. Whether or not she could take it didn’t matter. He started to fuck her harder, faster, somehow getting a solid grip in the slipperiness of the tub. He put his right hand out in front of her to grab the edge of

the tub and used it to stabilize his motions. With his left hand, he pulled back on her long and healthy hair. That was amazing, like she was being ridden hard and dirty. “Yeah, pull my hair,” she said without thinking. That kind of thing had never come out of her mouth before, but it wasn't like she didn't think about being slutty. Maybe it just took a bad boy to bring out her bad side. It was the fastest, and definitely the hottest, sex Darcy had ever had. She felt like she wanted to come so soon, even her vibrator, with all of its little features, couldn't have the same effect on her. Speed used his cock like a weapon, and his hands were purely for making sure his target remained just where he needed her to be. Darcy was happy to be that target, and didn't want to ruin the good feeling by trying to move or slow things down; it did hurt, but the pleasure certainly overshadowed that slight pain.

Darcy was an athlete, and she was no stranger to a nice, hard fuck. Those good sexual partners were just few and far between, leaving her usually wanting more than she could get. Speed was something else, though — he was a fucking demon and it made Darcy wish she had done more with him before they'd started having sex. She wanted to suck his dick while he stood before her. She wanted him to fuck her in public, even if people were watching. There was nothing she wouldn't do just to make herself cum harder, to prove to him she could take anything he was willing to give to her. The thoughts all built up like bubbles rising in the hot tub, steam gathering and building up inside her mind until her body was set to explode. Within what must have been just a few minutes, she screamed out and started to climax loudly, letting her lungs release with complete abandon. She might not have made that much noise in her life, even while training and struggling to take a steep

incline, or get past a rider who had been ahead of the pack for an entire race. It was amazing. “What…the fuck…was that?” she asked. It wasn't even a rhetorical question; she genuinely wanted to know what and how this man had been able to manipulate her body in so many wonderful ways, which she could never had done herself. “I knew your pussy would be good,” he said to her. Darcy didn't move away from the edge of the hot tub, and Speed rested forward against her back a little. He didn't actually let any of his body's weight lean on her, but their skin clung together with the moisture and their heat. He bit back of the neck, just under her hair line. His breath was hot on her skin, even with the rising steam from the water. “Are you ready to give it another go?” he asked?” “Of course I am. I’ll never get tired,” Darcy responded. She still wasn’t beyond trying to vie

for power and prove she was tougher than him. “Did you cum? I didn't feel it,” she said, feeling a little selfish for not noticing whether he had or not. It was difficult to feel with all the water, and the extreme height of her own orgasm. “Not yet, but I'm going to fucking fill you up, don't worry about that.” He grabbed her tits from behind, one in each of his hands. They filled his palms as though they were custom made to go together, without being too big or too small for him. The second time, a few minutes later, she came in a more relaxed way. Physically, it was fiery and passionate, as far as the hard pounding Speed continued to give her from behind. But the sensation that crept and then swirled inside her, through her flesh, pumping around with her blood brought a calm focus that made her realize she wasn’t making a mistake with this guy. “Are you kidding me?” she asked dreamily as he pulled out from her. “How did you do that? My

pussy’s still vibrating.” “Lots of practice, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll be back to try and figure it out though. They always want more.” “Don’t be so sure of yourself,” she said. He then helped her out of the tub, and into a warm robe. It was unexpected but maybe he was just feeling relaxed and charitable after cumming. Without his biker gear on, it was easy to pretend Speed was a completely different type of person. Even with the tattoos still covering a lot of his muscular physique, he almost fit the part of an okay guy. He placed her down on the bed and Darcy just went all squishy in his strong arms as he laid her down. It seemed like some sort of dream, and that hopefully wasn’t some wall her mind had put up to trick her into letting this apparent scumbag fuck her silly. Darcy knew it was just a little fling, but it

was easy to pretend she was lying beside someone who actually gave a damn about her. “I have a proposition for you, Darcy.” “Hmm?” She didn’t much feel like talking. It’d been such a big day. “You’ll have to wait until the morning, and then I’ll tell you.” He pulled back the covers and placed them over her, then slid in beside her. “Maybe we can fuck again before I kick you out.” The robe was only loosely around her, and he slowly played with her perky, young breasts. The tweaking of her nipples started to get her horny again, but there was no way Darcy was ready for another round yet. She didn’t even want to admit to herself that she wanted more. He was such an asshole. But it would be hard to pass up a chance at more sex like that. “That’s fine. I have to train at six anyway,” she

said absent-mindedly. It was automatic at this point, her training routine with Steve. “My alarm’s going to go off at five. Don’t mess it with.” “No problem. We’re going to need to talk about my proposition, as well. You’ll love it. I bet you’re pretty worn out – a race and a good, hard fuck. Get some rest. I might watch TV first.” That was odd. Why does he care if I get rest? “Sure…,” she mumbled. “Do you really have something to ask me? What is it?” “Of course I do, and you're going to love it. I promise you will. Just wait until the morning and we can talk business.” “Business?” He ignored her and grabbed the remote control from the bedside table, for the little television set that was included in the room. As the sounds and flashing colors came on, Darcy’s eyes drew closed

and she was fast asleep in no time, her nipples still firm from being tweaked, and her pussy pulsating with immense satisfaction.

Chapter Eight The morning came faster than his new sexual partner had. When he first woke up and felt that glorious aching in his body, down through his manhood, he remembered how much fun it had been. And Speed had been with women in plenty of different ways – more exotic methods of intercourse, group sex with a bunch of chicks and him as the only man – things that would make the average guy furious with jealously. Yeah, he'd done it all and had it all, but waking up the next day had never felt the same way. Like his brain had known it needed to be up extra early that day, Speed even woke up before the sun had properly started to rise. He just lied there in the darkness, Darcy cuddled up against him like they were long time lovers, or, perhaps, even more. The light started to slowly break in around the edges of the plastic blinds that covered the small

hotel room's windows. It created a halo effect around the black coverings, and was great to watch. The day felt right, like a lot of energy was sizzling around him. There was nothing that could ruin the focus of moments like that, short of some unexpected disaster. And that seldom ever happened, even to a guy who was involved in so much of society's underbelly. That silent reflection would soon be gone with all the rush and movement of people throughout the day. Yeah, he was eagerly awaiting more time to talk to her; that's not what it was about. He wanted to savor that alone time when the world was perfect, before anything could be ruined — before he needed to go back to being the hardened MC president he was. While the world was still asleep, he could just be and not need to worry about any of that. The relief of those moments often helped him summon the resolve to be as tough as fucking nails. None of these things came out in conscious thought. After all, that would have ruined the Zen of it. No, he just enjoyed lying there

in the nude, with a pure and equally nude woman who he had already started to admire. It was a shame when it came to an end, and Darcy started to stir. That didn’t matter to Speed, because there were a whole lot of little cogs moving around inside his head. Yes, he was cooking up a scheme that was sure to bring some big changes. In fact, he woke up earlier than he usually would have. That might have been due to the relatively light amount he drank that night. Being with someone who was so straight they didn't even drink was probably a big factor there. It didn't feel too bad, though, kind of like having more energy; it definitely was not a waste of the night, and his empty balls were proof of that. As she started to stir, he carefully rolled away from her so he could get up quietly. By the time she was making cute little noises and rustling around in the sheets, Speed was already up. He dressed himself with a fresh outfit from the closet. He always kept clothes there for himself, and even a

few different items for women. They seemed to like being able to walk out in a different outfit, as though it wasn't still obvious what they'd been doing throughout the night. Sleep was not one of those things usually. This was a pleasant change of pace, almost like he was reverse-slumming it in the 'burbs, as opposed to living the lone-wolf life of a hardened biker. He grinned to himself and shook his head as he finished getting dressed, by putting on the all-important MC jacket he'd earned with plenty of blood (not always his own), sweat, and tears. Speed was pumped up and ready to talk about it. “Mornin’,” he said when he noticed Darcy’s eyes were open. She stretched a little before getting up, and then shot out of bed without any problems. Her eyes were clear and she seemed fully rested. She had a youthful spring in her movement that really demonstrated what a fit and hot piece of ass she was.

That was a lot different from the cheap floozies he was used to waking up with. They partied hard all night, and needed a cigarette and a shot of whiskey, or maybe a nose full of something harder, before they could even face the day. “You wake up this good every day?” As he said that, she started to do simple little exercises like stretching her arms out above her head, touching her toes, and that sort of thing. She was doing something that looked like it belonged on an early morning aerobics show when she replied. “Yeah well, I'm in top condition. It's just one of the perks of not treating my body like a dumpster.” “I don't know, your body can be pretty dirty, I'd guess. Last night was just a slight taste of what you're probably willing to do. Stop me if I'm wrong.”

“I haven’t decided if you get to find out. And I'm not the kind of girl to blow my own horn.” “Maybe you could blow mine after breakfast. I'd love to return the favor. Do you want something to eat? I know you athletes are always worried about getting enough of that caloric intake.” “Hmm? Why would you care? I don’t suppose you have any egg whites or organic whole meal cereals?” “Uhh…let me see here,” he said with doubt as he looked through the cupboard that was installed on the wall above the little kitchenette’s bench area. “There’s Corn Flakes here. Will that do?” “They’re not exactly slow burning. I’ve got training in —” She had grabbed her phone and was checking the time. “Shit, it’s only four-thirty. My alarm hasn’t gone off yet. You’re up earlier than I would have thought.”

“I might be a dirt bag, but I’m not a lazy one. Anyway, there’re some big things I want to talk to you about, and I wanted to be nice and awake before we did so.” “Well, that’s nice.” She seemed a little awkward, but that wasn’t exactly unusual. “Tell me what you wanted to ask. And you owe me some answers. I think you got your kiss, and then some.” Speed chuckled happily. “Shit, yes, I did. Not bad at all” He slapped her on the ass as she was walking by to go to the bathroom. He grabbed his coffee and sat on the bed. He thought about what he was going to tell her while she was gone. There was no way to just come out with the whole truth, unless he wanted her to storm out of that door. No, he had to get his pitch out there first. After that, she was sure to be too caught up thinking about what to do. Hopefully she would forget to keep asking questions about Aubrey and the race yesterday. Yeah, she would want to know soon, but this was going to be enough to distract her.

Darcy came out of the bathroom with her hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. She was also wearing different clothes, like the type that she'd raced in yesterday. They were tight and made of some flimsy material, giving maximum breathability while showing off her lusciously tight body. When she saw he was checking her out, Darcy shied away a little. Speed just kept on leering at her and raising his eyebrows. “You look fucking good in tight clothes,” he said. “I'd love to see you all dressed in leather, straddling a big hog between those lovely legs.” “Stop it, I don't look good in my racing gear. This is just practical stuff,” she said, but she knew she was hot. “Oh please, there’s nothing wrong with a little pride. I bet you secretly love it when guys try to come on to you.”

Darcy walked farther into the room and put her bag back down. Speed asked, “You keep clean training clothes with you all the time?” “I'm always prepared to train. It's just the way I've got to be; this is my life.” “That's good to hear, because I'm going to pitch you an idea that might help you improve that life in a lot of ways. And it's going to help me out plenty, too, that's if you're willing to go along with what I want,” he replied. Darcy sat down on the edge of the bed, not too comfortable and still on alert, suspicious now of what Speed might be plotting. “Why am I nervous all of a sudden? You're not going to try to drag me into losing and winning when it suits your book makers are you?” “No, just listen, okay? I need you to help clean up the club’s image,” he said as calmly as he could.

This was going to sound kind of crazy and desperate to her. “Now, hear me out before you make up your mind about that.” “What club?” She walked over and started rifling through the contents of the kitchen and fridge, found a banana and began to eat it casually. Damn, it was hot as hell to watch her even touch something shaped like his dick. She wasn’t even doing anything unusual. Or, maybe she knew exactly what she was doing, and had been playing him since the moment they met. Get that shit out of your head, he told himself quickly. “My motorcycle club. The Wild Cards. And me with it. In return for helping do that, I will be your sponsor.” She finished the mouthful of banana that she'd been chewing, swallowing as fast as possible without doing herself harm. “Wait, what?” she asked. That got her attention just the way he’d hoped. “When you say sponsor, how much are we talking? Do you

know how much money it takes to…wait, you’re going to want favors in return, aren’t you? Steve and I are going to be ‘in your pocket,’ as you say.” “I do my research, sweetheart. We’ve got the cash, don’t worry. And no, you’re not going to be ‘in our pocket.’ By the way, no one says that outside of the movies, or maybe in other countries. Fuck it, I don't know. The point is, I want to make this a proper business venture. The athletic angle is just the sort of thing we need to get attached to our club. People would see that we're just another type of enthusiast, the sort that prefers engines over pedals.” “I know Aubrey did something wrong to lose, or she did it on purpose. Either way, I was not the real winner yesterday. Why aren't you offering her the sponsorship instead? Seems like you're letting your emotions get the best of you, or your cock, at least.” “I think you have what it takes to make it. She

might too, but that’s beside the point. And I respect you as far as cycling goes.” “Gee, thanks.” “And maybe I'll give Aubrey the same sort of deal. That'd really put us up in the eyes of the public. You two are like their darlings or something, the gorgeous rivals who are also best friends since way back. The sports journalists eat that kind of shit up, and so do the fans.” “I don't know if she'd go for that. She has this thing about making it on her own. It would be pretty obvious that you're only offering her the same deal because you want me.” It seemed like Darcy would know her friend better than anyone else, especially when it came to riding. “Fine, but I think it's only fair to make the offer. If she wants to say no, that's her own decision to make.”

“Tell me this, then,” continued Darcy. She really didn't seem convinced; might have just been trying to make excuses so she didn't need to say no to him directly. “Why now all of a sudden? You must have seen other legitimate business opportunities before. They're all around you, like this hotel for example. Almost everyone you see is involved in some kind of legal way to make money.” Darcy kept eating the banana, having gotten over the initial shock of the whole idea. He could tell she was mulling it over, wondering what the possibilities might be; there was a keen business brain inside that pretty head, Speed was sure of it. “You're right, but I would rather do this with you. Is that what you want to hear? I'm not going to insult you by pretending that there's no other way. We're a little passed being coy about our mutual attraction, don't you think? Your turn me on. There’s nothing wrong with mixing business and pleasure, so long as you’re smart about it.” “Wow, you think we can just keep having casual

sex on the side. What do you call that, a business perk?” Darcy took another bite of her banana, which was now about halfway done. She wrapped her lips around it and paused for just a second or two, looked him in the eyes as she did it, perhaps purposefully trying to get him going. “Call it what you like. It was fun, right? You can drop the act now, sweetheart. I know you're tough, I get it. You don't need to keep trying to get under my skin.” “Oh, maybe I've already done that. You're right… How do I know I can trust you?” “I'm not making any promises. Just because I like you doesn't mean we're going to end up saying our vows together in Tahiti.” Speed tried to sound as distant as he could when he said that. Darcy smiled at him and winked. “I didn't know you felt that way. Speed, I was talking about the business side of things.”

“Well, when it comes to business, I don't fuck around. Besides, how’s that gonna clean up our image, extorting an honest athlete and her coach? No, this is all about us going straight. There's a point when it's too much work trying to stay out of prison. I'm tired of that side of things, and so are my boys. Besides, I want to help you. Why can’t we all get what we want without anyone getting hurt?” “Because there are too many assholes out there looking to ruin people's lives for their own gain. I’m sure you already know that,” she said. “I'll take that as a compliment, because I'm aware of the very many assholes that are waiting to take advantage. Usually I am the asshole for a lot of people. This time, I'm not one of them, Darcy. I will show you that I can be trusted when it counts, don't worry about that.” “Yes,” she said.

“What?” Speed wasn't quite sure, but he thought she might just be agreeing that he was an asshole. “Yes, I’ll take the sponsorship. Thank you…” she added in a way that was charmingly humble, without groveling in the slightest. “There’s a condition, though: no race fixing. Aubrey and me, we’ll be racing against each other. Neither of us wants to win, or lose, again because of the sort of shit that went on yesterday. This isn’t just about coming first; it’s about being the best. I get the feeling you can understand that.” “What makes you think the race was fixed? No one has said anything about that, so it's all assumptions for now.” Speed wasn't willing to tell her yet. Doing it at that moment might have ruined their agreement. “Yes, you haven't told me what went on. I have noticed that you made sure to pitch your plan first thing. Speed, I'm not some bimbo who's just

looking to score drugs and suck your dick for you. You can keep your secret for now, but I need to know what happened yesterday. I need to know my friend is all right, as well.” “You have my word.” He really did mean it, too. The look on her perfect face told him she didn’t believe him, though. “I’m serious about that, Speed. I know who you are and I know you’re a tough guy. All that respect and power you get from whatever you get up to? Doesn’t mean shit to me if you can’t keep your word.” “Hey, I agreed. I give you my word, everything you just said, one hundred percent. And I like Aubrey, but not in the way she might like me. Hell, I think she's had a crush on me all this week since I first met her. Believe it or not, the club has helped her and her brother out, while also getting a little something from the deal.” That might have been saying too much, but he was already getting a big

soft spot for Darcy, and a smaller one for her wellmeaning friend, too. “Her brother? Shit, of course it has something to do with him. God, he's such an idiot sometimes. I can't even begin to imagine what the hell kind of stupid scheme he's gotten into now. Do you know that a few years ago he got in trouble for selling illegal copies of new movies that were still in the theatres? I can't believe how —” Speed put his hand up to cut her off, and she actually stopped. That surprised him, as he'd expected more ranting. “It's okay, I don't need to know all the details. Just like you shouldn't always try to find out things you really don't need to know. Trust me, it will make your life a whole lot simpler. You can just focus on riding and winning now. Leave the rest up to me.” He tried to sound serious and sincere. It was difficult to do while she was putting that lucky piece of yellow fruit in her mouth. She finished it off and put the peel in the trash bin that was under the kitchen counter. “I

have to say though, you’re driving me crazy the way you put that thing in your mouth. It’s making me jealous — and hungry.” “What? Oh, you liked watching me eat that? Wow, you're easy to turn on. I was just swallowing a big banana. What's so sexual about that?” “Come over here,” he said, and Darcy walked over to him. He put his hands on her hips and looked up at her. She smelled amazing, just the pure scent of her own body. “I'm going to help you become number one.” “Then, I'm going to help your club go straight. But there's something else that's straight, and long, that I'd like to get my hands on again.” “Sure thing,” he said, “but first, there's something I've been dying to do.” He stood up and gave her a kiss on the lips. She blinked and looked away after their lips

parted. “That's what you've been dying to do? We already kissed yesterday, and more.” “No, that's not the thing, though that was nice, too. Sit down and I'll show you what I mean.” Darcy took a seat on the bed again and Speed got down on his knees in front of her. He moved her so she was facing directly away from the bed, and pushed himself in between her legs. He then put his own mouth between her thighs. Her cycling shorts left a lot of her smooth skin exposed, and he kissed her up and down, from her knee to where the shorts begin. “I'm going to need to take these off,” he said. “I've got training in an hour.” “I don't think you'll have any trouble cumming before our time's up. Do you?” He pulled at her shorts and Darcy bumped her butt up enough to let him take them off her, and slide them down to her ankles. He removed them and placed them on the bed beside her with care. “Just lay back and take

some time to unwind before you hit the road. Think of me as your new life coach.” Darcy did lie back, and Speed looked down at her pretty little pussy. Her lips were only slight, and delicate as a barely blooming orchid. The way she smelled drove his cock harder and harder until it was pressing up against his pants firmly. He kissed her at first, right on her center of pleasure. Then, he dove in, mouth open and tongue lashing before Darcy had had time to adjust to the sudden shift in stimulus. She gasped and then smiled profusely. “Wow. Oh, fuck.” Her hands twisted at the bed covers and pulled them up so they were taut between her body's weight and her grip. It was like she needed to anchor herself down so she didn't float away with the pleasure. Speed enjoyed that, knowing she wasn't able to control herself when he was doing his thing. Darcy tasted like pure sex, and Speed wanted to keep going down on her all day. He knew she

wouldn't ask him to stop until she'd gone at least once, so he made sure to get her steadily moving toward an orgasm. She finally did cum, hips thrusting up high and her feet writhing around on the carpet to stabilize her lower half. She grabbed his hair and held on tightly, like he would have asked her to do if his mouth had not been thoroughly occupied. “Fuck yes!” she cried out again and again. Speed was as satisfied as could be when he was done. Darcy went to have a quick shower before her training needed to start. They'd cut it pretty close, but there would be enough time to get there. And it's not like he'd forced her to take her shorts off and get what she wanted. She’d probably been waiting for another round since the second her eyes opened. All that tough talk and being miss bossy? That was an act, and she certainly wasn’t the first to try and tame this bad boy. Oh, yes, this new arrangement was not only going to benefit everyone involved. It was going to be a whole lot of fun.

Speed would need to take care of some business first. There were still illegal operations that couldn't just be cut off, not without pissing off the wrong people. No, he wasn't about to just abandon the life of an MC president. This would be a gradual thing, and that meant getting the ball rolling as soon as possible. Whether or not his further plans were going to come together, he wasn't quite sure. He just needed to keep on riding along and stay focused. Darcy might be just what Speed had been needing for a long time, but he would have to wait to find out for sure.

Chapter Nine After the amazing time Darcy and Speed had spent together, she was hot and bothered waiting for another chance to see him. That afternoon, which had turned into a restful evening, was the hottest thing that’d ever happened to her. The funny thing was, it might have been the most romantic, too, in an odd way. God, how depressing, she thought. Darcy was in the bath after a long day of training. There was still enough time to enjoy those luxuries, at least on occasion. Hell, it was almost a mandatory thing for Darcy to unwind. Otherwise she would probably wind up going crazy and find herself in the nut house instead of on the racetrack. She was relaxing in the tub, a light surface of citrus and berry-scented bubbles hovering just about the water line. They clung around her and it was comforting, and she wondered how much better it could be if Speed were still there. Better still, if

she’d gotten herself all worked up over a man who was more likely to stick around and treat her well. And she’d already touched herself to the thought of him fucking her once during that bath. It was the only way she’d now been able to relax and enjoy the warming water without getting hornier by the minute. Something was definitely changing inside of Darcy, but the depressing part was the person she was changing for. Did he even care about her? Had he even taken a second out of his day to think about her? As more than just a business proposition anyway? So, this biker had given her both the hottest and maybe even the most romantic time of her life. And all without seeming to give it much effort. Was that sad? Maybe. It could be the starting of something great, though. Darcy wasn’t a quitter, so she intended to find out where it would go. Things might turn to crap, but she was a tough girl. She could take it.

No one in her life understood this all when Darcy tried to explain it to them. She was practically too embarrassed to share the details anyway, with most people. There was her friend Beck, who had been travelling the world that past year. They hadn’t seen each other face-to-face for a good eight or so months, but Darcy still felt close to her. Nearly as close as she did with Aubrey. There was also the fact that Beck had always seemed sort of wiser, if not actually more mature. After drying herself off and throwing on a bathrobe, Darcy decided to give Beck a call. It was always difficult to know if she would be able to get in touch with her. She should still in Thailand, if Darcy was remembering that correctly, unless she’d already moved on and gone someplace else. So, she dialed, and the phone rang for a long time. “Hello?” said Darcy when the ringing finally stopped. There was no one on the other end, but it

was hard to know what kind of service she might get. “Beck? Are you there?” Still nothing. There was an odd, raspy sound, like someone had recorded radio static and then made a hundred bad copies of it on an old school cassette tape, until it was almost impossible to tell if there had been any sound to begin with. Maybe there was also a voice there under all of that, though. “Hello?” said Darcy again. “Damn it.” She hung up and retired to her bed to relax and check how her new blog posts were doing on her smartphone. She started to feel tired, put her phone down and started drifting off. The sound of absolutely nothing, apart from some cars going by on the nearby road, and the ambient sound of the neighborhood, was relaxing. So much turmoil in her life left little time to simply be. Her phone rang, and Darcy grabbed it without thinking. The noise had jerked her out of the beginning of sleep, and it was startling. She answered without checking who it was first, by instinct. “Hello?”

“Hey, babe, what’s up?” came Beck’s voice. “You’ve been trying to get in touch with me? I didn’t wake you did I?” “No, I was just chilling out. It’s not even dark outside yet.” “So, you’ve got a lot going on,” said Beck. “I’ve been following your blog…and Aubrey called me a little while back.” “That means you know about?” “I know all about him. But maybe you can catch me up. I’m at the airport, the hotel by the airport actually. I was going to catch the next flight over to this beautiful looking resort on an island a few hours away. Looks like the weather had other ideas today.” “That sounds amazing. Sometimes I wish I was there with you instead of working my ass off on the bike.”

“No you don’t. You’d love it, but I can’t imagine you ever giving up that dream, even for a million island resorts. So, tell me about this Speed guy. Does he have a tattoo on his dick, too?” She started to giggle in an uncontrollable way, like she was back in school or something. It was infectious and soon Darcy was laughing along with her. After that, Darcy filled Beck in on any of the details that Aubrey hadn’t already shared with her. That didn’t take too long, since Aubrey had a lot to say about it all. “I wonder why she cares so much,” said Beck. “Does she have a thing for him or something?” “I’m not sure what’s going through her head lately. You know how we’ve always thought that maybe there was something, well…you know?” “Wrong with her pretty little head? I know exactly what you mean. To be honest, Aubrey sounded fine, like she’s doing well. I just don’t think she wants

to lose her bestie to some biker who’s flashing cash around.” “Does it seem like he might be up to something?” It sounded just like she had been duped into letting a hot and heavy motorcycle club president have his way with her—and on his terms, too, no less— right before he picked up and took off. Well, it kind of sounded like that, because that’s what had literally happened. From the surface anyway, on paper, that’s how it had gone done. Darcy and Beck finally said goodbye, as the night had come along and it was time for bed. She went to sleep thinking about Speed, and how he might mess up her life. That was what everyone else seemed to be thinking about him, in the backs of their minds. But Darcy saw a softness in Speed, no matter how many nefarious activities the guy got up to, no matter how much of his tight and hard body was covered with expansive tattoo work. No, he didn’t

just let himself bend for anyone like that. If he weren’t interested in Darcy for more than just a quick fling, he would have never offered her the deal. The deal… It might be the thing that could take her life from so-so, and propel it up into the cosmos! The only problem was, Darcy hadn’t seen the guy for some time now. Sure, he was still in touch, but that didn’t give her a whole lot of hope. On the other hand, he’d been making good on his offer to support her cycling: to sponsor her in exchange for Darcy helping to give The Wild Cards motorcycle club a good name in the eyes of the public. Yes, that deal, the one that had been making her wake up during the night with a strange sweat. It was part worry, part excitement. No matter how tired she was, Darcy had been feeling totally revved up for some reason, even after a grueling day of training. And Steve had been working her

hard as ever now that she had the sponsorship money to back her up and allow her to do it all the time.

A month went by and she hadn’t seen Speed in almost as long. No, the guy didn’t disappear like she almost suspected he might, and there had been no race fixing or anything like that. The guy was actually good to his word. He gave Darcy a big chunk of cash, more than enough money for all of her sponsorship needs, and then he had to go out of town on business. “I can’t believe it,” Steve had said to her. “Do you have any idea where that money probably came from?” “You want me to win, don’t you? We’re not doing anything illegal. A sponsor wants to pay us to advertise their good image, and that’s all I’m doing.” Darcy had made her point in a very convincing way.

It was hard for her gruff but passionate coach to argue with that. When she was able to buy all new equipment, including a top of the line bicycle with all the extras, Steve had practically jumped for joy. Darcy had naturally gone with him to buy her new bike. That was a funny site to see, a grown man who used to be in the military, acting like a child in a candy store. “You have no idea how much you can improve when you have the same equipment as the big boys,” he’d said. “This is just going to level the playing field, though, mind you. Now you have the best – just like the rest of them. The winning is going to up to you. But I know you’ll do it!” He’d even carried the bike out of the store for her, and promised to give it a thorough going over before training the next morning. Speed had also been texting her every other day or so, too. He would send things like “How’s my sexy investment?” or “Keeping up the training?” and

“So, what’s it like having the money to match your skills?” Sometimes they were fairly business-like messages, and then he’d throw in little remarks that made her want him bad. “You keeping yourself limber?” was one of her favorites. Darcy couldn’t explain why she was so caught up with Speed, but she had her suspicions. They say all women want a bad boy, but surely that was only bad girls, and maybe the ones who were naïve enough to think they could turn a bad egg into a good one. Most of Darcy’s free time had been going into training. She’d never been in such peak condition, but, on the same hand, she’d also never been as tired before either. At nights, she’d also been fulfilling her obligation to The Wild Cards to help improve their image. That was taking the form of regular blog postings. Her blog had been set up years earlier, because ‘everyone needs to have a blog to make it.’ That was just another way to try to impress the overly choosey sponsors, and they still

didn’t pick her. Now, she was writing about bicycle and motorcycle club culture, in addition to updating fans about her training. The aim was to just slide in the MC stuff at first, so it didn’t look odd. Eventually, she would be known for an advocate of all riders, whether using motor or pedal, being part of the same group. Besides, the guys in Speed’s club apparently did do some legitimate work already. Yeah, there was a whole lot of other stuff she just didn’t want to think about, but some of them were mechanics, and they actually did a good job, apparently. Maybe it was a way to justify how shitty they were to people the rest of the time. Okay, so they weren’t volunteering to feed the poor and homeless, but at least there was possibly a way she could make the public think they weren’t thugs and criminals. Because, she had to face it, that’s who they really were; Speed wasn’t exempt from that unfortunate description. Whatever the reason, it was pretty easy to make them look respectable and legitimate, so long as Darcy only ever wrote about the good

things. Speed finally texted her about a month after their deal was made and said he’d be coming back to Denver soon. She asked if he’d let her write up profiles for each of his guys when he got back from wherever the hell he’d been. It didn’t take anything to convince him. In fact, he seemed to think it was a great idea. There was also the slight chance that he was so eager because he was looking forward to seeing Darcy again. “Yeah right,” she huffed as she read through their text conversation again. She secretly wondered if he’d been sleeping with other women and, if so, how many. That was stupid, she knew. He was probably with another woman the very same day he’d made the deal with her, after he’d been on her and she’d ridden his dick hard before training. Thinking about that kind of thing just made her sigh. It was never very upsetting, because her expectations for Speed had started out so very low, even while he’d been acting all mushy after their erotic hot tub session

had come to a conclusion weeks earlier.

Chapter Ten Business was going well, really well. Speed had only gone out of town for a month to take care of deals with some regular associates. Yeah, he wanted the club to clean up their image, but money didn’t make itself. No one got anywhere in life without getting their hands dirty. So, he sold a few pounds of this, helped move a few truckloads of that, did the usual rounds out in the shady little towns that made being on the road such a thrill. It was always good to get away from the same old Denver streets, and change up the scenery for a few weeks or so. And, man, there was always the best pussy in those Podunk towns. Maybe it was because they got bored being stuck out there, or more likely, they just loved Speed’s hot lovin’. But he sure did a lot of good fucking whenever he left the city. A few times, he found himself wanting to pick up the

phone and have a conversation with Darcy. He wouldn’t let himself, of course. So, he texted her instead, usually just asking about how his new investment was going. And if she was telling the truth —which he believed she was — there was a sure champion in the making. It was going to mean a whole lot of good publicity for his boys and their club. That only meant the money would keep rolling in. It might mean a goodbye to the out of town business trips that he’d becoming accustomed to, but there was nothing stopping a man taking his wheels wherever he liked, business or not. On one night in a little dive bar called The Belle’s End, he was getting his dick sucked by a couple of nice and nasty bitches in the bathroom. They were both amateur porn “actresses” who also had drug addictions. If there was a type of woman Speed liked hanging around better, he was yet to meet one. And it always made him laugh how they thought they were going to make it big in the porn industry. Maybe they would, if they got extremely, super lucky. The thing was, they barely had a brain

between them. As for business sense, they were severely lacking any of that either. It was almost a shame, not that Speed really gave much of a shit about their future career prospects. The shame was that they really did have the talent to make it, if that’s what they truly wanted to do. They worked his cock like their lives depended on it, and any other man would have quickly called that the best night of his entire life, past and future. But Speed had been balls deep in a lot of extra fun situations, so that just ranked up there among some of the better ones. If he thought they were the type of women to actually follow through with their goals and keep striving until they succeeded, he would have helped them out with some business. There was a lot of money in the porn industry, and he could probably talk them into “practicing” on his boys. They would have absolutely loved that, as well – good for morale, too, a little professional quality action from some young and hopefuls. But they

were just too vague in the head, and didn’t seem like they’d ever followed through on anything, or achieved anything in their lives. They were nothing compared to Darcy. But shit, why was he thinking about her? She was a great chick, hot as hell, hot in a more natural and pure way. These sluts could never hope to attain that, try as they might. But they were going more for the cheap and plastic look anyway. Still, Speed didn’t have time to let himself get hooked on just one chick, no matter how special she seemed. There was a lot of business to do out there in the world, and only a man with total freedom to make his own decisions could take advantage of it all, and built up his ultimate empire. Anyway, he’d laid out some lines of coke for them to share, and then pushed one of them onto her knees while he took a line for himself. She didn’t even make a fuss about it, just whipped out his cock and started slobbering all over it hungrily.

Speed was as high as a fucking kite by the time he’d finished the lines, as well as the rest of the bottle of whiskey he’d brought. It made it all the better when he’d shot his load at the back of the brunette’s throat, while the redhead gargled with his nuts. Man, for some reason, though, the intensity of the drugs, the cheap booze, and the skill those sluts went to work on their knees only made him think of Darcy even more. The damnedest thing, it was. None of that stuff should have reminded him of her at all. Shit, he couldn’t figure out why her face kept popping up into his head while he was busy getting busy. She wasn’t that kind of woman at all, and it’s not like they’d done any of those things together. At the time, he was focused totally on getting his rocks off and seeing which of the two bitches could deep throat him the hardest without gagging. Later, when he was back in his motel room…he remembered how satisfied he’d been layin’ back and watching some TV beside Darcy. Shit, it’d

been like they were on a date or something stupid like that. After he’d busted a couple of nuts — one for each of the two women, just to make things fair — Speed couldn’t help but almost feel bad. He didn’t make a habit of letting anything as stupid as sentiment get to him when there were so many more important things in the world. People were hurt every day, and lives were ruined in the blink of an eye. Anyone who sat around wallowing about their hurt feelings was just being selfish, he always figured. Anyway, ever since then, Speed had been thinking about Darcy’s perfect ass, shapely tits, and beautiful face every single time he put his dick inside a wet hole. It started to become a pain in the ass after some time. It was like something in the back of his brain, gnawing away at the squishy gray matter he used to do his thinking. And the more he thought about it, the stronger those thoughts got, until they were messing with him in a

way that was throwing him off his game. First, it was just making him less enthusiastic in the bedroom. Yeah, he could get the deed done, and better than any other man around. But his whole head wasn’t in it, like he was losing his lust for fucking or something. Speed wasn’t having that, so he just found even more women to have sex with, and drank even harder. He got to a point where he was fucking three or four women at a time, and he even thought about paying for sex. That way he could do literally whatever he needed to do, just to stir his appetite for pussy up as much as he needed to. That kind of thing continued at least once per day for the entire month, to a point where he just decided it was time to have a serious thinking session. He needed to work out why Darcy was messing with his emotions so much. Yes, he had finally decided that she might be worth focusing his attention on exclusively. The thought

of anything as pussy-whipped as getting a girlfriend made him feel like hitting himself in the face with a shovel. That’s what he would want any of his boys to do to him anyway. Speed had always discouraged them getting mixed up with a woman who wanted a guy who would stay with her. It was just inhibiting to their freedom, and it made them weak as piss.

He let that simmer for some time, and didn’t even hit up the local bars for any new chicks during that time. He put his head to his business, and found he actually got a lot done. He managed to work out some new leads in this one little town, where he could have a courier take up a load of product once per month. The profits off that would be very nice indeed. He would have never bothered to chase that lead if he were still reeling from the previous night of sex, drugs, and booze, like he usually was. Maybe it wasn’t going to ruin him, having a woman, but that was still to be seen. The

future could do some fucked up things to mess a man around. Speed knew that all too well. Then, there was also the matter of whether she would be interested in taking on an MC president as her guy. He started to worry about that when he should have just been enjoying getting away from the city. Speed put it off for a few days, sending her the text. That was nothing like him, and it made him feel like a bit of an emotional wuss. He tapped out a text asking her to meet him at the clubhouse, if she wanted to. Right away, he’d hit the backspace button and erased it before he could convince himself to press send. At first he wrote something that was too cold and brief, like a message he’d pass onto some hired thugs about kicking someone’s ass. Next, he wrote something that was too personal, too needy, too much like a whiney little bitch had written it. If that’s what she was into, he didn’t have any hope of getting her. And if she were into the soft and sensitive type, Darcy wouldn’t have given Speed the time of day. No, he decided to just be honest and direct, without trying

to put on some artificial façade. That had gone on several times, with different approaches at the same meaning. Why he couldn’t just be direct like he was with the other women he’d been approaching, propositioning, and then cumming in, he had no idea. There was nothing going on there but another hottie he wanted to get another piece off. And the fact that his club was going to benefit at the same time? That was golden. Finally, he sent her a text that just read: I want to meet up when I get back. Can you come see me at the clubhouse? Nice and simple. Of course she’d agreed right away. She didn’t exactly fall over herself to sound eager, but just send back: Sure, that’d be great. I’ll see you then. They sorted out the date and time, and that was all there was to the interaction.

It looked like maybe Darcy was aching for another meeting just as much as Speed was. After he went back to his hotel room at night, in whatever town he’d be going through, Speed tended to think about what he was going to do to Darcy. He couldn’t think of enough ways he could make her submit to him. She was the one in charge, she thought, the way she spoke to him and acted. But that all melted away the second she got her panties wet and needed a hard cock in between her legs. She was just like any other woman who still had a working libido. His fantasies involved tying her up some of the time. Darcy would let him bind her hands with police cuffs, and he’d take great pleasure in forcing a big butt plug inside her, or smacking her in the face with his cock. But he loved the idea of ordering her around, as well. She’d do as she was told, while he got just what he wanted. It never got too extreme, despite the pure depravity of his imaginings. There was always that level of playfulness, which he certainly didn’t have with

most of the other women he fucked. He was getting pretty eager to meet up with her again by the time he was scheduled to head back to the city.

Chapter Eleven “I thought you’d been looking forward to this,” said Aubrey. “What?” Darcy asked defensively. “Of course I have. I mean, it’s a great move, don’t you think? I wish we were doing it together, though.” It was the day Speed was due to return, and the fact that Darcy was the first to know about it had upset Aubrey. “Well, he made the offer to you, not me. I wouldn’t want to ride along on your coattails anyway. That’s not my style, and you know it. You’ve been acting weird. If it were me, I wouldn’t be trying to pretend I didn’t want to see him again.” Aubrey sounded bitter when she said that, despite the fake smile on her face. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not when you

talk about Speed. I wish you would just tell me what’s going through your head.” Knowing Aubrey had a thing for Speed – despite the fact that she wouldn’t admit to it – Darcy thought it seemed like a good idea to keep the hot tub session a secret, at least at first. That definitely meant Darcy couldn’t tell Aubrey about her growing interest — obsession? — with the guy. But, as best friends will do, Aubrey knew something was up. It took a week, but Darcy finally couldn’t keep the secret from her any longer. She’d set everything straight with her, even if she did leave out some of the more passionate moments. “I am being serious. You don’t need to pretend you’re not into the guy just because you think I’m so pathetic I can’t handle my own jealously. It’s not that much of a big deal to me, Darcy.” Again, she sounded much more upset about it than she was letting on. “You keep saying that, but I just don’t think it’s

something I need to go on about. It was a one-time thing, and then he left, didn’t he? What am I meant to think about that?” It would have been nice to talk to Aubrey about her worries, instead of feeling the need to walk on eggshells to avoid hurting her feelings. Even if she’d been into Speed first, that didn’t change what happened. Aubrey couldn’t claim every guy she met, especially if they weren’t interested in her. “Whatever. Are you nervous about going to an MC headquarters?” Aubrey asked. “I hope it’s not too rough in there. What do you think they get up to during the day? They wouldn’t be doing anything too full-on while we’re there, would they?” She actually sounded excited about it all, like this was some thrilling adventure. Crime wasn’t meant to be fun. People got hurt because of it. Darcy didn’t feel like delivering that tired lecture, though, and Aubrey was too pumped up about it all to listen. “What’s ‘MC’ stand for? Oh, I get it: Motorcycle Club. Is that right?” Darcy was letting her mind

wander, so she refocused and tightened her grip on the wheel. Driving was sometimes a good substitute for riding, and she could understand how people got their kicks racing things with motors in them. It didn’t get your ass in such great shape, though. “You got it. I mean, these aren’t exactly the nicest guys in the world.”. She didn’t sound as put off by that as she should. “And they’re probably not much to look at either, unless you want to give yourself a good scare.” “Not like Speed, huh?” There was some accusation to the way she said that. “He’s a pretty good looking guy, right? Must be pretty rare to have the head of an MC who looks like someone you’d want to take home to meet your parents.” “Yeah, maybe if it weren’t for all the tattoos, right?” questioned Darcy.

“Mmm, but they’re part of the charm,” Aubrey said. They both laughed a little. Darcy was amused by the idea of Speed meeting any woman’s parents, unless he was just meeting their mother for sex. “This is out of control,” said Aubrey. “I kind of like it, though. Maybe I’ll be able to score myself a hot biker dude, too. You can’t have gotten the only one in the state, right?” Her unhinged attitude was more disconcerting by the minute, but they were already at the MC headquarters. It might have been a good idea to go without Aubrey…but it was too late for that, already there with her while Aubrey excitedly chattered. “We’ll see,” Darcy said as they walked into the waiting room of the clubhouse. “Just take it easy, okay? This isn’t a game, and my racing career could be resting on how this goes, too. Be my

support?” “Okay,” said Aubrey like she was a child who just realized they needed to do their homework before they could go out and play. But she did sound sincere, which comforted Darcy. “I won’t do anything you’ll regret, I promise.” They could see the mayhem that was going on through the next door. There were women, some of them less than fully dressed, sitting around the place. Some of them were running or playing like they were on spring break. At least one of them looked like they were only recently old enough to be allowed to drink. Darcy resolved herself, acknowledging her ridiculous insecurities at the thought. There were also all sorts of booze bottles in there. The guys inside looked like they’d just been dragged through ten tons of filth, and passed the tattoo parlor on the way. It was like spying a bunch of drunk grizzly bears wearing leather jackets

during mating season. They were huge, but they looked like they were not the kinds of men any sane person would want to be messing around with. It was a wonder how the women in there with them had found themselves drawn there in the first place. But they were probably after the danger, the depravity, the free drugs maybe. Darcy liked the idea of being so well protected there. If anyone tried to do anything to her or Aubrey, she knew Speed would be all over them in no time. He was in charge of these guys and, for some strange reason, Darcy trusted him entirely. Whether that was a stupid move, only time could tell. The woman at the front desk stood up and went over the partially open door, which Darcy and Aubrey were looking through. She slammed it shut and then shot them both an ice-cold look. Heck, it was downright vicious. “Yes?” was all she said as she re-approached her seat behind the front desk. “Do you two have business here, or are you just

here to get a free look at some people having a good time? Unfortunately, some of us have work to do, so we can’t just sit around playing with ourselves all day. In other words: do you have an appointment?” “Yeah…hi,” Darcy said sheepishly. She wasn’t expecting to be spoken to like that today, no matter where they were. “I’m here to see Speed.” She tried to say that last part with some confidence, but it didn’t seem to impress to surly woman. “He’s busy. See you later.” And the secretary went back to her computer screen, clacking away at the keyboard. Darcy stood for a moment with her mouth open, not quite what this woman’s deal was. She looked over to Aubrey, who have a little shrug and seemed to be just as amazed at this woman’s complete lack of civility or professional attitude. Aubrey nodded her head sideways toward her, indicating that Darcy should do something about this right away.

With a short sigh, she squared her firm shoulders and pushed out her chest in an effort to look more confident. “No, he’ll be waiting for me. I’m the cyclist The Wild Cards are sponsoring. We have business to discuss.” “Mhm, sure you do, sweetie.” The secretary must have been at least a few years younger than Darcy and Aubrey. “I’ll be you have a whole lot of business to take care of, and I’ll bet you do it on your knees, too.” “What the fuck?” said Aubrey. “Yeah, that’s what I was about to say, Aubrey. Who are you calling sweetie? I could bench press your flat ass!” she said. “You might get away with your bossy bitch routine here. Maybe these guys even find it endearing. And they probably wouldn’t hit you for mouthing off either. In case you didn’t notice, I’m a woman, so I certainly don’t have any problem hitting another woman. Do you want to

have another look on your little computer and tell me where I can see Speed?” “I don’t see what he sees in you,” was all the woman said to that. So she knew exactly who Darcy was, and had probably already been told that their appointment was that day. Darcy felt like she wanted to plant her fist right in the center of her smug, pretty face. It might even feel good to do it. “Ladies, ladies, what are you fighting about?” came a voice from the inner door of the waiting room. It was Speed. “Is this surly young lady giving you a hard time?” He looked like he was about to come over and hug Darcy, but then he held himself back. “Francine, what the fuck’s wrong with you? I let you suck my dick once and you think we’re married. Get back to work or you’re fired.” “Sorry, sir,” Francine said, looking sheepish and going red.

“Hi, Speed,” Aubrey said awkwardly. “Aubrey, good to see you. And, Darcy, my special rider, how are you doing?” He took them into an office that he’d come from. “How’s training going? For the both of you.” “It’s great, thanks for asking,” burst out Aubrey. It was a little painful how eager she was to impress him, even though he was paying almost all of his attention to Darcy. “Just like I’ve been updating you, Speed. It’s going great. That sponsorship money is like a God send.” “Well it came from better than God, didn’t it?” He laughed at his joke. What an ego…but what a package that ego was wrapped in. They talked about riding a bit more, and how blogging was going. He’d been checking it out a little, and was very impressed. He even asked Aubrey if she wanted to get in on a sponsorship deal of her own.

While the idea did tickle her interest, she politely declined the offer. “That’s very generous, Speed. But I’ve always prided myself on doing this alone, you know? Just making it because I deserved to, not because I had the money to get me there.” “You’re going to need a sponsor eventually,” Darcy snapped. She was a bit pissed at the implications in what Aubrey was saying. “I’m not selling out or anything by accepting the same thing every single pro cyclist accepts. Think of how great it would be to get to that level together.” “Are you saying I can’t do it on my own merits?” she said. She didn’t look Speed in the eyes for the rest of their talk, which made it pretty awkward for Speed and Darcy. They discussed what they needed to, and tried to move it along. Speed didn’t seem like he wanted to draw the meeting out too long,

especially once Aubrey had done her weird, quiet act. She sat there with her arms crossed, and didn’t react to anything that was said, unless it was directed at her specifically. Even then, she used single word answers and tried to avoid using any emotion in her speech. Aubrey stopped with her quiet act as soon as they got out of Speed’s office. She took out some of her frustration on the secretary, too, which made Darcy smile. “Have a nice day there, doing whatever boring crap you get minimum wage to do. Hope it makes to feel powerful to mess with people trying to take care of more important business,” she said to the woman and then left out the front door. “Wow, what was that? You really tore into that woman. I can’t say it wasn’t fun to watch. She did deserve it.” “I’m just feeling a bit pissed, that’s all.” The car ride home was awkward to say the least. Aubrey kept clenching and un-clenching her fist, like she

was trying to crush something. But there was nothing in her hand. “You could have backed me up in there,” she finally said after about five minutes of driving through daytime traffic. “He basically told me I could never make it without him.” “He didn’t say that,” said Darcy, but then realized she shouldn’t take Speed’s side so quickly. “He’s a biker. He says what’s on his mind. We both know you can find a sponsor, or even make it without one.” “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you think. Why don’t you just talk down to me some more? Look, I guess I’m just being stupid as usual. Crazy Aubrey’s at it again, right?” “No one said anything like that, Aubrey. Please don’t be mad. If it means that much to you, I’ll drop this whole deal. I swear I will. I’ll never talk to Speed again if that’s what it takes to make you feel better.”

“There’s that talking down to me again. Thanks. You really think I’d want you to give this up? I’m a better friend than you think, obviously. Just do what you gotta do, Darcy. I can take care of myself.” “Okay, I guess. Where did you want to go for dinner?” “I think I’d rather just go straight home if it’s all the same to you.” There was no point trying to argue with her. Aubrey’s mind was made up. When Darcy got home, she prepared a late lunch. She’d organized one of her scarce days off so she could meet up with Speed. The plan had been to hang out with Aubrey more, as well. That didn’t turn out like it was meant to. At least cooking helped take her mind off the things Aubrey had said to her. None of that was true, and she was being crazy if that’s what she really thought. It was worrying, but hopefully things

would be better the next day. It was still nice to get the time to cook every now and then, and with quality ingredients. It was all part of the training, so money was not an object when it came to shopping for groceries for herself. Steve and Speed both insisted she needed to be fueling her body with the best, if she had any expectations of becoming the best. Who was Darcy to argue? She loved good food. When she’d just finished eating and was cleaning her plate, exactly the person she wanted to talk to called. She saw his name come up on the screen from the other side of the kitchen and raced over to it. Before she answered, she gave herself a talk: slow down and play it cool, Darcy. “Hey,” she said as casually as it felt possible to do naturally. “This is the first time you’ve actually called me, I think. “I just thought I’d see what you’re up to tonight.” There was something in his voice, a quality that

was never there before. “Wait, are you actually, are you nervous Speed?” Darcy stopped herself from laughing but she was honestly taken aback by the revelation. “What? No, of course not. If you’re not interested, I’ll just—“ “Wait, wait, wait. I would love to do something with you. I do have training tomorrow, though, remember? If you can get me home and in bed at a reasonable hour, I don’t see the harm in meeting up.” And doing a lot more than just hanging out or having coffee, that was for damn sure, Darcy thought. “Okay, then. How about we go dancing?” “You’re just full of surprises, mister. You dance? Seriously? Like, in front of people and everything?”

“I do when there’s a good reason for it,” he replied defensively. Then, as if trying to add a little more masculinity to his request, “All the women love a guy who knows how to move on the dance floor, isn’t that right?” “I can’t argue with you there. So, what’s the special occasion?” “Do I need a special occasion to want a pretty girl to go to a nightclub with? Besides, if I show up alone, I’ll look like half the losers there desperate to find a fuck.” “You should really look into poetry, Speed. Has anyone ever told you that?” "Has anyone ever told you you're a smart ass?" "I've had a lot of things said about my ass, but it's not usually called smart. But thank you, I take that as a compliment."

"I think this is going to be a lot of fun," Speed said, alluding to something other than just the dancing. He had something else on his mind, it was easy to tell. "Just how much fun are you talking about?" Darcy said, feeling playful now and wanting to keep prodding the bear, trying to get a better idea of what he was really planning between them. “You'll find out. For now, how about you shut that gorgeous mouth, put on a slutty dress, and get ready for some fun. See ya at ten.” “Okay, but do I have to meet you or—“ but he’d already hung up the phone. The guy wasn’t a big fan of goodbyes, and treating her at least a bit mean was a sure way to keep her interested.

Chapter Twelve Speed didn’t go around advertising it, but he loved dancing. The type of EDM bullshit they played at a lot of those clubs didn’t really do it for him, though. It was too upbeat and fruity as far as he was concerned. The way some guys acted when they went out, all cocky and like they were just looking for a fight…well, they all too often found one when Speed was around. He didn't feel like getting into trouble with that sort of crowd when he was just looking to have some fun. And, of course, he didn't want to dance to that shit they made for teenagers on pills to enjoy. No, he needed something with a bit more grunt to it to get in the mood. Still dance music, but something he could really get into. The ladies still needed to like it and be present, so it had taken some time to find a place that catered to his tastes.

“What is this place?” Darcy was asking him as they walked up to the door of The Slit, as the club was called. “The name sounds like some sort of lesbian club. Are you hoping to get me to hook up with some other women for you?” Speed thought about it for a moment and the idea was more than appealing. “That's not a bad idea, but I guess I didn't plan it out that well. No, this is just an expensive place that plays sexy music, but they don’t look at you funny if you’re not dressed up like a pretty boy on prom night. Don’t worry, though, we can have a threesome if you like.” “I think I’ll pass if it's all the same to you, Speed." They had entered the front door, which looked plain and nothing special. The building was square and mostly black, with lots of darkly tinted windows that you couldn't see through from the outside. As soon as they got up to the door, though, Darcy got a look at the place through the entryway.

"Wow, this is actually kind of nice, judging from here," she said. "I know, right?" Speed replied smugly. Of course he wasn't going to take her to a shithole or some cheesy club for kids. The bouncer at the door was huge, bigger than Speed maybe, but a lot of that was just fat. The guy didn't look like he could keep his stamina up in a fight for long, or run much. But the real job of a security guy on a front door was to look menacing, and this guy was doing that pretty well. "Speed, my man," he said as they walked up to him. "Forget the cover charge," he said. "Thanks," Speed replied. He didn't really remember the guy's name, but up close it was easy to tell that they'd met before. Probably when he'd come to this place at some other time. Speed was usually already wasted by this point, so he didn't blame himself for not remembering a face. Still, he

slipped the guy a hundred-dollar bill as a tip, and because he liked to flash his cash around when he was in the mood for partying. He worked damn hard for the money, so he should share it and enjoy it, right? They headed inside, and Darcy maintained her impressed look when she saw the club from the inside. It was big, but there were lots of little alcoves and low hanging segments on the walls and ceilings. That created a sense of intimacy, while still allowing patrons plenty of room to move around and have fun. There was a good mixture of different people there, from the upmarket types with their suits and designer dresses, to people dressed all in black with piercings and way too much makeup (women and men). Everyone looked like they probably had money to burn, and it looked like an expensive place to buy drinks. "Hey, this really isn't bad at all. Not what I was anticipating after you hung up on me. Thanks for

that, by the way. I wasn’t sure if you were going to pick me up or what.” She was shouting with her mouth close to his ear, the only way to ensure he could hear her over the music. Speed placed his hand on her shoulder as she did so, as though she might float away and break off their communication. Her perfume was divine, tangling around his nostrils with the faint but powerful scent of her body. God damn it, he wanted to take her into a dark corner and fuck her like crazy. "Speed?" she said, "can you hear me?" He'd gotten too carried away thinking about how much he wanted her, and forgotten to respond. Darcy was standing there looking at him with a confused expression. "Oh," he said, "I figured you'd be more keen if I treated you a little mean." "That's an interesting theory about women you have. How's that been working out for you?"

"Well, you're here, aren't you?" He kept his hand on her shoulder and pulled her a little closer. Speed wondered if he could kiss her without it seeming weird. He really didn't want to mess this up. If he acted too distant, she might think that he only wanted her for sex. On the other hand, if he were too forward about how he felt about her, it would only seem weird. There was no way Speed was going to let anyone think he was needy. That was just pathetic. "You're a pretty confident guy, but I already knew that. The real question is, can you dance?" she asked. "You better believe it," he answered, and he knew he wasn't just talking big. "How about you put your money where your mouth is? But do you think you could buy a lady a drink first? Non-alcoholic would be nice. Training and all that…"

"I don't know, you haven't really earned it yet. How about you put your money where your mouth is and show me a good time first." Speed didn't quite know what he meant by that. He was feeling awkward, trying to keep his bad boy image — which was completely real — without being too much of a dick." “Hey, Speed. I can tell you like me, that's why you asked me out again, right? I like you, too." It was like she'd read his mind and was trying to set it at ease. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "Maybe all women do like assholes, including me…How about you show me what a good dancer you are, and then we’ll talk about it?” She licked the corner of her mouth and twisted her hips around to bump her butt into him. They grinded away for what must have been hours,

only stopping to get a drink from the bar periodically. Darcy had just a couple of mildly alcoholic beverages, and Speed did not want to try to push anything more onto her. She was his investment, too, so having his soon-to-be star athlete all strung out wasn't going to help anyone. There was no way Speed was going to enjoy dancing without making sure his drinks were flowing. And Darcy didn't mention how much he was drinking at all, not even once. She didn't even give him a sideways glance when he decided to switch to tequila shots, and plenty of them. He knew how to act like a normal person when he was drunk, and he could hold his liquor with the best of them anyway. As far as his average went, he'd be at maybe two out of five, when other people would be vomiting their guts up outside. "Are you sure you don't mind?" he said to her as he ordered the first few rounds. "Speed, you're a biker, and I know you drink. If I

wasn't comfortable with that, I wouldn't have gotten involved with you in the first place. It doesn't worry me what you do, so long as you don't mess me around." He paid for everything, of course, including lots of big tips for the pretty girls behind the bar. It would either make Darcy jealous that they were giving him the eyes, and fawning over him while he was basically ignoring them. Or, it would just impress her that he was able to spend so much without thinking about it. When he pulled a wad of fresh bills out of his pocket just to pay for a twentydollar round, Darcy didn't seem to mind the attention it brought from the people around them. Every woman in the place was eye fucking him as usual, and that fueled his dirty dancing with Darcy. She was quick to realize how jealous they all were of her – that much was obvious. She loved it, too, staring at the nearest chick while dropping it in front of Speed’s crotch, or grinding her pussy on his thigh. And she really could dance. Okay, so she

wasn't using all the latest moves or working it with perfect technique. Her body was a well-tuned machine, though, and she really knew how to use it in the most primal of ways. She was equally impressed with his dancing, and they were the perfect pair on the floor, just like they'd been without their clothes on. It made him realize he’d been missing her even more than he thought. He’d been getting better sex than most men could even dream of having once, every single night. That didn’t feel the same, though – not as hot, not as right. Shit, he started getting worried that he might be more into her than she was into him. One sure way to fix that would be to keep her hot as hell for him. “Let’s get some air,” he said to her. She nodded with enthusiasm and they headed to the alley beside The Slit. As soon as they were away from the street, he pulled her close to him with powerful hands.

Speed started to pull her skimpy black skirt up, pushing her against the cool brick wall firmly. "So, this was your plan all along," she said. "I think it was your plan, too. Am I wrong?" "You're not wrong at all," she said simply. “Good. So, why don't you beg me to fuck you,” he said, getting excited about living out some of those fantasies. “Will you please fuck me?” she said, not really committing to the part. “You’re not getting shit until you beg me for sex.” Darcy lowered herself down to her bare knees on the dirty asphalt. “Please, fuck me, Speed. I can’t live without your cock inside me again.” “That’s a good girl,” he said. “Stand up and turn

around.” As she was complying with his command, someone appeared at the end of the alley, maybe just came out of the club to get some air in the alley themselves. Darcy froze for a moment, but Speed didn’t give a shit who saw them. He pushed her up against the wall and pulled her skirt up around her waist, and brought her panties down a bit. He looked over and saw someone standing right on the sidewalk where they’d entered the alley. Looking over at the person, an older man in a big coat smoking a cigarette and looking around, Darcy said, “Please fuck me?” What a dirty girl, Speed told himself. He spat on his hand and lubed his dick up, which was already hard. It slid into her tight pussy with resistance. “I’ll have to stretch that little hole out, won’t I?” “Yes, thank you, sir,” she said with her hands up against the wall and her ass pressed out, arching her back sensually.

“Good girl.” He grabbed her shoulder with one hand, and her hip with the other, and bent his knees to get a good angle, then pushed himself forward as hard as possible. She moaned, and Speed was delighted at how fun it would be helping Darcy come out of her shell. He fucked her slowly at first, making sure each thrust went from the tip of his dick, right up to his balls. By the end he had her screaming obscenities to the cold night air, before he came all over her face.

Chapter Thirteen The next day, Darcy had organized appointments with some of Speed’s club members. She was going to interview them and see if there was anything about them she might be able to put a positive spin on at all. Yeah, she was feeling nervous about meeting these men. They were probably a lot worse than Speed. He was downright charismatic compared to the rest of his crew, judging from what she’d heard from Speed, and also what she’d seen going on that day at the club with Aubrey. Further than that, Darcy had not even wanted to know what the club really got up to, or its members. There were probably things that would have made her think differently about Speed, and she wasn’t ready to ruin the ride just yet. Also…there was hope that he really was different than the rest of these guys. Time was still needed

for him to show his true colors, one way or another. Until then, Darcy was perfectly content with maintaining the illusion that Speed was genuinely the criminal with a heart of gold, a guy who was just misunderstood by society. Even if he turned out to be anything but quality dating material, the sex was too hot to let go of so soon. She would hold onto that for as long as she could do so in somewhat good conscience. It was quite welcome when Speed had insisted on tagging along to the interviews. He was probably just looking to keep an eye on how everything went, to take care of his investment. "Is that going to be a problem for you? I hope I'm not too much of a distraction," he said to her. "I'm glad you want to come along actually. I'm not a journalist or anything. I only have the blog because every other rider has one, as well. Seems like more people have them than don't these days. I never use the thing." She took a sip of her chai, having been free from caffeine since she started

taking this training thing seriously. Speed was enjoying a short black with cream. It was a little frustrating to see someone having those little luxuries that most people took for granted. They had met up at a coffee place near Darcy's house to discuss it, after she had been training hard for the day. It was nice to have someone who wanted to hang out in the evenings, but she was usually pretty tired. That was just a part of the physical exertion that came along with cycling, though. She needed to push through it and keep her personal life going strong alongside the training. "Don't worry about it," Speed said after he'd swallowed a mouthful of his steaming coffee, and licked a little bit of cream from the corner of his mouth. "My guys can be very civil when they need to. I'm not going to let you talk to absolutely all of them either. You gotta have a good sense of diplomacy to get to the top in a motorcycle club, just like any other competitive institution."

"Ooh, are they going to use words like 'institution,' as well? Maybe I could pass a few of them off as brainiacs, win over the whole nerd crowd that never wants anything to do with athletic events." "You're a very funny girl, Darcy. But I have to admit I'm not interested in you for your sense of humor." "That's good, otherwise I'd be in real trouble. Admit it, though: you also want to come along to make sure your guys don't mess this up, right?" "Of course," he replied. Any good leader would want to make sure his people didn’t say or do anything stupid during an interview that would go public. He would probably ask her to edit a bunch of stuff out, so Darcy wasn’t anticipating this to be totally transparent. She just hoped he wouldn’t ask her to blatantly lie, at least not too much.

Darcy liked a challenge, though, even if it wasn't a physical one.

The next morning, before heading to the first interview, Darcy needed to get to training. She was always feeling ready for that. One of the biggest perks of living and training in Denver was the high altitude. It was possible for her to cycle through the mountains and get a better workout than her competition. Why? Because the thinner oxygen up there forced her lungs to work even harder to get what they needed. That resulted in a big boost when she went back down to sea level to race. Some people might say it was going overboard to worry about that sort of thing, but the rest of the riders going after winning the Tour de France were sure to be considering every tiny detail. Darcy and Speed took her car to the mouth of the canyon, where she was going to train. Steve still had her bicycle, as he liked to check it over after

each practice to make sure it was well taken care of. He’d seemed almost possessive of it, like the cycle belonged to him. “You should really start keeping your bike at your place, Darcy. It’s yours, right? I can take care of it for you just as well as Steve.” “He’s just helping me out, Speed. You’ve got enough to do, but this is his job.” “Well, I think he’s being a dickhead lately. I don’t know how much more of his crap I can stand by and watch.” “You guys are both as stubborn as each other.” “I’m not stubborn. I can go with the flow… I just don’t like seeing this guy act like a strict father to you. He doesn’t own you. It's kind of creepy if you ask me." “Thank you for worrying about me,” Darcy

replied. She blushed a little bit and then changed the topic happily when they came around a bend and saw Steve waiting with Darcy’s cycle, standing beside his little van. It was a pretty modest and practical thing. He would use it to ride ahead and keep pace for Darcy. When they pulled up beside Steve, Darcy noticed that he looked upset. As she walked up to him, it was clear Steve was pissed off about something. He glared at Speed, too. “What the hell’s going on here?” Steve said. “Why are you brining this guy along to training? You’re not in high school with your latest crush coming to watch you cheerlead. If you’re not going to take this seriously, I will quit.” "Hang on a minute, Steve," Darcy replied firmly. "You are way out of line trying to tell me how I should be living my life! You're not my father, and you don't own me." It hurt her to say anything like that to him, and stopping herself from backing

down was tough. Luckily, it wasn't in her nature to back down, no matter who confronted her. "I just don't want you to fuck this up because you've got the hots for some cheap thug with too many tattoos." Speed had been called worse in life and Darcy knew it, but she couldn’t deny that she was happy he was still sitting in the car, hopefully unable to hear everything that was going on. She knew he could see the tension, though, and she knew she needed to diffuse the situation. "Steve, I'm not going to ruin this. I'm at my absolute peak, and you damn well know it! Let's stop this." But Steve was shaking his head and pacing back and forth in a tiny area in front of her. He was obviously nervous and had been thinking about this argument, the things he'd say and how he wasn't going to let himself be talked down. "You don't know how much I've put into your training," he

said, shaking his head and rubbing his hand over his chin as though in deep thought. "You're just like all those other stupid riders who didn't know what was good for them. I can't believe you're letting this guy take over our training. Now, listen here, Darcy." "What?" she said with a cold edge to the word. "You tell me what you think I should listen to, Steve. You seem to want to have control over me. What's your big plan? Did you find a way to get me a sponsor, huh? I didn't even have a new bike before Speed came along, so what was your plan?" "I'm your coach, and I'm the one who's calling the shots," he yelled at her. It seemed like he wanted to get physical, but Darcy was sure — almost — that Steve would never do something like that, especially not with Speed there. At least, she really hoped he wouldn’t. But then did something that was totally out of character: he shoved her. It wasn’t hard, but the act itself was aggressive without being very forceful. “You got that?”

Speed was true to that nickname, and jumped in between them like a flash of lightning. He moved so quickly that Steve didn’t even realize the guy had gotten out of the car. In seconds, Speed had slammed Steve down on the hood — hard. It was all so effortless that Darcy didn't even realize how much force there must have been behind those movements, not until she'd had more time to think it over. “Never touch her again, Steve, you got that?” Speed said. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” said the older man through huffs of rage and heavy breathing. “I’m going to kill you!” Speed pushed down harder, with Steve’s arm behind his bank, wrenching at it. “I’ll break your arm if I don’t hear you say it right now. You’re going to leave Darcy alone, and you’ll never touch her again. Right?” Speed was cool and collected in

the way he spoke. If someone had been hearing this all, without actually seeing what was happening, they would assume the biker boss was just sitting on an armchair, calmly telling someone off in an odd way. Steve let out a little scream that was pathetic and frightening to hear from a grown man who was in the Army. “Okay, okay. I promise!” He wriggled around like he was hoping to break free. “Promise what, you piece of shit?” Speed looked like he was just about to break Steve’s arm completely off, but still stayed calm. He didn't have the slightest bit of pity about him, and acted like he was just taking care of business, taking out the trash. “I’ll never touch Darcy again. I’m sorry, Darcy!” Speed let him go, but stood over him as he collected himself, and cradled his sore arm. “Get the fuck out of here,” Speed said. “If you break that

promise, I’ll break your neck.” Steve didn’t say another word. He just got in his car, leaving Darcy’s cycle behind, and drove off quickly. Darcy didn’t do anything that whole time, didn’t move or speak. She was horrified by it all, but compelled in a way that she didn’t want to think about just yet. She was actually turned on by the total power and control Speed had shown in protecting her. “I’d love to rip your clothes off,” she said to Speed, “but I really need to start training. I guess I don’t have a coach anymore… Can you drive ahead and keep pace for me? It’s not hard. Steve did it, and he spent most of the time complaining about not having a sponsor." "Seems like he was holding you back." "I never thought about it before. I guess I was glad to have a coach at all. So, do you think you could fill in and help me train?"

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

Chapter Fourteen Darcy snapped straight into training mode as soon as she got onto her new, expensive cycle. It wasn't as though she turned into a different person. It was more like she came into her true element when her gorgeous butt was on her bike. Boy, how any guy alive would love to change places with that seat, too. Speed switched continuously between his fledgling infatuation for Darcy, and wanting to do the most degrading things to her, and to have her do such things to him. It would have been fucked up to tell her about, but that was just another part of being male, really. He respected her like crazy, but also viewed her as a highly sexual creature who he wanted to tame. How to go about taming her without breaking her, that was the really tricky part. She was like a bat out of hell on those two wheels, making great time. He kept up the pace for her, just like she had asked

him to. As far as Speed could tell, he was doing it properly. That was far from one of his areas of expertise, but he was almost as good on four wheels as he was on two. Driving along at an even speed and making sure she was being pushed without needing to go faster than she was able didn't take much practice to perfection. Speed wondered if that was what Steve mostly did, and if the guy got much money for being a coach. He didn't spare the guy a lot of thought, and had not asked any other questions about him from Darcy. Steve was a piece of trash who needed to stay away forever, and that was what Speed was going to see happened. He put that out of his mind, watching Darcy work those pedals, her tight legs motoring around in circles, propelling her along that difficult road. It gave Speed a semi-hard dick just watching Darcy train. She was a total machine, and he was always thinking of fun ways he’d like to fuck her. The problem was that they hadn’t had enough

opportunity to do all those things, yet. There was the all-important matter of business to take care of, and that was what came first.

After training, they went back to Speed’s hotel room and showered, separately. It made more sense to do it together, since they both knew it was time to have sex soon anyway. But Darcy insisted that the after training shower was part of her routine, and she wanted to have the time and solitude to cool down, reflect, do some stretching, and all that. That was fair. Speed quickly hit the shower first, so she could take all the time in the world to do whatever she had to do. The second she was out that bathroom door, he said to her, “Put that perfect butt right on my face,” he said. “I’ve got a craving for something sweet.” He was happy with how he'd worded that, and knew Darcy was going to say yes before she even replied. He'd never gotten dressed after his shower, and didn't bother to cover himself up with

a towel or anything like that. He was naked when she came out, just like he liked being. He was hard and Darcy looked him up and down, before she fixed her gaze on his large dick. It looked like she was about to leap over and grab it. "That sounds like fun," she said instead. He had to hand it to her: Darcy was good at acting like she didn't want something. "Get down on the floor, then, like a good dirt bag.” She walked over to him and he did just as she'd told him to. Speed laid his head back and looked up at her, getting an eye full from that angle, seeing her beneath her towel. He started playing with himself as she teased him by swaying herself back and forth, so the towel moved around her legs and gave him an eyeful of her ass and pussy. "Get down here," he finally said when the teasing had become enough. He ripped her towel off and pulled her down onto him. And she didn't try to cushion herself from dropping too hard either. She knew how he wanted it, and seemed happy to give

it hard. "That's it," he said right before her ass came to rest over his face. Speed inhaled deeply, the clean and pure scent of her mixed with the fragrant scents of her shower products and soaps. It was fucking invigorating. There was nothing as glorious and close to divine, as having your face between two perfect cheeks. Darcy leaned back on him hard, too, playing with his balls with her hand while she let out little sounds of pleasure. She was facing so she could easily lean forward and lick his dick once or twice, just to get him going. There was no intention of giving him anything more, though, especially not engaging in a full-blown 69. The blood rocketed through his cock and it pulsed ferociously with how god damned hard this was making him. The idea of sex was far from his mind, and even further away was the prospect of cumming. There was plenty of time to enjoy the buildup, and for each of them to get to a high up place before they unleashed their ecstasy in that

way. Speed fucked her with his tongue, first in that sweet box, the honey dripping from her better than anything he'd ever tasted in his life. When he looked up and saw between the perfect peach that was her ass, it was hard to imagine any place in the universe that would be nicer. Some people liked to go on expensive vacations around the world, so they could send stupid selfies of themselves standing in front of mountains or lakes to all of their friends back home. He guessed that would make some people feel like they'd experienced life fully. But he knew there was nothing better than having Darcy's pussy right on his mouth, being as close inside her as he could and drawing in her womanly essence. Once he had completely brought her to a place of happy pleasure, and she was writhing and moaning on him, he started to work her other hole. He hadn’t tried that yet, which was a first for him. Usually the best way to punish a whore was to fuck

their rear end and see how much they could take. It was one of his favorite past times, especially with the type of woman he usually fucked. They were practically begging to be treated like dirt. They loved it. But, of course, Darcy was different. He wasn’t sure if she’d like it, so he started slowly, then he put a finger in. She just kept squashing his face with her perfectly round cheeks, and drenching him with her pussy juices. After a while, Speed tapped her on the thigh and pulled his head back down onto the floor so he could talk audibly. "Do you wanna fuck?" he asked. "Fuck yes, I do," she said. The desire was in her voice. Even if she'd said no, it would have been obvious that she was burning like a roaring wildfire for something to satisfy her more deeply. She slid off and got up onto the bed. "Fuck me on my bed, Speed. I want you to claim this space."

"That's a great idea. Bend over." She turned around and put her head down on her pillow, with her ass in the air. This wasn't going to be sensual or romantic. They were already beyond that thanks to the good fifteen minutes of face sitting action. He bent her over and pounded her silly.

They had just a little time to relax after that, together on the bed without their clothes. It was wondrous, like they were a couple or something, natural in so many ways. Neither of them spoke, and they only partially held each other. Then, it was time for the interviews, so they cleaned up and headed out in Darcy’s car. The interviews went great! Darcy was a real natural, and the guys showed her plenty of respect. That was largely because they knew their president was fucking her, and maybe even cared about her in

more ways than just physical. She also had a natural way about her. She could be a bit of a sweetheart when she needed to, almost passive, but then she’d fire up and turn into more of a tiger when it was called for. The guys told her what she needed to hear, and didn’t tell too many lies. Darcy wasn’t stupid enough to think there weren’t crimes being committed daily by these guys. No, but as long as they didn’t talk about those things, she was willing enough to overlook them and focus on the good parts. There weren’t too many of them yet, but that was all going to change soon enough. “I’ll be the cleanest looking MC president in all of Colorado by the time you’re done, sweetheart,” he said to her on the way out of the headquarters. “I know that’s not saying much…some pretty bad apples in that particular bunch.” They got into Darcy’s car and started driving to her apartment.

“Well I’m glad it’s working. I owe you big for the sponsorship.” “It’s sure as shit payin’ off! Worth every penny.” Darcy looked over at him and then started up the car and began driving. She looked back again before putting her eyes on the road. “What’s wrong?” he said. “Oh…nothing. Just, am I really worth that much to you?” “The way you’re helping the club, you sure as hell are. Not to mention the way we are in bed together.” He wasn’t about to start getting all gushy about this chick, no matter how great he thought she was. So long as he kept her happy and took care of her, Speed didn’t see why he should start turning into a total wimp. It’s not like they were married or something stupid like that. Something in the back of

his mind kept bothering him, though, especially as he said that. It was like a little voice, only he couldn't actually hear it properly. It was calling him a liar, a fake. “Thank you,” she said. There was just a slight amount of disappointment there, but she at least pretended to be grateful for the compliment. "Is that what you really think?" She waited for a response, but Speed couldn't let himself admit the truth. "I don't know what you mean," he finally said. What a fraud; he was into this woman and she deserved to know all about it. So, he changed the subject just like a true coward would have done. "You seem to be finding a new talent with your blogging. People love that you're posting more." She shrugged and accepted the change of subject. “I guess I’m just a people person,” Darcy said. “I never even knew it until I started putting some effort into my blog. I’m even getting more fans.”

“Everyone wins when you work with me.” “Not for people who work against you, evidently.” “Steve had it coming. He assaulted you!” “I know, I agree. Thanks for looking out for me. I'm not proud of it, but I think I enjoyed when you attacked him.” “I didn't attack him. I was protecting you." "Yeah, I know. That's what I mean anyway. You looked out for me, and it makes me feel like you'd do anything to help me out, to take care of me. You don't owe me that much either. You show more with actions than with words a lot of the time. Thanks." "I don't know what to say about that…Anytime, sweetheart.” Damn it, Speed could feel himself getting soft over this one. She wasn't buying the

whole distant bad boy thing. Yeah, he was literally a bad guy, as far as society was concerned. That didn't mean he had a heart of steel, any more than the next man. Back at Darcy’s apartment, Darcy wanted to upload the interview footage immediately. She was eager to see how it turned out, especially to see how she looked. Women were all the same, but Speed didn’t mind that. He liked them plenty enough that way. He sat back on her sofa while she worked at her computer desk, where her laptop and a bunch of other neat and orderly office things were. Pens, pencils, a stapler, and the like. All the shit people bought when they wanted to go all professional. He left that shit up to his secretary when he could. “Awesome! Uploads are done and, look, the interviews are live on the blog. We should start seeing hits and comments later today, I hope. Now, it’s time for your interview, big president man.

“I’m not doing an interview today,” Speed said. “But you brought your microphone with you. Here, look.” Darcy walked over to where he was and pulled out his dick. Holy shit, that mouth was just about the best place any man could hope to stick his dick. He leaned back and let her do all the work, before cumming in her mouth. Licking the jizz from her lips, Darcy said, “Let’s have that shower together, like you wanted.”

Chapter Fifteen Darcy came out of that shower clean from the hot water and soap, but dirtier than she’d ever been in her life. The things she would let Speed do to her, would herself suggest they do, would have made her feel mortified in the past. He left the bathroom and went to rustle up some food for the both of them. Apparently he enjoyed cooking, despite the fact that he rarely did so. Darcy decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and see what his idea of healthy food was. That gave her some time to think and go through her nightly beauty regime. There was something that had been bothering her. She couldn't reconcile herself with the emotions of it all yet. There were waves of unpleasant feelings, like she should feel guilty and as though she was doing something taboo. But there were waves, many more of this kind, that felt amazing. Such a new territory for her to find herself firmly in, and

too many new ways to think and feel about living. The good feelings didn’t ever go with those bad vibes that people sometimes looked for, at least that was what Darcy had believed up until recently. She had always figured that people did bad things because they wanted to feel bad. But if someone was enjoying something, bad or not, what did that mean? Maybe she was just turning into a bad girl and hadn't noticed it yet. Oh well, as long as she kept up with her training; that was the really important thing right now. “I’ve never loved having sex so much in my life,” she told Speed when she emerged from the bathroom. “You don’t have to convince me,” Speed replied, smug as always. He knew he was the best lay she’d ever had, and he wasn’t modest about that. “And we haven’t even got started yet. You want to try something? Just let me know, because I’m game for almost anything.”

It was nice to be able to talk to someone after such a shamelessly bad session of sex — bad in the nicest possible way. And it was great to be able to talk about the naughty sex with someone who didn't judge her, or try to make her feel inferior for being a woman who enjoyed it. Speed was a lot more complex and sophisticated than most people would ever give him credit for. Darcy had a towel wrapped around her hair, naked as the day she was born apart from that. Most athletes weren’t shy about their bodies. It was hard to keep much modesty when you were parading about in a skin-tight outfit, straining and pushing with every muscle in your body. She liked to keep some mystery in her relationships usually, maybe wear some tasteful lingerie or at least keep her underwear on if she was getting ready in front of a boyfriend. “For some messed up reason, I feel so comfortable with you,” she told Speed.

He was relaxing on her bed, just as naked as ever. His impressive package was resting on his leg, still partially inflated from their shower together. “I don’t see why you wouldn’t. I’m a pretty comforting guy. And why is that messed up? Because I'm a biker? I'm not clean-cut enough to impress certain types of people? You'd better be careful or I might start to take offence and get my feelings all hurt." “You’re certainly something different. I should really be bothered by that, sure. I mean…to be honest, it does bother me and I try not to think about it too much. There is also the fact that my sex life hasn’t exactly been exciting up until this point in my life. That’s probably why I stopped worrying about dating and began to focus on my riding one hundred percent.” She sat down on the bed next to him. Speed put his hand on her lower back and kneaded the taught flesh and skin with rugged fingers. Darcy

pushed against him and let out a low sigh, barely making any sound apart from the warm air leaving her lungs. It was like a purr. "You're just using me for my body, then," he joked. "Did I just detect a slight hint of disappointment, Speed? You're a big, tough MC president, don't forget. You can’t let yourself fall for some random chick on a bicycle, no matter how amazingly small her pores are." "Are you talking about that cream you've got all over your face? Well, okay, your pores are tiny. I guess it does smell nice, too, kind of like oranges." "It's a citrus blast, and that's a different product, not for the face. I can show you how to go through the routine if you like. It's all organic and revitalizing for your skin, no matter how old you are." "That sounds like it would be a lot of effort. I

figure I'll just be old and ugly one day. Hopefully I'll be so rich by then that it won't much matter." "Maybe I'll just wind up a nun or something," she said. "After my highly successful riding career is over, of course. That would be a hell of a lot easier than doing what it takes to stay alluring." “That’d be a real shame, wasting such a beautiful body, not to mention a filthy mind. Nuns don't have any fun, no matter what they try to lead you to believe in porn." “Stop it. You’re the dirty one in this relationship here, trust me. I’m just a very accommodating gal.” Oh, shit, she realized that she’d just referred to whatever they had as a ‘relationship.’ That was sure to scare him off. “So we’re dating now, are we? What would your parents say if they knew you were going steady with such a bad boy?”

“Well, I think my father would be impressed by the amount of money you can throw around. I doubt that it would totally distract him from the crimes that took place to get that money, but it would sure improve his opinion of you to some degree. My mother? She’d both hate and love you at the same time." "That sounds interesting. She a complex woman or something?" "Far from it, not as much as she knows anyway. I'm sure there are some incredibly deep things going on, but they're all way below the surface. No, the hatred would be openly shared, and the love would come every time she looked at those pretty eyes you have.” "Shucks," Speed said in a cutesy way. It didn't really suit him to act like that. Darcy might have even been a little put off by it. "You do tough a lot better than you do cute," she

said absent-mindedly. "I mean, never mind, that was a stupid thing to say. I'm just tired, I guess." "So I should act like a hardass when we're alone, and like a good boy when we need to impress a family member? Got it." "No, that's not what I mean. It doesn't matter anyway. You don't want to meet my parents anyway, not yet. I mean…maybe in the future after I've qualified and shown everyone that you're not the bad influence they think you are." Darcy closed her mouth. If she didn't know Speed was such a hard man, she might have been worried that she'd hurt his feelings with her transparency. Instead, he just shrugged it off and rubbed his fingers over her soft skin. It was amazing. “You’ve been giving this too much thought," he said. “What can I say? I think I’m addicted to your lovin’, baby.”

She laughed like a dope and Speed allowed himself to laugh a bit, too. It was a messed up relationship they had going on, but it felt more perfect than anything Darcy had ever had before. She was warm, safe, totally sexually satisfied beyond believe, and had a great career prospect as an extra special bonus. The only thing to do next was tackle the question of whether or not this was going anywhere more serious. There would be time for that, though. For now, it was a lovely arrangement. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, her hand on his crotch, his on her breast. What a twisted romance they had blooming, but also quite sweet in many ways.

Sleep was deep and welcomed for Darcy. She was completely drained, and couldn't have stayed away to enjoy the moment if she'd wanted to. Something woke her up not that long after, maybe a few hours,

judging from how much darker it was through the windows. There was that kind of still blackness that only came around with the midnight hour. That was a happy time for anyone who had been working hard through the day, and with many things to worry about, as well. It took some time before Darcy realized she was awake. She sat up a little and leaned over the bed to look for the switch for her bedside lamp. Her eyes had to adjust to the darkness, losing the blurry haze. That's when she realized there was a faint light coming from across the room on the dresser: Speed’s phone. That must have been what woke her up in the first place. Someone was trying to get in touch with him, though it might have been something as simple as an email, or just a status update coming through some app. She wasn’t about to start snooping around, not with a guy she was not even officially dating yet, and certainly not with a biker, not matter how sweet he treated her, outside the bedroom anyway. That was

the kind of thing crazy women did, the types who were super possessive and jealous. Darcy didn't have anything to be jealous about. If Speed wanted to talk to other women, that was his own deal. She didn't believe that thought in the slightest, but it helped to tell herself that she didn't care, as she approached the phone. The screen went black and suddenly it was difficult to walk across the room without losing her sense of position. She groped around, sure that the dresser must have been close enough to get to. She could feel her way to the light switch from there, as it was on the wall not far away. Then, another message came through, buzzing and lighting the screen up again. As such, all Darcy had to do was lean over a bit to see that the message had come from. That wasn't snooping, right? She was just looking, not touching, not prying. Darcy wished that she hadn't even gone that far when she saw who the message was from.

“What the fuck?” she said loudly. “Huh?” Speed stirred but rolled back over and began to breathe deeply again. The guy didn’t even snore, which was a bonus. But Darcy didn’t give a crap about that. She was furious and confused, and just hurt by what she'd seen on that phone screen. He’d just received a picture message from her best friend. The preview showed up with the notification on the phone's lock screen. There was Aubrey, standing almost side-on from the camera, pushing her tight little butt out. It was not the type of picture a person would send a friend’s guy, even if they did have a crush on them. And she'd sent several other messages in concession, as evidenced by the status bar at the top of the screen. It must have been all of that buzzing that had slowly roused Darcy from that deep, beautiful sleep. Funny how things would change like that, from good to bad; the real kind of bad, too, not the kinky bedroom variety that she was becoming familiar with lately.

She tried to rationalize why there was now a naked picture of Aubrey on Speed’s phone, and maybe a lot more already. But it only made Darcy see red. She quietly gathered a few things, and left without waking Speed. Once in her car, she sped off and made the wheels squeal. The light in her apartment came on just as she was turning the corner off her street. She hoped it was Speed waking and worrying about her, then looking at the message and knowing exactly how he just lost her forever. “Fucking bastard!” she yelled out as she drove off to a hotel nearby.

Chapter Sixteen Speed hadn't woken up fully when Darcy left during the night. Shit, he didn't even realize she was gone until the early morning. How was he meant to know she'd taken off? He didn't make any excuses for simply being asleep when something happened. That was out of his control, and he wasn't an asshole for failing to chase after her. Still, it was inconvenient that he didn't wake up and find out where the fuck she'd gone. The rest of the morning was spent trying to call her, or figure out where she might have gone. He didn't call her parents, since they probably had no idea who he was. Instead, he contacted Aubrey to see if she was willing to help sort out the mess she had created. "Hi, Speed," she said with eagerness that was on the border of being pathetic. "Did you like the

pictures I sent you? I'm sorry, but I had a few too many drinks and I—" "What are you drinking so much for? Aren't you still in training?" he said. He was mad at her, but he knew there was something going on in her mind that made her do these stupid things. He couldn't blame her, no matter how much he wanted to. And Darcy would have been even more upset if Aubrey did something to hurt herself, all because of something cruel he'd said to her. "You should be taking care of yourself. And as for those pictures, we really need to talk about that." "You liked them, didn't you?" she sounded honestly curious, as though she had no idea Speed was practically dating Darcy. He sat down and took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself to he wouldn't blow up and start yelling. "You know I'm with your friend, Darcy, don't you? I know you do, so why the hell are you sending me things like that?"

"Like I said, I'm sorry. I was drunk. It's not like I have anyone to cuddle up beside early at night. It gets lonely trying to be good and train hard. Does she know you're talking to me? Won't you get in trouble?" "It looks like I'm already in the shit with her. When I woke up this morning, she was gone. All I can guess is that she saw your little pictures on my phone and took off in a rage. I just hope she didn't do anything stupid. I mean, what would it have looked like from her point of view, Aubrey? You two are still friends, aren't you?" "We haven't been talking as much as we used to… not since the other day after we came to see you at the clubhouse." "What happened?" "I'm not talking about it with you." She sounded distant, in a disturbing way. It was like Aubrey had

just clicked over to a different state of mind in an instant. "Do you want me to talk to her?" "What? Yes, that would be nice. I really do care about your friend," Speed said. He didn't want to layer that part on too thick, and risk making Aubrey feel bad about not having him for herself. "I mean, I don't want to lose her already. We're not even an official thing yet." "I'll tell her you had nothing to do with it. Goodbye, Speed." "Okay, thanks," he said, but she'd already hung up the phone. What a weird chick, he thought. He spent the next hour trying to call Darcy, having exhausted the short list of other people who might be able to tell him where she was. “For fucksake!” Speed raged and threw his phone at the wall. He'd had enough at that point, and wasn't sure Aubrey was actually going to help. The

phone made a plastic crunching sound that was not a good sign. That must have been the twentieth time he’d tried to contact Darcy that day, and she still wouldn’t answer! He just knew that she was getting the calls through and seeing them. She long ago made a habit of being easy to get a hold of, in case a sponsor had wanted to call. So that could only mean she was sitting there and ignoring his calls, not even bothering to reject them so he knew she was, in fact, there, and safe. She might have had a car crash for all he knew. But that would have been reported to the police, and maybe ended up on the news. Surely someone would have told him about it by now, if anything bad had happened. He stopped letting his imagination get carried away and looked over at the floor, where his phone had bounced off the wall and landed. “Piece of crap,” he said, wondering how they had the nerve to charge so much money for something that was designed to fall apart the first time it took a hit. They didn't make things like they used to.

That was the problem with the world these days, and he didn't give a shit if it made him seem like an old man to think that. "The world is in for a bad time if everything's as weak as you," he said to the fractured phone as he scooped it up off the floor. Thinking about the pictures of Aubrey that were still on there made him madder. Yeah, he'd looked at them, but he didn't realize they were even there when he woke up and checked his phone. He'd seen the sent messages from her, wondered why the fuck there were naked pictures of her along with them, and then instantly put two and two together. That equation led to Darcy being out there somewhere, probably wishing she'd never even met Speed. He didn't mind taking the heat for something he had actually done, if he was stupid enough to get himself caught. Speed had even let himself get blamed for things he'd had nothing to do with. Those times, he was doing it to help a friend or protect something. But he would not stand by and

be blamed for something he did not do, when he wanted so desperately for the world to know he was innocent. He tightened his grip around the already busted up phone, and it started to contract within his powerful fingers. It crumbled and twisted, making a satisfying noise as well. He knew the pictures were still out there on Aubrey’s phone, maybe on that fucking cloud. He didn’t know how it was all connected. Speed was one of those rare people who actually used a phone for making and receiving calls, and contacted people. He wasn't into computers and the web, had far too many things to take care of to waste time sitting on his ass and staring a screen all day. Yeah, the pictures might be out there permanently, but at least he felt like he’d destroyed it. It didn't make sense to want them gone, since they weren't incriminating in their own right. And, no, he didn’t mean any harm to Aubrey herself. It was clear to anyone who knew her, the chick was messed up in the head. That certainly wasn’t her own fault, but

this whole thing was really putting a spanner in the works. To make things worse, now he wouldn’t know if Darcy tried to call him. “Fuck!” he yelled and kicked a chair. It spun around and crashed into the wall. He’d have to repair the mark it made, he knew that. He wasn’t out to permanently damage Darcy’s apartment. But he was damn pissed off, and needed to do something to calm himself. The first thing he could think of was getting a fresh piece of pussy. Some twenty-one-year-old with tits bigger than his head, yeah, that’d be perfect. A nice round butt, too, pick up something he could sink completely himself into and forget about all this relationship-type crap. He rode down to a bar that was usually packed with people, day and night. But he just couldn’t bring himself to pull over and go in. Even just to grab a drink, if the temptation was there. He didn’t think he’d be able to pick up another woman anyway. No, there was no way he could get

Darcy’s sexy hooks out of him that easily. He cursed again and headed to The Wild Card’s clubhouse. He figured doing some work on his bike there would take his mind off things. He loved that machine so much; taking care of it gave him a special kind of calm. He liked to imagine that’s what it was like for people who had close family to care for, or a special mission they needed to carry out. The moment he pulled up, one of his boys, Larry the Bastard they called him, came running out the door to the fenced off parking area. “Speed, we got news earlier today, been trying to call you, your chick…” He was out of breath just from running across the property. “Shit, you gotta stop smoking two packs a day, Larry.” “I’m down to one, boss.” He breathed in deeply

for a bit while Speed got off his bike. “Come on, is this important or what?” “Yeah, sorry, just,” he breathed a bit more and seemed to recover himself. Something was up, and that was making the guy’s breathing even worse than usual. “Okay…It’s Darcy. We got in a rumor that another club’s making plans to fuck up her race this weekend.” “What? Fuck them! Okay, Larry, take a minute to get yourself together — and stop smoking so much, seriously. You’re no good if you can barely run fifty feet.” Speed went into his office, giving his secretary the order to get him a new mobile phone. This was not good. Without any information about who or what was going down, all they could really do was be on look out. That was, unless they could dig up some more information about the thing. He didn’t like to go crawling back to a woman, no matter how pissed off she was with him, or what

he’d done. Shit, even if he’d fucked Aubrey in the ass right in front of Darcy and her mother, Speed would not have come groveling like a little bitch. This was different, though; Darcy’s actual life might have been in danger. If there was one thing Speed was dedicated to doing, it was ensuring the safety of his woman. Since it looked like Darcy was definitely his girlfriend now, he had a duty to make sure no one messed with her. It was a matter of his own pride as much as anything. No one fucked with Speed’s pride, and no one touched his woman. “Here’s that phone you wanted, sexy,” said Francine. “You look awful tense, boss. Hey, you want me to suck you off under your desk while you’re working? I’ll keep out of your way.” “As tempting as that is, how pissed off I am, no thanks.” “Oh, you dating that cyclist now? How cute,” she

said with a forced smile, almost mocking him. Speed didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. If he wanted to get himself a girlfriend, that’s what he was going to do. “Get back to work,” he said, ignoring the remark. He powered the phone on and entered Darcy’s number. He always memorized important information – didn’t rely on electronics or writing shit down. You couldn’t write most things down in the business he was in anyway. And he wasn't in the habit of carrying a paper and pen around with him either. "You have about ten seconds to tell me what the hell you want," said Darcy. “Finally!” he said when she actually answered. “This is important, Darcy.” “You bet it is! I’d love to know how you’re going to explain that—“ “Shut up, would you?”

“What? Okay, bye then.” “Please, wait!” He felt like a little boy apologizing to teacher for being bad, tried to put all the sincere regret he could into his voice. It was a humbling experience for a guy like Speed, especially when he knew he wasn't in the wrong here. "You think good manners will get you out of this?" “I did not have anything to do with what Aubrey sent! "Yeah, that's what she told me, as well. I don't exactly believe her, but I'm willing to hear you out, thanks to her." "Good. But we have to talk about something else first — this might be life or death.” “What’s wrong? No, no, what’s happened now?”

“Where are you?” Speed said with a level tone, trying to calm her with his own confidence. “I’m training in the usual spot. Come meet me.”

Chapter Seventeen Darcy had gone out to the same canyon where Speed had roughed up Steve for pushing her. It had been a fateful day, and she would have preferred not to come back to that exact location. But it was the best place to train. There was a perfect amount of inclination, not a lot of cars went down that part during the day, and she knew that training in that high altitude would give her an edge over her competition. At least, it would help prevent her from being at a disadvantage to other people who were training up in mountains and the like. Something about training made her feel energetic, pumped, like everything’s going to be okay. That’s probably why she decided to finally cut Speed some slack and answer his call. That, and he’d suddenly stopped trying to call her for a while, and was getting worried he had given up.

Still, seeing what she'd seen on Speed's phone was, like it wasn't even a big deal to him and he had not even bothered to hide his communications from her. That was too much for her to handle. He could have had the decency to hide his phone, or use a secondary one for his little affairs. Like that would have made it any better. She'd gotten out of there and sped off until she hit the highway. Out there she was able to act like she did during a race. She'd taken her car to some dangerous speeds, and was probably lucky there weren't any cops out there at that hour. Getting a ticket would not have looked good to her fans, who expected their athlete heroes to be clean, sober, and morally pious. What a load of shit…Darcy couldn't see the point in staying on the straight and narrow, not if it just meant getting hurt by people who did whatever they wanted. She took a drink of cool water from her bottle and toweled off the sweat she'd accumulated on her first run. She was taught to train without anyone to support her. Keeping pace when you were all alone was not easy and she

needed to moral support, too. It was such a cheesy representation of how she felt that it could have been in a bad romance movie. "This is bullshit," she told herself, starting to take her bike back to her car. She wasn't in the mood for training, and there was no one to make her keep going that day. Yeah, she'd be back on the road the next day. Right now, it was time to do some serious binge eating and maybe have some vodka and lemon drinks. It was time to admit defeat for the day. Not even training was going to fix things and make everything seem right. She had just loaded the bike up into her car. It barely fit, but Steve was the one who had a van. "What the hell do you want?" she said, assuming that something had to be wrong, or Aubrey wouldn't have called her at all. "You're the last person I want to talk to right now. Maybe one day in the future I'll be ready, but not now." "Wait, Darcy!" Aubrey proceeded to tell her what

had happened. She felt horrible, like she had just lost control and done that terrible thing. "I swear I wasn't myself when I did it. I know things have been rough between us, but I don't want you to blame Speed for this. He's a wonderful guy." That sounded odd, and something wasn't quite right. "I don't know what to believe," Darcy said. "So you think we've been having an affair or something?" snapped Aubrey. "If I wanted him, I wouldn't need to sneak around behind your back. They were just some harmless pictures. Get over yourself." "What? Are you okay?" Darcy asked. "See you around," Aubrey said and then she hung up. That was bizarre, but Darcy wasn't in the mood to try to figure out what was going on with her friend, if they were even friends anymore. A screw was

loose in Aubrey's head. That had been obvious for a long time. It just didn't seem to have much of an effect up until recently. That girl needed to get some help before she wound up alienating everyone she knew. To make things more complicated, Speed called next. Darcy answered this time and they spoke about what was going on. After she was through talking to him, Darcy waiting for Speed to come and meet her as they'd planned. She leaned against the car and tried to calm herself by taking in the ambience of the surrounding nature. The mountains were a peaceful place, enveloping her with serenity. They could go from being exciting, when she was racing through them on the road, to still and at ease. It would be nice to have a place out in the mountains, even a vacation house. Just getting away from the rush and chatter of the city would be good. Having someone to spend the time out there would be nice. She wondered if her new relationship was already

over. That would be up to her, most likely. That all depended whether Speed was telling the truth. Darcy would never stay with a man who cheated on her, not for even one day after she found out. She could understand why some women felt the need to try to patch things up, but she just couldn't do that to herself. Finally, there was the sound of a roaring motorbike, the big hog that Speed rode. It meant she didn't need to keep going around in circles with her thoughts. Resolving this might be difficult, but at least it would be over with one way or another. She saw him ride up and get off his bike quickly. There was a sense of emergency to the way he moved. Something bad must have been up, but that didn't mean he was getting out of this so easily. Maybe he'd been making it all up and just trying to distract her from what had happened.

Darcy stayed leaning up against the car, not wanting to seem eager to see Speed. Hell, she should have been furious. She took in a deep breath and told herself to get angry, to not let him get away with this kind of shit. But what if he was telling the truth? Ruining what they had over a misunderstanding would have been heartbreaking in its own right. And the truth was, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and let herself feel safe in his arms, but fought the urge. Let him grovel, she told herself. “Darcy, look…” he said as he approached and realized that she was still pissed off. “Aubrey’s a disturbed young lady. I know you know that. But there are some things you never did find out. I guess we should go someplace and talk about it.” "You can tell me what you have to say right here. I'm not going anywhere with you, Speed." That made his face droop instantly. The guy was clearly upset. "Tell me she isn't fucked in the head,

Darcy. I know you're friends, or you were before I got in between you. But can you honestly say she wouldn't do something like this?" "No…and to be honest, I don't think you're the type of ask for naked pictures. You're the type to up and fuck her instead. So, have you been doing that? Have you two been seeing each other all along?" "Of course not! I'm sorry if you think that, and I'm sorry you're so upset. I'm not the one at fault here, but I don't care. I'm sorry anyway, because I'm genuinely worried about losing you. I'm scared to lose you, Darcy. Please don't throw this away because Aubrey's gone a little crazy." Wow, he was actually being apologetic. It looked like Darcy had gotten under his skin more than he’d been letting on this whole time. Nothing like the fear of losing a woman to make a man show his softer side. Standing up straight now, surprised by what she'd just heard come out of Speed's mouth, Darcy wasn't sure what to say.

"Do you really mean that?" "I may be a criminal, but I'm not a liar. Tell me you think otherwise." "I can't…Okay, Speed, I believe you. But I don't want to find out you've been playing me." Speed ran up to her and took her in his arms. He kissed her but only briefly. There was something else in his eyes that showed he was still worried. "I'm a very happy man, but I need to talk to you about something else — now." Speed told her all about the loan sharks and Aubrey’s brother, and how that had led to her throwing the race to Darcy. “That makes a lot of sense,” said Darcy. “I figured this was about money. I just didn’t realize Aubrey and her brother were the ones who needed help. If she would have just told me, I don’t know, maybe I could have helped her.”

“What her brother needed was cash, a lot of it, fast. Maybe she didn’t want to worry you and make you lose the race.” “Maybe…so, do you think I’ve forgotten about that picture? You’re still in hot water.” She thought about that first time together in the hot tub, but pushed the imagery to the back of her mind. He wasn’t getting out of this so easy. “She’s been obsessed with me since we first met. Believe me, I didn’t do anything about it. I don’t mess around with women who have issues like that. I could tell right away there was something troubling her. I don’t need that kind of hassle in my life.” “Sure it’s not because deep down there’s a nice guy fighting against the complete bastard you show to the rest of the world?” “If you want to believe I’m that simple, it’s your

mistake, sweetheart.” “Okay, say I do believe you, but I want evidence? You got her messages in your phone?” “No…I smashed it earlier today.” “A little rage at being ignored? You have been bad, haven’t you?” Darcy liked how the tables were turned and she was being the dominant one for a change. That probably wouldn’t last long, at least not once they got naked together again. She just loved giving up control to Speed. “You could say that. I do have some instant messages she sent online.” “Good. I’ll want to see those. For now, I forgive you, since I guess you didn’t actually do anything.” “There goes your power trip,” Speed said. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Darcy nodded, and grabbed his crotch over his jeans. “I think now it’s your turn to take charge, wouldn’t you say? I saw that cheap motel on the side of the road back before the canyon mouth. How about we have some fun?” “Don’t you have to train?” “Oh, I’ll be training after. Will you help me keep pace again?”

He would help her out, but not before they went to that roadside motel. They had to load the cycle up in her hatchback first, and they drove separately to the motel. Darcy went and booked a room for the house. She felt good knowing the old lady behind the counter could tell the room would be used for sex, kind of kinky. “So, now that you’ve been so kind to give me back control, I think it’s time for you to show me how much you can take,” Speed said once they were

alone in the room. “Yes, sir!” she said, throwing her clothes off. “I’m yours, baby. Use me.” Speed pushed her down onto the floor, face first. It was a bit musky, and she imagined how many others had done it right in that spot. The carpet chafed her nipples as Speed got on top of her and slid his dick inside her pussy. “I’ve got my own training session for you. You’re the bicycle.” He pushed her face down into the plush carpet, which muffled her moans. It hurt, but in a good way. He crouched down over her and bounced up and down, pile driving himself into her. He pressed down deep and flooded cum into her. “You’re lucky I like you,” he said, slapping her ass hard and standing up. “Otherwise, I would have done that hard.”

“Maybe next time?” Darcy said, recovering from the aggressive sex, picking herself up. She had marks from the carpet on her, and a few rug burns. She smiled and winked at Speed, because she had never felt so good. She’d spend her adult life in control of everything, training, trying to be the best. It felt nice to just let someone else tell her what to do, use her as they wished. “I finally understand why women let guys use their bodies like that,” she said. “It feels so good to be bad.” "It feels good to be with you," Speed added.

Chapter Eighteen Speed had no idea how Darcy could take a thrashing that would leave most women unable to walk, and then still go training. Sure, she was sore for a while after, but seemed to honestly love every second of the time they’d spend in that shitty motel room. It was like a short vacation, and they both needed the time to rest and get away from everyone. "Being with you does something to me I can't explain. I don't know what kind of crazy voodoo you've got going on behind those bright eyes," Darcy said. "Believe me, I know what you mean. No woman's ever had me by balls like this before." "What? Oh, you mean metaphorically? Hey, that's kind of sweet if you ignore the vulgar image." She

kissed him. The hot sex seemed to make Darcy more energetic, too. She’d told him she rode better after they fucked, and it looked like as much was true. If things kept going that well, she was sure to qualify for the Tour de France. After that, even if she didn't do so well in the big race, just having made it was bound to boost her career. And if she actually won the Tour? The sky was the limit. Speed planned to be along for the entire ride, by her side and making sure that she was well taken care of. "I don't know how you find so much energy," he said to her. Although, once they finished the training, Darcy admitted that she was pretty worn out, in more ways than one. “Do you think I could just head home and get an early night?” she said when they were packing her cycle into her car. “You’ve definitely earned the time to yourself,”

Speed said. “I’ll admit I might miss you. You happy now?” He still tried to keep all the gooey bullshit to a minimum, but it was getting more difficult every day. He hoped this wasn’t how some bikers turned soft, letting a hot piece of ass wear them down. It happened more often than normal people would know. They'd find a woman who "completed" them and lose their taste for blood, for keeping their head in the fucking game. It was only a matter of time before the criminal world caught up to them and made them meat. The smart ones got out of the life before they went completely soft. If they had enough associates who were loyal to them, it wasn't too hard to do. Speed wondered if that's where he was headed: giving up the good life of an MC president so he could get married and start spawning children like every other moron. It was a sickening thought, but somehow it also seemed like a heavily approaching reality. Darcy was making him into a

softie, no matter what he did. It seemed to make her happy to be with him, and that was nice. He didn't care how soft he might have been going, as long as she was happy. Yep, that was how it happened… “Am I happy? Yes!” she said, hugging and kissing him romantically. It felt pretty nice to have someone look at him that way. It wasn’t just in the ‘I want your dick’ way either, which felt fucking amazing in its own right. Sure, Darcy did do that—a lot. But she also looked at him like doing so made her feel all warm and happy inside. He didn’t want to admit it, but that’s the way he’d been feeling lately when he was with her, and even when they were apart and he thought about her. It worried him to feel so vulnerable, and on more than one occasion, Speed had seriously thought about ending it with her. There was just no way he could actually bring himself to do that. Besides, none of his boys seemed to have a

problem if their leader had a steady chick, so he figured it didn’t matter. Aubrey’s brother was in it deep again, he found out after getting back to The Wild Cards’ clubhouse. “You’re shitting me,” he said when Mash had told him. Mash was as loyal as they came, and he loved a good whiskey almost as much as he loved fist fighting – hence the nickname. “Okay, tell those greedy loan sharks I’ll have their money for them in no time. Just don’t go mouthin’ off about this. I don’t want our rider to get put off and lose any races.” “Don’t worry, Speed. I got this.” “No, I’ll take care of it. Darcy’s my woman. Just make sure it stays quiet.” “There’s more, though,” added Mash. He was a big sonofabitch, taller than Speed. He was a lot fatter, too, but there was so much muscle holding the extra weight up; it only made him look ever

scarier. Yeah, he loved to fist fight, but he hardly ever got a chance to do it these days. Everyone who knew the club knew not to get in a fight with Mash, not without a weapon. Speed had to look up to talk to him. “What now?” “Gill saw that other rider, the smaller one with that tight ass you just wanna eat. She was training with that older bastard you warned off, used to be Darcy’s trainer.” “You mean Aubrey, and Steve?” “Yep. They were training together, and they were acting like they’d been screwing each other. Grabbin’ her ass, gettin’ up there, too, like she was his puppet. Dirty old cunt.” Mash smiled while giving the details. That was just the kind of thing he would have enjoyed doing. “You jealous?” said Speed.

“Yeah, I am actually…We done, boss? I wanna go get my dick sucked.” Speed sat in his office alone after Mash left. He couldn’t believe Aubrey would go for that exmilitary douche bag. He was maybe fifteen years older than her, which wasn’t the problem. The guy was just such a dickhead – the type of person Speed had clashed with his whole life. He hated authority types, and Steve was just that sort of asshole. Aubrey would have been easy to seduce, but the guy must’ve been up to something. Sure, Speed didn’t blame Steve for wanted to do a hot young thing like Aubrey. But if he wanted to train her, why not do so while training Darcy? Why not try to fuck her earlier? This was all smelling as fishy as a two-dollar whore on a Sunday morning. The whole thing looked bad, and now was not the time to be getting side-tracked by the drama. The qualifying race was coming up soon, with just one more race to go before that. They needed to keep

their focus, especially Darcy. Speed would have to take care of everything else and give her the freedom to do her thing and race like her life depended on it.

Chapter Nineteen That weekend was the big race, the only one left before the qualifying race. It was taking place a little ways out of Las Vegas. It seemed like an odd place to have a race, since there wasn't much but dirt and the wind out there. Inside the actual city was where the action was, which must have been the driving force behind the decision to host the race there. Las Vegas, what a place to visit. Darcy had always hoped she’d get to go there, but it wasn’t like there was much time for smelling the roses since she'd started racing when she was a teenager. She hadn’t taken much time to explore the world and see the sights. She'd travelled around the country a fair amount, but it was always for races. There wasn't time for anything but training, riding, packing, unpacking, trying to win, possibly dealing with losses. At least Aubrey was usually there with her.

She was at this race, too, but not in a friendly capacity – just another rival. The race was taking place on a particularly warm day, in the heat of the desert. Maybe that was why they were holding it out there: a great way to separate the children from the real competitors would be to see how much they could sweat before they dropped. Darcy was already sweating before she'd even begun her warm up. It was a necessity to keep her fluid levels higher than normal, to make up for the moisture lost through perspiration. Speed was a champion in that way, ensuring she always had a cold drink to sip at when she needed one, or some ice to put on her head to take off the edge. It wasn't even that hot, not by the standards of some countries. Maybe the pressure was getting to her, as well, making her feel worn out and hot. Either way, Darcy hoped that one day this would all be behind her, and she’d be competing in cooler places, in Europe and the like. There was no stopping a rider who won the Tour, and she kept

her mind focused on going after that esteemed honor. There was no stopping her, period. Once they were off, things seemed to cool down. The moving air that raced by them worked against the sweat and brought Darcy's temperature down, at least at first. It didn't take long for her to heat back up, though. All of the riders were clearly having a harder time than usual, and it most likely had something to do with the beating down sun. There were also the buffeting winds out there in the desert, making it tough to keep momentum going straight. It was a true test of who deserved to go through to the final qualifying round, and who was only fit to be sent home with their tail between their legs. Darcy had been preparing for the heat, and working herself extra hard. Always training up in the mountains meant that her cardio was top notch, and she was able to keep her breathing steady even under the brutal sun. Once they were on the track, that was paying off big time. She took the front of

the entire group, and felt like there was nothing that could stop her. Lately things had been going so well, and all that positive energy was converting into racing power. There was barely any question about who would win. Darcy was a gun during that race. She was full bike length ahead of Aubrey, only she’d earned it all by herself this time. The two women put all they had into it, but Darcy just had something more. She had the power of her blooming romance, and the heat in their bedroom, and knowing that everything was there for her to take. Unfortunately for Aubrey, she had none of those things, however sad that was. Darcy did have to admit that, in end, it was a close race, with Aubrey not the only person giving Darcy a hard time on the pedals. For a while, she fell back into third place, and it seemed like all of her hard work had been completely wasted. Maybe she’d been spending too much time messing around with Speed and the motorcycle club, and not

enough time actually training. But her relationship with Speed only looked bad on paper. In reality, it motivated her to keep trying, to work harder, to be her best. She was still living the clean life, and Speed supported her there. Hell, some days he didn’t even drink, and that was a really big deal for him. Their passion gave her fuel to burn when she put her butt on that bicycle seat. No amount of disapproving looks or mumbled gossiping could take away the facts: Darcy and Speed were the perfect combination. No, no! That was what she kept telling herself every time it looked like someone else was going to get ahead of her. Soon enough, she’d gotten back to second place, tying closely with Aubrey once again. This time, however, Darcy got ahead of her longtime friend. And this time, she did it all on her own. First place! It was a great feeling, even

though it felt bad to have been up against Aubrey as an enemy, and not in a friendly capacity. "You're the best!" yelled Speed as Darcy accepted first place. Aubrey was beside her, second place yet again. This time there had been no sort of meddling, and Darcy had earned it herself one hundred percent. But there was almost a cold breeze coming from Aubrey, with the icy glare that she shot at Darcy sideways. That was the only time she made eye contact with her the whole day. None of it made any sense. They were relatively civil over the phone earlier in the week, when Aubrey had called to clear things up. And then there was that sudden mood change, before she'd hung up the phone and not called again. Darcy went to say something to her, but then withdrew. What was she going to say? It was clear her ex-friend hated her.

Darcy hadn’t realized who Aubrey’s new coach was until after the race was over either. That worked in her favor, because it would have been an upsetting distraction. She walked away from the winners stand and right up to Speed. "That's who he's coaching now?" said Speed behind Darcy. He'd walked over while she was lost staring at Aubrey and Steve. "Fucking hell, that's not going to end well at all. Are you all right, sweetheart?" "Sure…" she said. Just then, Steve glanced in her direction and gave her a little smile, a harsh one at that. Then, his face went cold and he seemed like he hated her, too. Maybe she should have let Speed kick the guy's ass, just to teach him a lesson about loyalty and respect. She was thinking like a biker now, but it didn't bother her. They didn't seem nearly as bad as a lot of other people. The real difference was that bikers were honest about who they were, and

didn't try to act like they were better than everyone. That was how Speed was, anyway. It all seemed like it wasn’t real: Aubrey ignoring her, practically hating her, Steve looking at her with resentment. And he was coaching her now. Worse, still, it was painfully clear that the two were together in another way. That made Darcy feel sick to her stomach, and she wondered what kind of crazy stuff had gone down for that arrangement to come about. Sure, they might have been a genuine couple, but it was more likely that someone was out to get something. She really didn’t want that thing to be revenge. There had been no sign of trouble either, so that rumor was either an empty threat, or just hearsay. One other good thing came out of it all: she really didn’t miss having Steve as a coach. “The guy was always a loser,” said Speed, his arm around her shoulder. He’d brought out a bottle of sparkling wine to pop as celebration for her

victory. As he put it, “None of that French shit for us.” “You’re going to be heavily into that ‘French shit’ if you want to come with me to the Tour de France, baby,” was Darcy’s reply for that. They both watched Aubrey with Steve through the crowd of people milling about after the race. It seemed like the reporters were particularly interested in the fact that Darcy’s old coach was now training Aubrey, her once best friend, now seemingly her enemy. “How the fuck do you guys come up with this crap?” Speed had said to a sports journalist from a Las Vegas newspaper. “Why don’t you try reporting the actual race? Darcy was amazing!” But they just kept trying to dig up juicy gossip, and Darcy wanted as much press as she could get. That meant putting up with the insensitive questions about their personal life. At least they didn’t have

anything bad to say about Darcy and Speed’s relationship, or The Wild Cards. The sponsorship deal was really doing wonders for their reputation. There was one question that every reporter asked Darcy, which she loved: they all wanted to know how she felt about her plans for the Tour de France qualifying race. “Like you said,” she replied to one of them, “one more race, and I finally get my shot at the big one.” “How do you like your chances, especially now that you’re in such strong competition with Aubrey?” “I’m going to make it my race.”

Chapter Twenty Speed was happy as far as business went during the race. Yeah, he was pissed off about what was going on with Darcy's old friend and coach. However, there was no signs of trouble from anyone, not the loan sharks, not any rival MC. Maybe they were just talking shit to try to scare everyone. They might have been waiting to make their move and decided against it. Who knew? These were some unstable people, and that kind of person made stupid decisions, and tended to change their mind a lot. He'd gotten sick of the ridiculous questions they were asking Darcy. She was used to it, seemed to enjoy the attention. Who could blame her? She deserved to be fussed over and admired by as many people as possible. It was when they started to ask personal questions about shit that had nothing to do with racing that Speed started to get

mad at them. He wanted to tell them to mind their own business and to watch their fucking manners. That kind of thing was not going to look good. It would ruin the progress Darcy was helping his club make, as well, if the public saw their president getting into a fight with a smart mouthed journalist. A lot of them were more interested in what was going on with Aubrey, Darcy, and Steve. The more someone in the spotlight was going through a hard time, the happier these people seemed to be. It was disgusting; and society called Speed a low life. At least he didn't make his living by rejoicing in the suffering of others. He committed crimes, and he made a lot of money while doing so, but he didn't go around acting like he was saving the world. He decided to move away and let Darcy finish the interviews without his presence. He didn't mind being as far away from the spotlight as possible. Speed had never gotten into the whole biker thing so people would know his name. He'd changed that

name for a reason: he wanted to be anonymous and live by his actions, not by other people's ideas about who he was. That was some philosophical shit that his boys would never want to talk about, but that was their loss. There was time to stand there and think about what had happened, as well, while Darcy was doing her media frenzy and answering all the journalist's questions about the race. Darcy finally started to walk over to where he was standing. He'd found a nice spot that was on a raised bit of ground, where he could see the entire crowd. It was a good place to make sure no one was going to try anything, even though the race was over. She walked up to him and said, "Is this your lookout spot?" "Sure is." He put his arm around her and drew her tight. "You're like a noble eagle, watching out for his

little chicks." Darcy laughed but without much energy. It had been a hard day. "I guess that makes you my chick, doesn't it?" "What do you mean? You wanna be my man?" "I think we're already passed that stage. Should we make this official? What do you say, will you be my girlfriend, Darcy?" "Yes! Now I'm going to have to tell my other fellas that I've got a steady man, and I can't see them anymore." "You're as funny as you are skilled at riding. Are you finished with your interviews?" He’d been thinking about doing something special for Darcy if she won the race. After they’d finally gotten away from those vulture pricks and their questions, they moved through the thinning crowd and saddled up on Speed’s bike.

His boys were taking care of Darcy’s equipment now, with a van for her bike and everything else she needed for races. “Sweetheart, I want to buy you a tattoo.” “What? One with my name on it or something? You sure about that?” “Hell no, you never get a woman’s name or face tattooed on you. That’s just common sense. No, I think you should get your first tat, if you want to I mean.” He was having trouble getting the words out like he’d been planning. “Shit, this was meant to be special. If you don’t want to—“ “I think that’s a lovely idea, Speed. I’m just not into the idea of being stabbed thousands of times by a sharp needle.” “I won’t pretend it doesn’t hurt. It’s really not that bad. The worst part’s in people’s heads, and I know you can work through that, no problems. I

know that you'll be able to handle it, no problem. And you might get lucky after all; it doesn't hurt much for some people." “Well, if I did get a tattoo, it would have to be something to do with cycling.” “No doubt.” “And I’ve always loved pink elephants, ever since I first saw them in that old cartoon movie,” she said with a girlish grin. Speed pretended he’d never seen it, though he used to love that movie as a boy. “That sounds like a good idea, then,” was all he said. “Have you given this any thought before? Sounds like you had this planned out already.” “Everyone has their first tattoo planned out. A lot of people just don’t end up following through with it. You think I’d end up dating a biker if I hated them? Yeah right…”

“You’re a regular bad ass now, aren’t you? Well, you haven’t even felt the first line yet. Give it time.” He did a sinister laugh, in good fun. “Stop it,” she said. “If this hurts too much for me to handle, I’ll bite your dick off!” “You can’t bite through pure steel, sweetheart.”

Speed drove her back into Las Vegas, where they had a fancy hotel room booked. Along the strip was a place that was known far and wide for having some of the best tattoos in the country, even in the world. It was called “Las Tats.” “Not the most inventive name for a tattoo joint,” Darcy said as they walked up the strip, crowded with all sorts of people, toward the parlor. “Trust me, these people do quality work. My boy Gill works here on the side, when he’s in town.

These people did some of my work for me.” “Hey, Speed, what’s up, man?” said a woman with more metal in her face than she had teeth. She had been reading a magazine about bikes and titties when they walked in. “You looking for some more work?” “Yeah, but it’s for my girl here. Darcy, meet Liz.” “Nice, she’s sexy,” said Liz. “Did you want me to work on her for you?” “Fuck that, you’ll end up working on more than just her tattoo, you dyke. Besides, she wants something a bit too cute for your style. Is Bill here?” Bill was there. He looked like more of a biker than any of the bikers Speed knew, but the guy had the soul of an artist. Besides that, he was great at doing sickeningly cute tattoos that teenie boppers always came in asking for. And Bill loved when they asked for work done in private areas.

“A pink elephant riding a motorbike?” asked Bill. “No, a bicycle. Like this one,” Darcy said. She had a photo of her own cycle on her phone. “This is the one that I’m going to use to win the Tour de France, so I want to remember it forever. The elephant, well, I just like them.” “Shit, takes guts to get a tattoo to remember a race you haven’t even won yet. I respect that. So, where do you want it?” “On the back of my left hand. I want to look at it while I’m riding and remember that I’m going to win.” Darcy didn’t say that much while she was being tattooed. It wasn’t unusual for someone to feel nothing from their first tattoo. It was lucky, though. But Speed couldn’t help feel that Darcy had been thinking things through too much since the race had ended. That was one of the reasons he wanted to

take her to get a tattoo then, to take her mind of things. It didn’t seem to have worked quite like he was hoping. Still, the tat was looking great.

They drove out to the edge of the city, where they could see the lights of the neon monster as the sun was going down. But they could also see the ever expanding desert as the blues and yellows of the day blended gradually into the black and dark blue of the night. "This is so pretty," Darcy said. "It's a nice spot, isn't it?" Speed replied. He looked over at his woman, but realized that she wasn't looking at the scenery. She was checking out her tattoo. She'd peeled back the bandaging to see it. "Oh, you mean your tat. You really like it?"

"It's such a sweet thing, and I know how much it must mean to you. I, you don't know how long I've wanted to make this a real thing." "It's been real all along since the first second I saw you, sweetheart. We just weren't smart enough to say it out loud. But I don't care. I don't regret waiting until it was a sure thing." "Nothing's sure…even with people who you thought were like family." Darcy drooped her head and replaced the sticky bandaging back over her pink elephant cyclist. "I wish I could correct you there. But you're my girlfriend now, and that means I'm going to stand by you until the end. I'm not the kind of man to take a commitment lightly. As far as I'm concerned, this is a commitment. That tattoo represents something special to you, in your riding, but it also means something else to me. It's permanent, and that's how I want us to be, whatever happens."

Darcy was starting to cry, with a big smile on her face, too. "You're such a hopeless romantic, Speed. I bet you never even knew it before now. I love you…" She waited for him to say it back to her. He knew she was worried that he wasn't going to, despite what he’d just told her. He drew in a big breath and said back to her, "I love you, too, Darcy." They kissed and stayed under the stars for hours, enjoying being together.

Chapter Twenty One Months passed and things had not slowed down between Speed and Darcy. They'd had a lot of sex and pushed harder than ever for Darcy to be at the peak of her performance. With everything going on, she'd discovered a side of herself that had never existed before. Or, as Speed like to suggest, maybe it had been there all along but she'd just been ignoring it. "You've got to feed that wild child inside of you or it will wither away and die," he told her on one occasion. Darcy thought he was just trying to sound cool and edgy, despite knowing him better than that. Later, she started to realize that it was a good way to live and not just a pointless saying. When people stop allowing that fun and daring person they used to be come out and play, that's the day they start to grow old. The next step is to lose the love of life and wonder just what the point of it all is. There might

not be a point to life, but you can never lose your inner child. Wow, thought Darcy. She could still barely believe that wonderful night, the singular most fantastic moment, when she and Speed had declared their love for each other. It seemed silly to think about it later. They'd been seeing each other for how long already? A matter of months, and together all the time. Before that moment, they didn't even make it official that they were dating. From an outside perspective, maybe they'd been together the whole time. It seemed safer for each of them to just keep the actual words from being spoken, as though they were making it a secret that they had already launched headlong into a deep and dangerous romance. She'd catch herself staring off into space sometimes, wondering how long she'd been caught up with all the good vibes that she was experiencing these days. Even with the shit that'd gone down with Aubrey, things were still looking

up. The words didn't change anything really. I love you was a special thing to hear from someone. It was even more special to honestly say it to another person who felt the same way. But that was where Darcy was in her relationship with Speed, the hot MC president who seemed to have a heart of gold. Even if it were buried beneath a hard mountain of muscle, covered with every type of intimidating tattoo under the sun, he was her guy, and she was his gal.

"I love you," Speed said to her as they were concluding a phone call. "I love you more," Darcy replied. She knew he didn't like all that "sickening" mushy stuff that too many couples did when they were still in the passionate throes of a new relationship. It made her smile to think of the hulking, tough-as-nails biker getting involved in such things. And it made

her feel all the more special to know she was the target of such affections. "It's not a competition, is it? We know how we feel." He had a very diplomatic way of getting out of full-frontal displays of that kind of affection. Darcy didn't care, though, because he did and said so many other things that truly proved how he felt. Any joker could tell another person anything under the sun, and it would sound so sweet. You could buy a greeting card that had all that stuff inside. It was through actions that a person really expressed how they felt about their partner. Speed was dedicated to making Darcy's life much better, and supporting her in more ways than she could have ever imagined. That's how she knew that the big biker was all mushy for her. "I know you lovey-wove-wove me," she said in a baby voice. "Yes, of course I do. You really get a kick out of this, don't you?"

"You bet your ass I do," replied Darcy. "I'd bet my ass on a lot of things. Your ass? Not a chance I'd risk losing that for all the money in the world." "See, you can be very sweet without even trying." Darcy was beaming with joy, although there was no one with her to see it. "Exactly. Why ruin it with effort? So, I'll see you in an hour for training? And then maybe after that, we can try out a little —" "Spanking?" she blurted out. Darcy had been asking for Speed to do it lately, but he wasn't the type to want to strike a woman even if it was just some harmless fun. "I've been thinking about what you said. It is sexist if I'll punch a dude right in the face, but I won't give my girlfriend a little friendly tap on the butt."

"Well let's not make it too friendly this time, okay? I wanna see what you've got to give me, big biker man. I'll swing by and collect you before heading to the mountains?" "You got it." They hung up. She had the biggest smile on her face, and hadn't even realized she'd gotten wet just talking to Speed about the fun they were going to have later. Each of them had been working hard lately, so they deserved all the fun they could get as far as she was concerned. She couldn’t remember the last time she wasn’t either riding her bicycle, or riding her boyfriend – not counting the many, many other, non "riding" positions they did, of course. She also managed to find enough time to keep working on improving the image of The Wild Cards. That had been a pleasant surprise, to realize she was a great PR person. Yeah, Speed's boys

could act the part when they needed to. There was no way they could actually look the part, though, not with all those tattoos and the like. But they could be as sweet as pie when it was required of them, especially when their commanding leader was the one giving the orders to do so. The public was actually buying it, and Darcy only felt slightly guilty about the roundabout lying she was doing. These men were not respectable as far as the law and the general public were concerned. But she had wanted that sponsorship so bad, she'd been willing to make a concession about her morals. Now, however, she thought that the club might be able to turn a new leaf. Darcy was kind of doing a good thing, really, by making it possible for the bikers to rehabilitate themselves. Sometimes she thought about that and felt like it was all a load of bullshit, stuff she told herself to ease her conscience. Speed made everything feel better anyway; he was one hell of a good man to have.

All the blogging and dealing with the many questions and comments of the public had become infectious. Maybe managing public relations was in her blood all along. Darcy imagined that she might be able to make a career of it one day, if her cycling fell through in the end. But that was not going to happen, not while she still had a pulse. Still, if she had known that she was able to make so many more fans just by sharing more of herself online, Darcy might have been able to win over a sponsor many years ago. But then she wouldn't be lucky enough to have Speed. He'd been like an angel, albeit one with tattoos and a penchant for living outside the law. Darcy didn't pretend anymore. She accepted that she liked him purely because he was a bad boy, at first. What was going to be a good time and some heavy sex ended up turning into something loving and wonderful. Having always been so dominant with what she

wanted to do, it was refreshing to have a man who could take over for her when he needed to, but also let her be free at other times. Speed tied her up frequently, spanking her ass with a paddle or his tough hands. Darcy could just about cum from nothing but a good spanking and the immense teasing sessions she endured while firmly bound with soft ropes and fluffy handcuffs. They met for training, and then retired to the bedroom. Her wrists were bound to her ankles like a hog, belly down on her own bed. The ropes felt soothing around her flesh, writhing around in her bondage. She imagined them as loving little serpents of love, coiled and holding her to encourage the pleasure, holding her so she couldn’t try to run away and miss out on all there was to enjoy. They were nothing without Speed being there to make it all happen. “You’re getting too good at this,” she said later that day, after a nice spanking session. “I’d better learn how to fight, in case I need to beat off any women

who try to steal you from me.” “Sweetheart, they were already all over me before I met you. You got nothin’ to worry about.” He slapped her ass and it felt great. She’d been working hard for that firm ass, and wanted Speed to enjoy it. “Besides, you really earned everything you get. Your riding’s getting so good, there’s no way you’ll fail to qualify for the Frog race.” That’s what Speed had taken to calling the Tour de France. He was passionate about encouraging her to win, but he still like his racist little jokes at the expense of the French. It must have been some outdated sense of patriotism in him that he’d squelched down the day he decided to break the law for a living. Darcy wasn’t quite sure, but she just found it cute by that point, despite what her ideas about good taste told her. “All of this foreplay and no actual sex, though,” she said. “Feel how wet my pussy is, baby.”

Speed put his hand between her thighs and rubbed around. He removed her panties and they were drenched, glistening under the bedroom light. He licked them and smiled, that old wolf-smile. Only this was a more comforting wolf’s smile, one Darcy could trust now. One that she wanted planted all over her body, more than ever. “You’re going to gag on my dick first.” “Oh, sir? I hope I can handle it.” She was getting better at swallowing Speed’s dick, but still felt intimidated when he wanted her to deep throat him properly. “I work better with my hands, sir.” “No. Shut up and open your dirty mouth.” Speed was smiling, as it was all fun, but neither of them would dare break their role and ruin it all. Darcy did as told, hoping she was going to be able to do this without choking. She looked up from her bed, where she was tied up like a caught pig. Speed was as naked as she was. His dick had risen

to point up at an angle the moment he started walking toward her head. “You’ll get sex if you can handle this.” Darcy held her mouth open like a goldfish going after some fish flakes. Speed waggled his dick around in front of her face, letting it lightly hit her cheeks, and then he put the bottom of his shaft right across her forehead and laughed to himself. His balls nestled over her chin and she licked at them. He held himself like that for awhile, and then leaded forward and slapped her ass again. “I can’t believe what a good girl you are,” he said. Then, he pulled moved back, lowering his dick to point at her still open mouth. He kept his hands on his hips and carefully guided himself into her mouth. “Just keep your mouth open, and I’ll do all the work, sweetheart,” he said. Darcy looked up and winked at him. She kept her eyes locked on her strong man as he pushed to the

back of her throat. That made her want to gag a little, but she focused like she did when riding. The head of Speed’s dick was bulging with his excitement. It penetrated the hole of her throat, and slid down. She could smell him strongly and it grew as he pushed deeper. “There’s a good girl!” he shouted with a lot of enthusiasm, as his balls tickled her lips. Speed slapped her face playfully. He said he didn't enjoy the role too much, but he sure fit the part perfectly. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?” He pulled his dick out slowly, causing immense relief to Darcy. Her throat was suddenly clear, and she could breathe again. She was proud of herself, and smiled brightly. “Yes, sir, I am. Are you impressed yet?” “No, you’re not good enough at this yet. Here…” He put a hand on her head and she opened her

mouth for some more deep throating. This time, Speed thrust himself back and forth after he’d forced his entire cock down her throat. “You’re a whore,” he said. It was cute, but she could tell Speed was far too careful with her. Still, she appreciated that he wasn’t willing to get off unless she was enjoying herself, too. The things she did enjoy now, though, still left her wondering how she’d changed so much. Speed was slowly fucking her throat after a few minutes. She’d gagged several times, and wanted to be sick more than once. He had both hands on her head and was fucking her mouth and throat like it was a sloppy pussy. “Yeah!” he said. “Now you get some sex.”

“Those projects you’ve got my boys doing, they’re really bringing in some extra work for us,” Speed told her after they’d cleaned up and gotten dressed.

Besides all the training, sex, and blogging, Darcy had also gotten The Wild Cards doing some helpful service in the community. They weren’t too eager about it at first, saying it was pointless to work for free, and being a ‘goodie goodie’ was for bitches, that sort of thing. But Speed had told them to shut up and do it, and they had. And all of this had been going on the past months, leading up to the big race: the qualifier for the mighty Tour de France! Darcy had butterflies in her stomach, but she knew it was finally her time to shine. The race was to be a straight shot up into the canyon, and she was just as prepared as anyone alive for that, hopefully more so.

They were waiting to start the race; Darcy sat on top of her expensive cycle, all the other racers with looks of determination on their faces. Aubrey was there, too, of course, but she still wouldn’t look Darcy in the eyes. It was like being dead to

her own best friend, and that broke Darcy’s heart. The boys were all there with Speed, carrying on like they were at a rock concert, yelling Darcy’s name and waving bouquets of flowers around. It was touching to see those burly, grimy men showing such passionate support for her. They really did have something good inside them, each one, even if there was a lot of bad there, too. She smiled at them, and winked at Speed, who pointed and called out, “You’ve got this, sweetheart!” “Focus,” she whispered to herself. She had to get her head back in the zone. All of the passion, excitement, new ideas, and fresh faces in her recent life, it was all leading up to this, and she couldn’t let anything distract her from her destiny.

Chapter Twenty Two Speed was worried about Darcy. He knew her and could tell she was having trouble getting in the zone. With all the work training, and how they'd been swept up in their romance the rest of the time, things were intense for her lately. Add to that all of the crap that was going on with Aubrey and that prick Steve, things were likely to boil over some time soon. That would be fine. They would deal with it when it came and Speed and Darcy would overcome any obstacle together. For now, she needed to keep her head in the race. He had his mind plenty busy with making sure no one fucked with the race, and there wasn’t much he could do to help her now anyway. This was her race. She’d win it; he knew she would. It didn’t help that Aubrey had shown up with the leader of The Nucking Funts, a rival MC. When

Speed first saw the guy show up, he was on red alert immediately. The rival MC president was called "Dert," which was a fucking stupid name as far as most people were concerned. Speed hated the asshole on multiple levels. First, he was a competitor for plenty of the best money-making rackets at the disposal of The Wild Cards. That was enough reason to dislike Dert, but it was also personal. He went out of his way to act like an absolute piece of shit, even more than he truly was. Dert honestly thought it was cool and badass to be a scumbag loser who fucked everyone over. Speed wasn't even that bad of a guy, not when you looked at some of the other MC presidents. Yeah, he was a criminal and a loud-mouthed ass. He did not go around hurting people just for the fun of it, though, like a lot of bad guys did. The whole act was just sickening to Speed, and he kind of felt sorry for the idiot for thinking that was cool. Being in a club was not about trying to be bad to impress people. Any true biker would attest to that

right away, and probably spit in the eye of anyone who disagreed. So, when Speed saw Aubrey show up with Dert, it riled him right up. Darcy had been hurt by the silly woman, but still valued her and hoped to reconcile their friendship. Speed still wanted to look out for her, and make sure that no one hurt her, and that she didn't hurt herself. Aubrey had been hanging off Dert's arm like she probably hung off his dick when they were alone. It was hard to watch when Speed really wanted to walk over and break the guy's nose. He'd also tell Aubrey off and try to set her straight about what she was doing, if he had his way. He looked around at all the people who'd shown up to watch the qualifying race. There were a lot of cameras and journalists in the crowd. Making a scene there would mean the end for the improved image Darcy had worked hard to get for The Wild Cards. Aubrey looked over at Speed many times. When

she did it at first, Speed had shrugged his shoulders at her and mouthed the words: What the fuck? She just smiled and acted like she was getting to him, like she was all that. It was infuriating, but the race was more important. That dopey bitch was really showing herself to be trouble, not worth trying to help. Still, if Darcy had hopes of fixing their friendship, Speed would try to make sure the stupid girl was all right. If that poser club president she was with did any wrong by her, The Wild Cards would have no choice but to fuck him up. Aubrey was in the position to start a nasty club war, instead of just a rivalry. Fuck it, Speed told himself. She wasn't worth getting too worked up over, even if Darcy did still consider Aubrey to be a friend. Dert had been giving Speed and his boys daggers all day, too, since the minute they showed up. "Look at this piece of shit," said one of Speed's boys from behind him.

He didn't pay much notice, though. Speed was too busy trying to keep himself from losing his temper. "Just ignore them. I don't want anything to go down here, you got it?" he told all the boys who were with him. How Steve was okay with all of this, that was anyone’s guess. As far as anyone knew, Steve was still coaching Aubrey. If he didn't like it when Darcy had started to see Speed, it didn't make a lick of sense that the old coach would be okay with his new rider being all over someone like Dert. Speed was practically a saint in comparison! Trying to figure out the heads of some people was a loser’s game…but it was also part of Speed’s business to get into the minds of the unhinged, so he could stay a step ahead of them. Something told him this was all bad news. Most unsettling was that Steve was involved with it, and didn't seem to give a shit that Dert was with Aubrey. If she were just fucking a biker MC like Dert, Speed would

have understood. She'd wanted Speed in the first place, but she couldn't have him. So, she went to find another badass with tats, even though he was a sad parody of a real biker. No, Steve was the really troubling component of this scenario. "I don't trust that ex-army pig any more 'n I trust a cop," said Larry the Bastard, chewing on several pieces of nicotine gum. He spat out a glistening stream of all the saliva that built up from his chewing, didn't quite wipe his mouth properly with the sleeve of his jacket. “I can’t understand you with that shit in your mouth,” said Speed. Larry spat it out into his dirty hand and repeated himself. Then, he added, “I said I don't trust that dickhead. And you’re the one who told me to quit smoking.” “True…And I don't trust that dickhead either. There's not a lot we can do about it right now. I

don't want to mess up our good PR by starting a fight here in front of everyone. Not to mention how it would ruin the race.” “Should we do something at all? Take him out away from the rest of these people and then mess him up, maybe?” asked Larry. “No, just keep an eye out, especially on him,” said Speed. He nodded his head toward Steve. Larry nodded and shoved the wad of nicotine gum back in his maw, went back to chewing away loudly to fight his never-ending cravings. The gum was annoying, but Speed remembered how Larry could barely move ten feet at a quick pace without needing to stop and recover his breath. That was before he'd given up the smokes and gotten onto the gum, in a big way. Speed didn't want one of his most trusted and experienced boys dying on him, or being totally useless when they needed to deal with some shit in a hurry.

The race officials had cleared everyone but the coaches away. Since Speed wasn't technically a coach, he wasn't allowed to remain by Darcy's side before the race. That didn't bother her since she liked to stay quiet and prepare for the race, without any distractions from someone like a coach. Speed was glad to stay away from the focus on the cameras as well, and he would rather focus on making sure no one did anything stupid. That prick Steve was included as a coach, unfortunately. The guy had gotten Aubrey psyched up, ready to race, done his job properly for once, at least. She was looking like a true contender, and maybe she would give Darcy a run for her money this time. There was no way she was going to win, though. Aubrey had gone off the rails lately, but Darcy was in her absolute prime. Steve walked toward Darcy, but there was no way he was going to talk to her…or was he? “What the fuck’s that dickhead doing?” asked

Larry. "I'd pay a lot of money to know," replied Speed. "Boys, stay ready." He stood up real straight, waiting for something to happen, and that's when he'd need to pounce into action and protect Darcy. Hopefully not, but… He was walking right toward Darcy, though, smiling, too. That look on Steve's face could not have been an indicator that something good was going to happen. And then he simply handed Darcy a bottle of water. That was all, like he was bringing her a peace offering or something. It was a pretty pathetic gesture if the guy was hoping to get back in her good books. Still, at least it wasn't a gun or something. The bottle of water was the kind the event organizers been selling to the audience and had provided for the riders for free. It wasn't an unmarked bottle, so it looked on the level. And Darcy didn’t seem upset. Apart from looking

incredibly surprised, there was not much reaction from her at all. She had not been paying attention when Steve had begun to walk toward her. Unlike some of the riders, she was just preparing mentally, looking ahead and breathing. Speed knew Darcy was probably quietly whispering words of determination and encouragement to herself, too. After looking up and seeing him walking over, what else was she meant to do? They said a few brief words, seemed amicable enough. There was no way to tell what they were saying. Probably something about good luck, the weather maybe, who fucking knew? It was all too fishy. She smiled, a fake smile, the whole time. Steve offered her the bottle of water. He'd been talking with it in his hand, and then suddenly brought it up in front of him. The guy acted like he'd totally forgotten about it. All some big surprise. Hey, look what I brought you. That kind of bullshit. It looked ridiculously staged so there was no way Darcy was buying it. "There's no way they're making up after the way he

treated her. I know her too well and she's not that soft," said Speed. "For someone so straight and narrow, I'd agree she's a hard bitch," said Larry. "Do you think you could avoid using that kind of talk to describe my woman, Larry? Shit." "You know we all think she's a top lady. What's wrong with bitch anyway? Bitches are great. I fuckin' love all sorts of bitches." He laughed and spat again. It didn't seem relevant to Larry the Bastard that he was chewing nicotine gum, and not chewing tobacco. Maybe spitting would be his new habit once the gum had gotten old. It did help to accent his remarks, to be able to spit after saying something he found to be witty. "Yeah okay. She must still have a soft spot for the old asshole. He did coach her for a lot of years. Maybe I'm just thinking too much about all this.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to calm the

dull throbbing of his brain. It was a bright day and the sun was fucking with his eyes. He should have brought some shades, but didn't think about that when the morning was still dim and they were heading out to the race. “I always had a soft spot for my old teachers, too,” said Larry, again through a mouthful of gum. He'd managed to either adjust his speaking so he could make himself intelligible, or he'd just adjusted the gum in his mouth so he could speak properly. Either way it was an improvement, making conversation much easier with him. "You don't think they're —" "No. I don't think Darcy's fucking some sad old prick who can't even defend himself." Speed chose to disregard that as a throw away comment. He knew Larry was a bastard, hence the name. He only said the wrong things, though. He wasn't really such a terrible person, outside of business hours.

Anyway, Speed was too caught up in staring at Steve hatefully. Mostly, his focus was being spent on trying not to hate. Everyone knew he could be an angry and violent man. That's one of the reasons he was in charge of the club in the first place. They weren't about to let some pussy who wasn't willing to swing a punch take charge of The Wild Cards. Keeping a cool head when it was required was another trait most good leaders needed, too. He wouldn't have admitted that to anyone else, but he was thinking about running over and pounding his head into the ground. Oh, the sheer joy he'd feel as his fist collided with his face. It wouldn't be joy in the conventional sense either. There was a darker side to pleasure and only those who had made a living doing bad things could understand why it gave them such a thrill. It was more than just being bad. If you didn't enjoy something, you wouldn't want to keep doing it for no good reason. Money was a great reason, but it wasn't enough to make someone follow a life of misdeeds thoroughly. Bad boys like to be bad because it

made them feel good. The same thing went for bad girls. And he'd never forgive Steve for messing with Darcy. There would be the whole revenge factor there, too. If only he could just get that creep alone and find a way to stop anyone from finding out about the beating Speed would lay on him. That would finally get Steve back for being such a worthless person. But Speed was not about to make a scene and risk ruining this day for his girl — no fucking way. And to say how he was really feeling might entice his boys to do their leader a favor by roughing Steve up on their own initiative. Best to just keep it quiet and pretend like everything was o-fucking-kay. He had to get ahold of that anger, the thing that made him want to rip off Steve’s arm and beat him to death with it. But when such anger was an old acquaintance, even a lifelong friend, it was hard to ignore it. Usually that kind of feeling was what helped him out when the chips were down, and

someone needed to take action. In the "real" world where people didn't go around breaking the law every day, those types of actions usually got a man thrown in jail for life, or maybe killed. Get it under control. Don't lose your cool and ruin this for her. “I guess it’s nothing…” Speed muttered. Darcy took the peace offering from Steve and started to unscrew the cap. Good girl, checking to make sure the safety seal was still intact. Maybe there was nothing to worry about there. If Steve was up to no good — and that was most definitely what the old prick was up to — it didn't have anything to do with that actual bottle of water. There was no conspiracy to poison anyone today. That kind of shit only happened back in the old days of castles and knights, right, when people didn't have guns and shit like that? Speed's head was really playing tricks on him now. He was starting to think like a crazy person. It was just all the stress probably, the tightening feelings that

came along with caring for another person so deeply it almost hurt. Fuck, love was a hell of a thing. She took a drink, seemed refreshed and happy enough, then set the bottle down to the side of the road. But when Steve walked away from Darcy, he looked right at Speed at was grinning in a way that was all too familiar. He’d been so distracted watching Steve with hatred that he didn’t realize the race had just started. “Shit!” he said. But it was too late. The riders took off from their starting positions, Darcy pulling out ahead of the others already. Speed was thrilled at that; he wanted her to win so badly it almost hurt. As they took off up the track, into the canyon, he was getting more nervous by the second. Something was wrong, and he couldn’t make a proper judgment on exactly what he should do. There was a pretty big chance that Speed had just

imagined it all, and everything was fine. He did things like that when he let his anger get the better of him, and he’d never been in love, yes love, with a woman before. It was all too much for him to handle, while keeping his head. The best thing to do was just let the race happen, and worry about that Steve prick later, find out what his deal is then. Yeah, maybe he'd let his temper get away from him once the race was underway. Everyone would be watching what was happening on the track. They wouldn't notice if Speed and his boys found a nice, quiet place to talk with Steve. They'd find out what was going on and exactly what that ex-army prick had going through his head. "Hey, boys," he said to Larry and the others. They crowded in closer to him, noticing the businesslike tone in their president's voice. "We're going to find out just why that guy was talking to Darcy, but not until I give the word. If anyone makes a scene here and fucks up all this good publicity we've gathered up, I'm gonna have to cut their nuts off and feed them to the dogs. Got it?"

They sure did. And they were looking forward to a chance to get their hands on Steve at last. Not one of them liked the guy, especially knowing Speed wasn't a fan of him.

Chapter Twenty Three That was a great start! Darcy was so focused that she didn't even care about Steve coming to talk to her. She'd just taken his "peace offering," as he put it, and that was all there was to it. He was acting a little strange, but he'd always been hard to judge. Even when he was her coach, there was always something about him Darcy couldn’t quite put her finger on. And then there was Aubrey, who'd had the nerve to show up hanging off some biker. Darcy didn't recognize him, but she knew the colors and emblem of his jacket. It was a rival club and that could only mean trouble. The man didn't look like he would treat her well at all. Maybe she was just doing it to get back at her, make Speed jealous, or for some other reason that could be anyone's guess. Everything was a distraction. Darcy knew all the

other aspects of her life were important. They made her the person she was and the top rider she was on the way to becoming. But they had no place in her mind during a race, especially one as important as this. She pushed them back, made those thoughts shut the hell up and let her think about what really mattered. Race. Win. Be the best. You've been working for this. Don't waste the opportunity you've been given, Darcy. And they were off before she knew it. That was the biggest relief of her life. It was almost orgasmic, only different. Instead of a buildup of pleasure that was finished with a final peak of enjoyment, it was tension and horrible emotions that were let go. Darcy was ahead already, and it was just the very first step toward winning this race. She had it covered.

Out beyond the roaring crowd, all the eyes watching and wondering who was going to be the best that day, Darcy felt more at peace. There was never anything that centered her in the same way as riding did. Training was one thing, a daily ritual that made her life have meaning, something to test her. But actually competing, that was when she felt truly alive. But competing wasn’t enough, giving your best effort, if you never won. That was how she’d always lived her life; it would all culminate in this race. What position Darcy was in when she crossed that finish line meant everything. Losing would leave her with nothing at all. Push everything away. Don't let the world get to you while you're out here, Darcy. You will win. No one can stop you now. She was feeling very Zen under the pressure once

she was out there racing. It also felt like she was completely alone, though there was a whole pack of other riders just behind her. They made sounds as they followed her, but that was easy to ignore, the whirring of their pedals blending in with her own. Their grunts of breathing and exertion were also easy enough to ignore. They moved like one big organism, only the individual parts of this gigantic cycling creature were at war with one another. They were in competition and only one part, one individual unit, could come out triumphant. Things started to come together in a way like never before, almost slowing down so she could really take time to react to each bend of the track, each little gust of wind that pushed or pulled her and the cycle. Monks who spent years sitting in silence and trying to figure out how to become truly "one" with all of creation couldn't attain the kind of state Darcy was in. Don't let anyone catch up. No one is going to

take this away from you. Her mind was playing odd tricks on her. The sides of the road were blending together with the blue up above. It was also like she really couldn't hear any other riders behind her. Darcy desperately wanted to look behind her to see if there was anyone still right on her tail. Doing that was like giving up, admitting someone else was going to catch up and overtake her, take away the glory of winning this race. There wasn't a chance in hell she was going to give another rider the satisfaction. Especially not Aubrey, after the way she'd been acting lately. If she were to win, Darcy didn't think she would ever be able to get over it and forgive her for everything. So now she was riding for the future chances of rekindling their friendship, as well as for herself. It was strange, really, like being on some kind of wonderful drug. Streaks of light and color washed past, and made her laugh. It was like being drunk, or maybe on drugs, not that she’d ever tried

anything a doctor hadn’t prescribed. This was probably the same kind of thing. Her life had been leading up to this race, so her brain was spinning out of control because of all the excitement. That was a reasonable explanation, right? Her legs were burning but in a good way. Her strong back was welded onto the frame of the bike, supporting her arms and hands and legs, everything. So much weight on her chest, breathing becoming funny. Fluid funny. Swimming through water. Riding through water anyway. The sky was beautiful. The whirring grew louder again. Someone was catching up and she knew should look behind her to see who it was. “Oh, shit,” she said, and the words came out all funny. Had Steve put something in that water? Of course he did, thinking any better of him after what’d happened was naïve. She’d been suckered in for real this time. Now it was all flowing

through her body and working to bring her down. That whirring sound got louder and louder. The race was over for Darcy. Maybe the sound was all just in her head, though; she was still moving too fast to be falling back into the pack. Something approached her and Darcy turned her head to see what it was, the shadow crossing over into her field of vision. It collided with her from behind but didn't connect fully. Darcy kept on riding and she heard a person laughing. The sound made her skin crawl and the sensation worked with her already altered state of mind to a frightening result. That maniacal laughter was terrifying, as though she would certainly die if it didn't stop. "Aubrey?!" she shouted as she turned and saw who it was trying to run her off the road. Her friend rammed her again, making her rear tire grind and stutter to a brief stop. It started to spin out on the asphalt. Darcy didn’t have time to do much, couldn’t react

beyond basic survival instincts. She just held on and tried to keep riding. Bringing her bike to a sudden stop would have been too much for her to handle with her foggy mind. The tips of her fingers were going numb and a tingling feeling was working around her body like some kind of muddy lightning. "You're going to kill us!" she called out to the oncoming blur at the side of her vision. They were moving so fast Darcy was sure she'd crack her head open if she crashed the cycle. With a final thud, Aubrey managed to get her bicycle to tip the balance of Darcy's, and they both shot to the edge of the track. It was probably fortunate that they were coming up to a sharp corner, because there was a safety barricade set up for riders whose breaks had failed, or were having trouble stopping for some other reason. Darcy was thankful when she saw their two fighting bikes were about to collide with it.

Her cycle careened into a safety barricade on an upcoming corner, probably saving her life. She rolled over and over, caught under her bicycle and praying nothing would get broken. It was hard to feel any of the pain, which was for the best. Aubrey clattered to a halt nearby. With a clear mind and all of her reaction speed still with her, Aubrey didn't crash. She brought herself to a stop and threw her cycle down hard. Then, she ran over to where Darcy was among the knocked down safety barrier, and the bales of hay that had been strategically placed for cushioning. There was soft sand underneath, which prevented her from getting any cuts broken bones. At least, she didn't feel like she'd seriously hurt anything in the crash. “Speed was supposed to be mine!” screamed Aubrey as she jumped on top of Darcy and started to rip and her hair and slap her in the face. "No, please!" said Darcy. She couldn't get all the thoughts floating around her head to come out, though. Aubrey had been given an unfair deal, that

much was true. Darcy hadn't thought about her feelings when she'd walked out of that restaurant and gone to the hotel with Speed. She'd ditched her best friend right in the middle of their celebratory lunch, and didn't even give her a good explanation. To add insult to injury, she'd gone off with the man Aubrey had been crushing hard over. And then this was all just swept under the rug, like her feelings didn't matter? "I'm just as good as you are!" screamed Aubrey. But it wasn't her. No, it wasn't really the good friend Darcy had known since they were just kids. "Why did you do this to me?!" If she had to give an answer, Darcy wouldn't have been able to. You did me wrong. You need to be punished severely. But those were the thoughts of a lunatic, not a sane and rational person. These were the actions of someone who desperately needed help, not a person who genuinely wanted to cause pain

and misery. "I love you," Darcy managed to say, but the words didn’t seem to form properly. Aubrey just kept hitting her in the face, with open hands and not actual fists. It was as though she couldn't bring herself to really hurt Darcy, or she was just trying to work herself up to cause more serious damage. As her grunts and sobs grew louder and closer together, the strikes were harder and harder. Soon, she was punching Darcy in the face and around the chest and shoulders, holding her victim with the weight of her own body. And then Darcy was being strangled, choking under the weight of Aubrey and her hard, slender fingers. Any chance she had of getting some words out were gone. Maybe there was something she could have said that would have reminded her about the friendship they'd shared all these years. They had always been in competition with each other, but that had never stood in the way before.

Letting a guy get between them was crazy. The way Aubrey looked down at her told Darcy there was nothing she could have said now anyway. The time was gone for talk. Now it was time to go to sleep and dream about how things might have been different in another reality. "No," she tried to say. The word was subvocalized at the back of her throat, but it couldn't escape the crushing force. She raised her knees up to hoist the crazed woman off, but they were made of Jell-O and couldn’t do much to help. With all of her will and power coming from those hard muscles, she tried and tried again to push Aubrey off of her. Even if her body weren’t too heavy, the grip of those hard fingers around Darcy's throat would have been too difficult to pry free. It was pointless. Darcy's hands were much the same, noodles that wouldn’t cooperate to pry Aubrey’s fingers from her throat. Her body was in pain now as the numbing sensation took a cruel twist. That made

the pain from being strangled seem much less than it was. But the hurt of being treated that way by a friend was still unbearable. Their eyes met and for a brief instant it seemed as though Aubrey felt sorry for what she was doing. The grip loosened around Darcy's throat and she was ready to try and get up. Then, that cold, heartless intensity returned to her eyes and Darcy prepared herself to be strangled once again, until she could no longer breathe this time. She managed to get two pointless words out before that happened. “Why, Aubrey?” she tried to ask, but that only brought on another bout of hateful screams and sobs. It was clear Darcy was going to die out there, on what was meant to be the best day. This was going to take her to the Tour, at long, long last. Instead, killed by her best friend. At least she wouldn't be left to die from the poison Steve had given her, and

this was surely better than dying all alone in a nursing home someday… Just as that final thought crossed her mind, the ground began to shake and the skies thundered, maybe sounding her passage into an afterlife that was hopefully better than this one. She’d miss her family, and Speed, who she had only just started to share her life with. That sexy man, tough as nails, big hog between his legs, on the road and between the sheets. Motorcycles! That’s what the rumbling was — there were roaring bikes heading her way. Could it be Speed had really come to save her? If anyone could bring her back from the dead, it'd be him. She was surely going to slip away forever if he didn't get there in time. So melodramatic, but she couldn't control the spinning vibration as black slashed away at her already failing vision. It was hard to remember if she'd been standing up or on the ground. Aubrey was there, too, but she forgot what they were doing and what had happened.

Darcy finally gave up and lost consciousness under the weight that was on top of her.

Chapter Twenty Four The excitement of the race sure didn't last. People were watching on the big screens that had been set up around the area. It was all a lot of fanfare and fun for the many, many fans. Speed just didn't get how people could enjoy going to see a live race like that. The cyclists were gone, and now they were basically waiting for someone to win before they could even get a look at any of their favorite riders again. At least with most other sports there was a central area the crowd could gather around to watch. Oh well, he was a fan of anything Darcy loved. And they had everything riding on this race, so to say.

Once the riders had disappeared from the sight of the crowd, he looked around to see if anyone was watching them. He knew his boys were eager to do something other than sit around and wait. "All

right, then. Larry and Horace, come with me. The rest of you make sure no one brings any cameras near us or fucks with us in any other way. We're going to take our friend Steve out over there for a little talk.” He nodded his head casually at some trees that were over behind some portable buildings that didn't have the lights on inside. "Horace, go and wait over there for Steve to finish what he's doing. Take him for a walk over there, where me and Larry are going to be waiting. Don't make a scene. Don't let anyone think Steve is being taken against his will. Don't fuck this up." Horace was a younger member from some backwoods country in Europe. Horace was a crazy fucker, still willing to do stupid shit to prove himself – probably enjoyed it, too, as they all did. Once Steve had finished some business in the coach area, chatting to people and acting like he was a big shot, he headed away. The second he was away from the main area, Steve started to walk very fast. He was only a little way off from

actually running. Speed and Larry could see him leave the coaching area from where they were hiding, but he suddenly disappeared out of sight. "You think it was a good idea to get Horace to do this? I don't know how much I trust that crazy fucker." "Don't worry. He's not going to mess this up. And have you seen that Russian fucker with a knife? I'd be shitting myself if he came at me with a bad attitude." "No you wouldn't," said Larry. He knew Speed too well to think he'd be scared of a younger biker, no matter how crazy the look in their eye was. "Yeah, you're right. I wouldn't be scared. Steve will be, though. He'll follow him without a fuss. Just take my word for it." They heard some voices from around the corner, coming toward the portable buildings they were waiting behind.

"Just shut the fuck up and do what I told you," came that thick accent. It was Horace, for sure. "This better be good.I don't have to listen to you." Suddenly Steve came flying by the corner of the building. Well, he didn't exactly fly so much as stumble and then tumble, like a big old pile of bricks. "What the fuck is your problem?!" he cried out with indignation. “That's it kid, you just made a huge mistake." He got up and looked like he was trying to psyche himself up for a fight. He'd definitely lost his fighter's instinct since his days in the military – that is, if he'd even had one to begin with. "What's my problem?" said Horace as he approached the downed man. "You're the one who's going to have a problem when you turn your stupid head to the left." "What are you talking about, you…" he was going to say more but saw Speed and Larry sitting there waiting for him. "You," he said with hatred. "I

should have known this was all your doing. Who else would get a tattooed dirt bag like this to do their bidding for them? “Looked like he was going somewhere,” said Horace with a thick accent. “Where are you off to?” Speed asked. “I was just taking a piss,” said Steve. He didn’t look worried at all any more. For some reason he'd decided he could speak to Speed however he wanted a long time ago. "Have you forgotten all about our incident in the mountains that day? You don't seem to take me very seriously, Steve." "That's because you're just another common thug. Why would anyone take you seriously? The sooner you end up behind bars, the better off the whole world is going to be, especially Darcy. What you've done to that poor girl is disgusting." Steve

kept making little motions like he was about to run off. He was probably just testing to see how much attention Horace was paying to his movements. Every time Steve turned a little or shifted on his feet, the young biker moved a little, as well. It was like he was his shadow. "You're not going anywhere. Stand up straight and look the man in the eye when you talk to him. Stop being so disrespectful." "I've got this, Horace," said Speed. He liked his men showing initiative, but he didn't want it to look like they were acting all on their own. "That little display of friendship you put on out there before the race, what was that all about?" "I don't know what you're talking about," said Steve, still darting his eyes around like he was trying to find some hidden escape hatch or something. There were the portable buildings, some trees and shrub that were too thick to move through, and then a fence that would take some time

to climb. That is, assuming Steve could actually get over it. He might have had a trick knee or something, with his age. "You're not going anywhere so I suggest you start telling me what I need to know. And I'll know if you're lying. Don't worry, Steve, I've got you completely worked out." Speed did not have him worked out at all, but he was hoping this would be a successful bluff. "Fuck off," said Steve. "I know you're doing this to improve your club's reputation with the public. There's no way you'd jeopardize that just to find out why I was talking to your girlfriend. You really that jealous that you'd throw all of that away? "What was in that bottle of water?" "Water." “Knife,” said Speed.

Larry felt around beneath his jacket. He landed his grasp on a few different things, made a face like he'd found what he was after, and then shook his head and continued feeling around. "Shit, how much stuff have you got hidden on you, Larry?" said Horace. "I have just the right amount of shit on me, you Russian bastard," said Larry defiantly. He was not into taking lip from any fucking rookies, that was for sure. "I'm not Russian," said Horace. "You're the fucking Russian. Fuck…" He kept quiet after Larry gave him a death stare. "Here," Larry said, and he took out a hunting knife, then handed it to Horace. He touched the tip of the steel with a finger, then ran it lightly along the edge of the blade to inspect how sharp it was. He was satisfied that it was

more than sharp enough to do the job. He smiled right at Steve and suddenly the look on the older man's face changed. Still, he tried to put on a brave front and act like he didn't believe they would do him any harm. "You're full of shit," he said. "Let me go." “You're free to go," said Speed, "but you need to answer some simple questions first. What’s the deal talking to Darcy? Why now? And what the fuck did you give her?” “Water!” said Steve. He yelled it, but he sounded like he pleading, please just believe me. "You don't talk to her for all this time, not since you assaulted her and I had to sort you out." "I didn't assault anyone." "You pushed, hard. What the hell is that, then? Were you trying to shake her hand and just plain

missed? I wish I wasn't trying to turn our rep around, you know? It would have been a whole lot simpler to just bury you somewhere in those mountains. I'm sure no one would have missed you." "Aubrey asked me to apologize to her. It felt stupid going over there without at least some reason. I figured offering her some water would be a good segue." "Do you believe him, Larry?" Speed asked. "Shit no. Look at his face. Lying piece of shit's up to something. In fact, I'd suggest we should finish up here soon and go make sure everything's going good." "Yeah, you're right. Okay Horace, find out if he's lying." Horace had been eagerly waiting for Speed to give him the order. He walked up to Steve, who put his

hands up like he was going to try wrestling or something. But Horace had that menacing blade in his hand, holding it right at Steve's face. He walked toward him until Steve was backed into the side of one of the portable buildings, the one they were using as cover. He started to shake and looked away from Horace and the other two bikers. "Fuck off," he said petulantly. Horace then started lightly tracing the knife over Steve’s cheek, not actually breaking the skin yet. "What were you doing with our boss's woman?" "I told you already." “Are you willing to go to prison for cutting off someone’s finger, Horace?” asked Speed. “No fucking worries,” he said happily. “Steve? You've got about ten seconds to decide

how to deal with this. I'm done wasting time and you know I'm serious." Horace grabbed Steve by his right wrist. "This is going to fucking hurt by God, but it's exciting, no?" “Okay!" cried out Steve as the knife was moving toward his hand. “It was just a sedative. You’re not the only one who can make money fixing a race. You think we all have to play by the rules, but not you. You make me sick.” He spat on the ground by Speed’s foot, then decided it was a bad idea the second he locked eyes with Speed. The tough older guy suddenly seemed like a kid, but he still didn’t grovel. “…I’m not afraid of you,” he managed to say without completely losing his nerve. “Yeah, that’s why you just gave yourself away. And I’m guessing that asshole MC president Aubrey was with had something to do with this.” “So?”

“He’s going to be very happy when he finds out you just ratted on him. Losing a finger might have been the better option, Steve. Let him go, Horace.” Steve ran off the second he was free. Speed told his guys to lose the knife, and any other illegal items they had on them. “Don’t judge me for what I’m about to do, but I can’t fuck this up for Darcy by getting my hands dirty, not here.” “We understand,” said Larry. “What are you thinking?” “Boys…I’m gonna have to go to the cops.” “Fuck,” said Larry and Horace in unison. Speed went over to the nearest cop, giving the guy a bit of a fright. He nearly put his hand on the handle of his pistol, but calmed down soon enough. “I’ve just heard directly from the man himself, that Steve Henderson, one of the coaches, has given a rival cyclist a sedative before the race. He’s fixed

the race and Darcy’s in danger.” The cop looked shaken, and unsure about whether this was the truth. Speed added, “If you’re not going to do anything about it, I have to go help her!” That’s just what he and the club did. They hopped on their bikes and roared up the canyon after the competing cyclists. It didn’t take long before they caught up with the cyclists. There was a group of them gathered around two of the riders. They were on the ground beside the road, fighting. Aubrey was throttling Darcy, who was prone and almost motionless under her. The roar of the bikers scattered the other riders, who had been trying to stop Aubrey from her attack. That might have very well saved Darcy’s life, if she was still alive. Speed jumped off his bike, letting it keep rolling

into the side of the canyon. He grabbed Aubrey hard, and shoved her aside. One of his boys held the screaming woman back while she threw insults at both Darcy and Speed. “You were mine, Speed! That whore is nothing compared to me. I’ll win this race and I’ll get you back!” That cop had luckily decided to believe Speed, and there was an EMT vehicle close behind them, along with several police cars with very confused looking officers inside them. In the end, it was lucky it hadn’t turned into some sort of cop and biker standoff. The police had assumed the trouble was caused by The Wild Cards at first, and needed to be convinced before they put their guns away and arrested Aubrey. The other cyclists had helped a lot there, backing Speed’s story. “Don’t you keep up with the news?” one of the

other cyclists, a young man, had asked the cop who was in charge on the scene. “This is a legit biker club; they do good in the community.”

Chapter Twenty Five She remembered some things while she wasn't completely awake. There were sounds and maybe some lights coming in through the darkness. It was still lonely in there without anyone from the outside world to take her mind off things. Maybe at times she was able to hear voices, like the voice of Speed talking to her. What he was saying, she had no way of knowing. Things were going slowly, too slow, as though the night had drawn down over her life. An open kind of reflection was possible in that time, without the constant nagging of the conscious world. While Darcy had no idea anything was happening or who she was at that point in time, it was easier to simply exist and things came into place in a brand new way. She woke up in a hospital room, much to her

surprise. The smell of fragrant flowers was the first thing she noticed. It was warming along with the increased light that came into her vision. The sensations were all too much, though, and she wanted to recede back into her cavernous sleep. Wait, something deep inside told her, there's a lot to look forward to if you just give it a chance. Maybe that was right. But before her eyes were even open, she knew there was a lot of pain to get through. For starters, her eyes were sore, and it took some effort to pry her eyelids apart. "Ow," she mumbled. "My eyes are glued shut." "Take it easy.” "Speed?" she said to the empty space around her. It wasn't necessarily empty. Darcy just couldn't see what was there. Finally, she ripped her eyes open and blinked profusely to try and get away from that aching, sticky feeling that was in them. "Oh, hey…"

Speed moved closer to her. He had been there after all. "You have no idea how good it is to see you awake, beautiful. How do you feel?" he sounded like he might have been crying at some point, but that was such an absurd image. "I'm in the hospital? What happened? Oh wait, the race…Did I win?" "You should've," said another voice. It was one of the boys from the motorcycle club. Darcy couldn't remember his name just now. He might have been one of the newer guys. "You really should have won," added Speed. He then turned and gave the younger biker a reprimanding look, as though he didn't want him to speak out of turn. That's when Darcy noticed the guys were all there. "Guys, you all came to visit me in the hospital? That's so sweet. No wonder the public thinks you're all right. Thank you." The warm show of

care and affection from such rough and tough men was all the more touching. Darcy felt like she might want to cry, if only she wasn't so dried out and sore. She just didn't have the energy to get swept up in such a display of emotions. But there they were, looking like they’d actually showered for once. It looked as though some of them had even combed their hair and were trying to look presentable. “What’s going on?” she said. “Wait, are you boys wearing clean clothes?” They still had their jackets on, but were, indeed, wearing new clothes, as well. There was a sheepish look on each one of their faces, like they had just been caught doing something incredibly foolish or, worse, completely un-street. "Don't make a big thing out of it," said Larry. He was looking a lot less like a dirt bag, and a lot more like your average dad type. He looked like

maybe he could even be someone's father or husband one day. That was a long shot, Darcy knew, but it was still nice to see them in a different light for once. And Darcy was impressed, if not kind of suspicious about whether or not there might have been any ulterior motives for the new look. "Did you guys get dressed up just for me?" she asked. They replied with quietly grunted sounds to confirm this was the case. Darcy continued, "I don't know what to say. Wow…just wow. Not bad.” Speed had been hanging at an arm's remove from her, like she might be crushed if there wasn't enough room for her to breathe. He moved closer, and then Darcy saw the most tender and caring look come over his face. Saying the guy was relieved would have been a huge understatement. He came in close and kissed her deeply, gently, stroking her hair and being mushy, even though his

gang was looking on. It was the kind of moment that really showed a person's true colors. How they felt about another person. He drew back and something was on his mind. At first he stumbled over the words on his lips before they'd even begun to form properly. "I, uh…" he said and then stopped. "There's some things that we should probably talk about. The doctor said you might not remember what happened. They also said that telling you too much might give you false memories. You know what, I think we'd better get a nurse or something." "Go get a nurse," said Larry to one of the younger bikers. “Wait, did Aubrey attack me? Oh shit, she tried to kill me or something like that? I can't quite remember what went on, but it was pretty bad wasn't it?" She was starting to work herself into a bit of a panic.

"Take it easy, sweetheart. Just breathe, all right? You're totally fine now and there's nothing to worry about.” Speed stroked her hair and it became too obvious that the strands were greasy and stuck together. It must have been a long time since she'd had a shower. "How long have I been in here?" "Let's just get a nurse and a doctor to take a look at you before we go into too much of that. I don't want you to stress yourself out. Try to calm down and take it easy, Darcy." "Did I miss the race? Hang on…it was at the race when she tried to get me, wasn't it? I lost the race? Please tell me that's not true, Speed." Her breathing was doing anything but slowing down. Hyperventilation was going to set in if she kept this up. "Okay, okay, I'll just wait and find out everything after the doctor comes." She saw the worried looks on the faces of all the bikers. These guys genuinely cared about her, or they wouldn’t'

have gone through so much effort. Yeah, Speed might have made them put on nicer clothes and show up. It was a whole other task to force them to actually give a crap, though. “Can we have some privacy, boys?” asked Speed. He'd reached the limit of what he was willing to share with his club members. "You don't need to hang around here for this. I appreciate that you all wanted to come down, and I'm sure Darcy does, too. You're all right for a bunch of low lifes." "Thanks, boss," said Horace with his difficult to understand accent. Darcy always remembered his name because it made him stick out like a sore and dirty thumb. Although, he wasn't dirty that day, with his hair washed and combed, and he was even wearing a polished pair of boots. “Okay, then,” said Larry, chewing on some gum. “Enough standing around pulling each other's dicks and talking about our feelings, hey? Come on, let’s go get some beers at that bar down the street. We'll

be there if anything happens, boss.” His voice didn’t sound as harsh as is usually did, and his breathing was steadier. He was chewing on some gum and the large packet of smokes was missing from his shirt pocket. He always kept them there so he could get his constant fixed of nicotine. Darcy remembered something about him trying to quit. It must have worked after all. That would be good news. Larry herded the others out of the room and closed the door behind him. There were sounds of low sheering and various bursts of merry banter as they went. It was easy enough to hear through the hospital room door. Darcy hoped they weren't going to disturb any of the other patients with their excitement. They were happy about the beer, and seeing their president’s old lady recovering, too. She smiled. "You are looking very nice," she told Speed. "You always look a lot cleaner and respectable than some of the others, in a totally masculine way, of

course. But you really are a sight for sore eyes. And mine are pretty damn sore right now." Speed moved toward her and maybe even blushed a tiny amount at hearing those kind words. "Well, being in some kind of coma will do that to you. You had me worried, baby." He had hardly ever called her 'baby' before. It was always 'sweetheart' or something else. That might have been a sign that he was truly missing her all this time, or maybe he was just so emotional that he'd forgotten all of his usual phrases and tag words. Darcy rubbed at her eyes. "I can't believe how tired I feel. You'd think being in a coma would give you all the sleep you'd need for weeks to come. I don't even think I'm going to be able to have sex for awhile. We're talking, weeks, maybe even months. Do you think you could still love me if I wasn't able to satisfy you in a sexual way?" "What? The doctor didn't say anything about that. Are you sure you're not just…Oh, very funny. You

really had me going there for a minute." He was trying to sound sarcastic, like he'd just been pretending to fall for it. "That look on your face," Darcy said with laughter. "You thought you weren't going to get any for who knows how long, and you were so worried. Jeez, I hope you were that worried when I got hurt. "Of course I was." He got a mischievous glint in his eyes. "When you got hurt, I knew I wasn't getting any that night, for sure." "You must have had a lot of time to think while I was under. I guess you've been practicing your funny jokes most of the time. It's pretty obvious." Darcy was trying not to laugh herself. She felt like something might burst inside her if she got carried away. A nurse came through the door right then. She was a cute thing, with a very ample figure. Must have only been in her early twenties, fresh out of her

studies to work in the medical field. "Hello there, Darcy. I'm Trish. You wouldn't know me, of course, but I've been taking care of you a lot while you've been sleeping. Has he caught you up on anything at all yet?" "I didn't think the doctor wanted me to tell her too much. That's what he said to me the other day," said Speed. Trish cocked her head back like a chicken who'd just been thrown a difficult math problem. "I don't think he would have said that. There's no reason why you can't tell her anything about the accident. Her memory's bound to be a touch murky, so it's probably for the best if you do give her as many details as you can remember." She had walked over to Darcy's hospital bed and started to check pieces of machinery and make sure that cords and tubes were properly in place. Darcy had no idea about what she was actually doing, but it was nice to be getting attention to

make sure she was still doing well. "Did the doctor say if I'm going to be able to race again?" she asked. She had completely forgotten about riding and the race. The second the idea came back to her, Darcy was quite sure she hadn't wanted anything so badly in her life. If there was something wrong with her that meant no more competitive cycling, she might start to wish she'd never woken up out of the coma at all. "He didn't say anything to suggest that you won't be able to," replied the nurse. She bent down over Darcy, really close. Her big, round butt was perfectly angled so anyone else in the room would be able to see it beneath her uniform. It was not the type of uniform that people often associated with nurses. They didn't tend to wear those things anymore, opting for something more casual and less linked to the porn industry. Darcy watched Speed to see if he checked the nurse out. He didn't, not really. His eyes wondered for a second but that was more of a natural reaction, an instinct. All he

cared about was Darcy and making sure that she was going to recover from this without any ongoing issues. "So she should be able to race again, eventually I mean. Once she recovers," he said. His hand was resting on his knee but he moved it over to Darcy's hand and held it. "As far as we know, yes. That's assuming that nothing comes up out of the blue. Don't worry, because we've had plenty of time to make sure Darcy is healthy. "But being in a coma can do some weird things to you, can't it?" asked Darcy. "Only time can really tell us if there's anything we're not seeing, I'm afraid. Don't worry about it for now. Try to relax, and you'll have the best chance of making a full recovery. If things go well, you're going to be racing again in no time." The nurse put her hand on Darcy's shoulder and looked

at her with sympathy. "I'm terribly sorry about what happened during the race. I follow the sport a little and I saw what happened on the news. You're going to be just fine." "Thank you. That's very sweet," said Darcy. She blushed and felt like a celebrity for a moment. She was a minor celebrity, though, as far as she remembered. Hopefully her little bit of fame hadn't turned into infamy while she'd been unconscious. " If there's anything at all that you need, just press this button." She gestured to a hanging controller that had a few buttons on it, which was attached by a cord to the wall. "The doctor will be in to look at you soon. He's just started his rounds, so you might be waiting for up to an hour or so. I guess you've got a lot to catch up on anyway, by the sounds of things." She walked off after saying that, and closed the door behind her. Darcy hadn't realized it, but she had a private room. That private health insurance Speed's club

had paid for as part of the sponsorship was really welcome. Once the nurse was gone, Darcy said, "Tell me exactly what happened." "I will, but you need to promise that you'll stay calm. If you're going to lose your head over this, I'll just have to wait until later to give you all the details." "Deal. Come on, don't leave me waiting any more. What the hell did Aubrey do to me?" “It wasn't her, not necessarily. I mean, she did attack you, but there were other factors at play. Or other people I should say. Do you remember Steve coming up to you before the race started?" "No, I don't think so. Why would Steve want to talk to me? Did he attack me?" "He's not the one who attacked you, but he's the

real reason you ended up in the coma. He came up to talk to you about some shit. I can't figure out if he was telling the truth about what he said to you.” "He said he wished that he was still my coach…" uttered Darcy. She was taken aback by her own words. "I think he might have had feelings for me that went a bit beyond the professional realm. I don't think they were, y'know, romantic or anything. I don't know, though. It's confusing. It was like he wanted to be my father or something and look after me." "You remember all that suddenly?" asked Speed with great curiosity. Darcy shook her head slowly and had to think about it for a time. Finally, she thought she'd come up with an answer that might actually explain what had happened with Steve. "It's more of a feeling. I know he said he wanted to still be my coach, that memory is clear to me now. But the rest is just what I've pieced together in the time we've been

working together. It's not such a bad thing to treat someone like they're family, is it?" "Well if you think of someone like your own daughter, you don't drug them and risk their life. I know hardened criminals who wouldn't even go that low when taking out a snitch. Poisoning is the lowest of the low. Didn't even have the guts to confront you in person, so he had to sneak around." "Well, he did confront me once. That didn't go well. But take a step back there, babe. Did you say he poisoned me?" "Yes, I'm sorry but Steve put a serious toxin in the water that he gave you as a so-called peace offering. He started singing like a dirty canary as soon as the cops put him in a cell. Some hardened military man, huh? They have enough evidence to make sure he's not going to be free for a long time. That's attempted murder, to say the least." "Shit…I don't feel so good." Darcy's head had

started to swim and swell as soon as they'd begun to talk about the poisoning. It was almost like she could suddenly feel it seeping through her veins still, working toward her heart and brain to kill her. Speed said, "You gotta remember to take it easy. Do you want me to get that nurse back in here?" "Can I have a drink?" "Sure.” Speed went over to the sink and filled a plastic cup up with water. "Is tap water okay? I can go get you a bottle of water if you like. I'd rather not leave you alone, though." "You know what? I think I'm good with tap water right now. I honestly don't think I would feel like drinking a bottle of water. And I thought it was better for me to drink natural spring water." "It probably is, so long as it hasn't been tampered with by jealous assholes. I almost felt sorry for

Steve, too, but now I'm just glad he is going to get what's coming to him," he said, handing the cup to her. Darcy drank the water slowly at first, unsure about how well she would react to it. Then, she gulped down the rest of the liquid inside the tiny cup without thinking. It just flowed down her dry throat so easily. "That was so good. I didn't realize I was so thirsty. I didn't even think people could be that thirsty. Can I have another one, babe? Are there proper glasses, something bigger than these dinky little things?" She squeezed the empty cup and it flexed between her brittle fingers. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. The doctor did definitely tell me not to let you drink too much at once if you woke up. You'll need to wait until he comes and gives you a look over first. If it helps any, I promise to abstain from all forms of liquid until that moment comes." "You're such a funny guy now, aren't you? Forget

about it, I'll just have to wait, I guess. I feel better, though, so can we keep going with this twisted story? If I'm in hospital because of Steve poisoning me, what was up with Aubrey? Did I dream all of that?” Darcy felt her throat and there were still very real bruises around her neck where she vividly remembered Aubrey choking her on the racetrack. "You didn't dream that at all. Aubrey ran you off the road and yes, sorry, but she tried to strangle you. She’s seriously fucked in the head, sweetheart. She didn’t know what she was doing. I know you don't like me talking like that, but she is fucked up. You really can't blame her for what happened these past weeks. Anyone would have gone off the rails if they were dealing with the kind of problems she's been white knuckling through." “I always knew something was wrong with her. I should have gotten her to get help before it got this bad. What's wrong? When did all that happen? Is she okay now?”

“Don't blame yourself. There was no way you could have known how bad it was." "Oh, God, what are you going to tell me? Just say it quickly before I build up too much panic." “This is pretty heavy,” said Speed as he pulled up a chair beside Darcy’s hospital bed. “Just tell me she’s okay, for fuck sake, please.” “She’s going to be fine. But she has been officially diagnosed with schizophrenia. If you want more details, you'll have to find out later. Sorry, but I didn't want to pry into her personal affairs too much. On the brighter side, I made sure she treated well. Kept her from being taken away from the police, too. The best head shrinks are taking care of her, don’t worry. She’s in a hospital where they specialize in all that. It’s not even far from your place.”

“How the hell can she afford that?” “Let’s just say that The Wild Cards are sponsoring her to get better.” “Really? You are soft under all that muscle and bad language. I knew it all along, of course.” “Yeah, yeah, I’m a total pussy, whatever.” He pouted and shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with doing good things. It doesn’t make you soft; it makes you strong.” “Maybe…Just don’t go telling the rival MCs about it, okay? I don’t wanna have to bust any skulls to quiet them down.” “So tough,” she said. “Did they say when we can, y’know…?” “Don’t worry, it won’t come soon enough. You’ll be in here for a few more days, at least, from what

they said. I’m to tell the nurse that you’re awake, actually.” He kissed her and stood up. “I’m glad you’re awake, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.” “Wait,” she tried to yell but couldn’t manage the volume. Speed stopped in the doorway and waited for her to speak. “Who ended up qualifying?” “No one. They cancelled the race when it turned to pure shit. All the other riders were behind you and Aubrey, of course. You were winning when she rammed you off the road. They stopped to try and help. You fairy cyclists aren’t so bad.” “Does that mean…” “That means they’ve rescheduled the whole thing for two months from the original race. You’ll have plenty of time to give it another try. If you want to, that is.” “Are you serious? Of course I do!” She coughed at the effort of yelling out, but it was worth it.

Everything was going to finally come together like it should have in the first place.

Chapter Twenty Six The rest of the guys went home that night. They'd hinted at maybe hanging around and waiting to see if things were okay. Speed could tell they were just offering to be polite. Of course they would have stayed, but there wasn't any need for it. He sent Larry a text to give them the all clear to leave. He didn't really want the boys coming back to the hospital after they'd been drinking beer down at the bar near the hospital anyway. So, that left him nearly alone with Darcy for the first time in a long time. That is, with her being awake. The night nurse, an older and less pleasant sort, poked her head in occasionally to take some readings. Apart from that, however, they were left alone in the private hospital room. It was a pretty nice little spot for Darcy to recover, and Speed was glad he'd chosen a life of crime. It had allowed him to gather enough money to take care

of what he thought was important. She was more than just important. Money couldn't buy real happiness but it sure as shit helped out. Anyone who said money didn't matter was a lying sack of shit, or they just had so much money they didn't appreciate it any more. Speed wasn’t going anywhere. Leaving Darcy’s side was not an option in his mind. If something happened, he’d be there to make sure those doctors did everything in their power to make it all right. Besides, he’d really missed her while she’d been unconscious. And spending the whole time wondering if she was actually going to wake up had made it even more difficult to bear. On the outside he was total steel, resolved and quick to make decisions. On the inside, though, he often had a fire burning that was barely kept under control. The pain of that would get too much sometimes, like when there were things going on he couldn't control outside of himself. Darcy being in a coma was one of those things. The doctors couldn't even do anything to get her to snap out of it, so there was

fuck all he could have done. Nobody likes being helpless. Bikers are no different. A lot of them go into that lifestyle because they want to feel like they're in command, able to push people around and take what they want. Just like everyone else, even the hardest of them is secretly scared about what is going to happen to them that they will not be able to control. Speed was one of the best and worst of the bikers in the country. There were meaner, and there were smarter, but he held his own in each of those regards. Some people thought that what made Speed an exceptional MC president was his ability to slip seamlessly between being bad, and being good. He knew when it was time to put down the baseball bat or gun, and use his fucking head to sort things out for a change. What no one realized was that Speed's soft heart was the real reason he'd been such a passionate and able leader. He knew how to connect with people without making himself

vulnerable. Keeping people from ever guessing what he was thinking and feeling had become such an integral asset in his daily life; Speed wasn't even aware he was such an emotional person. Hatred, anger, hurting. Those were the only emotions he thought that were worth keeping in check. Usually he would make sure they didn't get out of control. When the time came, though, he needed to unleash them so things could get done. It kept people from walking all over him, and it made sure he was feared by people who might otherwise try to cross him. Compassion, empathy, love. These other emotions were just as powerful in Speed as the negative ones. They weren't as developed or refined because he hadn't been exercising them. But they were strong. Darcy had helped him to see what the world could be like, and he had to admit to himself that he enjoyed it. Speed would share this with Darcy, too, once she was recovered. It was a difficult thing for him to acknowledge consciously,

let alone talk about with another person. But he figured she was definitely the one to discuss it all with. One day… It had all been a bit much for him to handle, with his newly found emotional side. In fact, the only person who could make him feel normal now was Darcy. Just being beside her and knowing she was going to be awake later made him feel like a million bucks, relatively speaking. If only he could get all this other crap out of his head and be normal for a while, it'd be great. That would all work out soon enough. It wasn't going to happen automatically, but equilibrium would come back eventually. He wondered if he'd still be an MC president in the future. Any other sort of life was hard to imagine, and they needed to money right now more than ever. Darcy would need help to get back on her feet. If they were going to recover her cycling career, that went double. It was funny how this person both weakened and strengthened him at the same time. It

made him laugh, though, how only a woman could do two things that were directly opposite, at the exact same time. The hospital only allowed one family member to stay, and only as long as they didn’t sleep there. Since he wasn’t family, he’d been left with no choice but to grease the wheels a little, help things work in his way. He’d quietly slipped the night nurse a crisp bill to look the other way if he stayed the night. Was that in line with turning legit? He didn’t think there was any crime in helping out a hard working nurse with extra money, so he could bend a rule that didn’t seem to matter. No, Speed planned to stay at the hospital until Darcy was able to leave. "Fuck…" he mumbled with a breath. All of that thinking and nothing to do but sit and wait. It was liable to turn his brain to mush. It was best to find something to take his mind off things. Darcy made a noise in her sleep and rolled over a bit. Maybe she would wake up soon.

Then she started to snore a little. It was cute and kind of funny. But it didn't look like she was going to wake up any time soon. Speed went for a walk around the hospital. Walking around the hospital at night was like being a very strange ghost town. There were still a lot of people there, even though they weren't usually out and about in the halls and common areas. The odd doctor or nurse was going about their business. At least that's what they appeared to be in their uniforms with nametags and clipboards. What a different world they were living in. Speed didn't think much about the other side of humanity. That is, the people who did "normal" things to make a living, instead of being in an outlaw gang of motorcycle riding thugs. There were some vending machines by one of the entrances. People were out there away from the automatic doors with their cigarettes, or talking on mobile phones. The air wasn't cold but it wasn't

warm either inside the hospital. Stagnant might have been a better word to describe it. The idea that Darcy might not wake up kept haunting him, not matter how much Speed told himself he wasn't worried. She'd come out of the coma and everything was going to be just fine. That was the only possible outcome. By the vending machines there was a light coming out of an open set of double doors. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a gift store that hadn't closed up for the evening yet. "Brighter Tomorrow Gifts and Flowers" read the sign painted on the glass. Speed walked inside and immediately felt kind of silly for being there. People who didn't really care about who they were buying for went to gift stores right inside the hospital like that. All they had were greeting cards with fake sentiments and lame jokes. There were also bright flowers that were already dying before you even handed over way too much money for them. "Shit," he said.

"Excuse me?" said the old man behind the counter. It didn't look like he'd actually heard what Speed said. "Did you need some help with anything, son?" "I don't know if you've got what I need help with." "Were you looking for a bouquet of flowers? Or are you here seeing a young’un? There are stuffed animals and coloring books over there on that rack, or plenty of toys to choose from." "No, I'm not seeing a kid." Things could be worse, like having a child in the hospital. "I guess I'll get a bunch of flowers. What's the nicest you've got?" "Well, that would be this, but it costs fifty bucks," said the old man. He was gesturing over to a huge bunch of flowers, purples, reds, whites, some yellow for accents. And the ribbons on it were in a fancy pattern. "That looks like she'd love it," said Speed.

"Is this for your lady?" asked the old man with a little smile now on the edges of his lips. "Yeah. She's been in a coma for a week. She just woke up today. Now she's taking a nap." Speed didn't know why he was telling the old guy these details like they knew each other or something. "That's got to have been hard on you. From the looks of you, I'd say maybe you're worried she might not wake up again? If you don't mind my saying." "You can say whatever you like. It's a free country," Speed answered, getting his wallet out of his pocket and shuffling out a crisp hundred-dollar bill. "You are right, though. I'm worried that when I go back into that room, she's not going to wake up again." "She'll wake up," said the old man, taking the money and walking over to the cash register.

"Don't you worry about it." "I wish I had that kind of optimism. I would usually agree with you on something I was trying to achieve. This is different." "How so?" The man keyed in the purchase of the flowers and the register chimed. He slid the money in and removed Speed's change. The receipt printed out with a jarring noise. "I have confidence in things that need to get done. When I'm in charge, I know I can make things happen. This waiting around, wondering, it's a lot harder." "You feel helpless. I understand that, believe me. When you get to be my age, you lose control of a lot of things that happen in your life. It's not going to change as time goes on. But you have to assume she's going to wake up and everything is going to work out fine. Otherwise you'll spend your whole life worried sick; if things do work out, you'll have

wasted your life anyway. "I'll have to think on that. Thanks anyway." He paid his money and took the flowers. "Thanks," he said. A small group of young adults were standing around in the hallway when he left the gift store. He watched them laughing as they chose what to buy from the vending machines. They still had their whole lives to look forward to. Speed felt old, much older than he was. Life had been moving on without him and he didn't even realize it was happening. This might have been the first time he'd felt like a real person for years, but it was bizarre and numbing. On the other side of his brain, all he could do was wish he had not picked up the biggest bunch of flowers they had, packed with all sorts of colors and smells. It felt fruity walking around with the thing, but he didn’t think anyone would look the wrong way at him in his Wild Cards jacket. That emblem on the back helped to keep a barrier

between himself and the world, and that was just how Speed liked things. Sure enough, not one of those kids even glanced at him as he walked by. Speed was untouchable. He’d only let in the people who were worth his time, like his boys, and Darcy. When he went back to her room, she was awake, awake and beaming with her pearly whites. What a gorgeous smile. He wanted to shout with joy. "I think it's even better to see you awake now than it was today." "What are you talking about? You weren't worrying yourself while I was having my nap, were you?" "Maybe just a little. You better not do anything stupid like not wake up. The doctor said you'd be okay, so that's what you need to be." "Well if something does happen to me, you can kick his ass for me, okay?" "I don't know if I'd go that far. Might make me feel

better about it, though. Oh, I bought you these flowers,” he said, figuring she was smiling because she saw her gift. “I love you, Darcy, and I want you to get well fast.” “Thank you, baby. Yes, I’m smiling at the flowers. You’re sweet. But I'm also happy because I wrote something for you, when I woke up and realized you weren’t here. Figured I should use the time productively, right?” “What’s that?” He pulled up a chair next to her and crouched in over the laptop that was resting on her lap. It was her blog, the section about his club that she updated regularly. “I thought the public should know about the heroic biker president who not only saved my life from a sadistic and jealous ex-coach, who drugged me and went out of his way to ensure I’d never race again, but also the good natured hero who’s also paying Aubrey’s bills for the finest psychiatric center in Denver.”

“Shit, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever written, or even said, about me. I haven't done much to deserve it, I know. Still, it means a lot. Thanks, sweetheart…” He didn’t know what else to say. If he had said much more, he was worried that he’d start crying like a little girl, and that wasn’t about to happen. No fucking way. “And look,” Darcy continued, “see all these comments below my new post? A lot of them are people who want your club to sponsor them, too." She slid the laptop over so he could pick it up and have a closer look. "These people want my boys to work on their cars. How did they even know we do that kind of thing?" "The blog. You haven't read it all, have you? I don't blame you with everything that's been going on. I stopped showing you every post a few weeks back. There was just too much and I didn't want to bother you."

"I would have taken the time, but fair enough. Hey, look at this one. These companies want us to take care of security jobs. Hell, I know some of the boys would love doing that kind of thing. They'd probably even do it for free, not that we're going to." "And I've been getting emails from people where they've mentioned the prices they'd be willing to pay. I guess having bikers work for you is chic or something, now? I never thought I'd see the day. But Speed, this is all legitimate business. Isn't this what you've been hoping for?" “You're right. Wow,” Speed said, catching his breath and steeling his macho resolve. He cleared his throat and smiled. “This could very well set The Wild Cards up for life as a legit club. I’ve had my suspicions for a while now, I guess you really are the best thing that’s ever happened to me; I know you are. Come here.” He got down on his knees beside her and held Darcy in his arms,

pulling himself into her with care, tenderly kissing her right about where her heart was. "I love you, Darcy," he said into her chest. "I love you, too."

Chapter Twenty Seven It only took a week for Darcy to recover enough to go riding. That had been a tough week, even more so for Speed. Darcy didn't think the lug had it in him to show so much tenderness and support. Brute strength and protection? Sure, he had that in spades. But actually bringing himself down to the level of caregiver and giving up the egotistical tropes that came along with being a "real man" was impressive. "You sure this is a good idea?" he asked her yet again. They were back on the road, where Darcy had spent so many hours pushing herself to the physical and mental limits of her very being. It was a sacred place to her, one she delighted in sharing with him. "You spoke to the specialists yourself, many, many times. They must be sick of the sight of you and the

sound of your voice. You were lucky they didn't block your phone number by the time I got out of there." Darcy spun the pedal around on her bicycle. It was a new bike, a nicer one, too. The other one had been totaled in the crash and no one wanted to see the thing again anyway. They'd raffled it off to some fan who thought that kind of thing was cool to have around, and given the proceeds to charity. Speed smirked. "I would have only gone in there in person if they'd done that. Hey, I paid top dollar for that private health insurance, so we should get our money's worth." "They wouldn't have put up with that kind of thing in private. Believe me, I know." "I didn't always have this much cash either. I know how they treat you there. But you're too good for that kind of half-ass treatment. You deserve better than the best." He patted her on the ass like she was a prize horse.

Darcy loved it when Speed acted like that. She always thought she'd hate being with a man who could dominate her, and take whatever he wanted. There just weren't a lot of guys who acted like that, unless they were still scared little boys on the inside. Yeah, Speed was a sensitive guy under all those muscles and tats. He just wasn't a boy. He was a modern man. Darcy was worried she'd lose interest in him if he ever stopped being such a bastard, but that is not how things turned out at all. "Okay, then," she said, taking him in with her eyes. "You ready to see your injured baby leave the nest?" "If you were still hurt, I wouldn't let you." "Do you really think anything would stop me from riding again?" "You're not just going to ride, sweetheart. You're going to win that fucking frog race.

Speed had rushed out and bought the best bike he could find. He'd actually bought several of them so Darcy would have a choice when she got out of hospital. He had so much faith in her to win the Tour de France that she felt guilty about doubting herself. She smiled as she rode along, not pushing herself again to the outer limit. While she did want to see if she had lost anything after being in the hospital, Darcy wasn't going to do anything stupid. The anxious looks Speed had been throwing after her as she rode away were enough to make her mind up. But being silly and falling or injuring something now would be disastrous. Just riding again was good enough. That wind flowing around her like a cocoon of rushing energy, the way it wrapped her up but allowed her to be completely free at the same time. There was more to riding than most people would ever realize. Even a lot of the hottest competition didn't

seem to grasp what they had in their lives. This was more than just some sport. And the contest of trying to be the best was more like icing on the cake. It wasn't the whole cake, though, not the most essential part of it. The recent events had given her a new appreciation for her skills and talents, the opportunity that was ahead of her. Riding was absolutely important in her life, and nothing should ever mess that up – she knew this now more than ever. Things had gotten bad quickly. Luck helped to keep them from getting even worse. She could have easily died instead of just going to the hospital for a relatively short time. Where luck had failed to do its thing, Speed had been there to sweep her away and protect her. That the qualifying race for the Tour de France had been rescheduled due to the turmoil that had gone on was nothing less than a blessing. Darcy didn't believe in a higher power. Her religion was cycling and treating her body as a temple. It was

hard to deny that something at least as powerful as a divine presence had taken her to this point. Again, luck was the only force Darcy could chalk it up to without feeling superstitious. And again, it was luck and Speed that were to thank. Such a brimming smile as Darcy road along. Full of so much rekindled joy at simply being back over those two spinning pedals. There was only one thing that could have ever added to that smile, and that was the roar of the motorbike behind her as she rode. It was her strong, level-headed biker man watching out for her, keeping pace in more ways than one. Damn it, Darcy’s life could only get better in one more way: winning the Tour de France. But she still needed to qualify for that to happen. That meant training hard again. While the ride was good to loosen the dust that had built up while she was in hospital, it was not a training day, not yet. In fact, there was a specific

destination waiting at the end of this ride. She would be back at that stage in the hopefully-near future, but there was someone Darcy needed to take care of before she could put her heart and body fully back into riding. Yes, today was even more important than the big race. Darcy didn't hold much closer to her heart than cycling. There was only her family and friends. Aubrey had been essentially a part of both of these groups ever since Darcy cared to think back. Now she was held up in a mental institution, probably scared half to death about what might happen to her in the future. The facility would come into view soon and Darcy started to prepare herself for everything she had wanted to say. Over and over, she'd gone through what Aubrey might need to hear, and how to go about mending a friendship that had gotten to a place such anger and even hatred. Was that hatred real? Darcy had realized Aubrey's mental illness might have only been the catalyst for her actions in

the end. There was a very real possibility that she truly did hold feelings of animosity for Darcy. The friendship might have already been dead a long time ago, for all she knew. Sweat started to pool in all the usual places, and the riding had not been particularly vigorous. Darcy had been holding back for a lot of the journey. Any time she'd started to take it too far and push herself to her limit, Speed had revved the engine of his hog and slowed himself down. He would until Darcy also brought her bicycle back to a more sensible pace before he would continue keeping pace for her as normal. Having someone behind her trying to take over and boss her around was irritating. Darcy didn't like being told what to do unless it was in the bedroom. It was all in good fun then and make things more exciting. Still, she closed her eyes quickly and told herself Speed was only trying to do what a good coach would do. He didn't want her to try and force her body to recover too quickly. Doing that

would only lead to a permanent break from competing. Speed didn't get his kicks from ordering people around. He only did it when they were looking to him for leadership, as they did in his club. Or, when logic dictated he intervene and tell someone they were making a stupid mistake. They were nearly at the place. Darcy knew because she's studied to route for a good half hour the previous night. This wasn't a day of training, but she figured she could at least treat it like one, sort of, at least. She wanted to know all of the bends, turns, ups and downs. Even though Speed had made it difficult for her to act like she was preparing for a race, she was still able to practice all of her strategic thinking skills for racing. Darcy was getting ready to slow down so they could make the turn up ahead. The engine that had been roaring so gloriously behind her faltered like there was something wrong with it. Speed had cut his speed down and quickly dropped back behind Darcy. She turned her head around to get a fast

glance at what he was doing. He'd stopped and pulled up on the side of the road but he wasn't giving her any visual cues about what might be going on. She stopped and turned around to ride to him. “What’s wrong?” she asked after she’d turned back and rode over to him. He was off his bike already, but didn’t seem worried about anything. “Your bike’s okay, isn’t it?” She knew how much he loved that bike. It had already needed repairs after Speed had leapt off it to come to her rescue. “Everything’s golden,” he said. "Well what are we stopping for?" "I just wanted to show you something," he said with a cheeky smile trying not to show itself behind his austere expression. There was something going on but he was doing a good job of containing whatever he was up to.

Maybe he'd planned a special picnic. There was an expanse of green stretching around them on either side of the road. A creek was evening running along the base of the hills beneath the blue horizon. There was so much beauty in the world that it was almost criminal how often people were too busy rushing along to stop and enjoy it. "Wow," she said as she walked her bike away from the road and stood it up beside a fence post. Speed was doing something weird for sure. But all Darcy could think about was the majesty of the natural world that had just hit her over the head like a golden weight. For a minute or two she just breathed deeply and rested her body, which wasn't used to being so active again yet. She actually forgot all about why they might be there in the first place, let herself simply exist as a being of the planet for once. Darcy hadn't been taking in the scenery while riding, though. She was more interested on the road

itself and taking her aching joints and muscles for a test drive. It didn't occur to her just how immense in beauty some of these back roads were. "I didn't notice how nice it is out here. I hope Aubrey's getting a chance to enjoy the scenery, too." Then, the part of reality that is human drama snapped her out of it with a burning desire to know something. "What are you up to?" she said, yanking herself back from the distraction of the pretty surrounding. "Darcy," he said at last. He was standing back from her at an odd distance. If this were meant to be a romantic stop, he surely would have been all over her already. The thought of doing it out there would enticing. Maybe they would be able to come back and get a quickie in after they had finished visiting with Aubrey. But if things didn't go well, she might not want to. "Yes?" she responded with unsure excitement. "You have to tell me what you're plotting, mister. This is driving me crazy."

"The last thing I want to do is drive you crazy," he said. "In fact, since the first time I met you that has been the furthest thing from my agenda. It was just physical right away, but that's all I had to go on before we actually got a chance to talk. You sure didn't like me, I know. But that's not—" "What's with the speech?" she asked. Darcy knew what this might be leading to and the anticipation was making her feel anxious. Speed was going to announce something big. It could be a number of things. Maybe it was to do with the sponsorship and Darcy's riding career. He might even be telling her he's going to leave his life as a biker so he can go completely straight. She didn't know how she felt about that, though. There were so many things rushing through her head and it wasn't a good time for Speed to drop anything huge on her. "Darcy?" he said. That's when she realized that he had continued

talking but the words had gone completely over her head. "Oh, sorry baby. My mind's been racing all day." "And I don't blame you for that. Things have been crazy. My attempt at this whole speech thing has also been pretty dismal. You know what? There's no sense in trying to put on an act like I'm someone else. This isn't a movie anyway.” Getting down on one knee and pulling a small, black box out of his club jacket’s pocket. “Let me tell you why I stopped here. Darcy, I wanted to do this right. I don’t think there’s anywhere more right for you or me, than out on the road, riding. The sun, the asphalt, nature whizzing by but always there. This is how I always want us to be, soaring together. I thought I had everything until the first time I saw you. After that, you only pulled me in deeper and you never even had to try. It was natural, so I guess I’m saying this is meant to be. I don’t buy into all that shit, you know that, but I’m not stupid enough to let the perfect woman ever leave me.”

“What are you saying?” “Will you marry me?” He opened the box and showed her a ring that must have cost more than most people’s houses. Holy fucking shit was what went through her mind but she was glad that she managed to hold the thought back from her vocal cords. “Yes!” was all she did say. Speed put her new engagement ring on her finger, and they kissed for a long time. Arousal tingled at their extremities but they couldn't miss out on their appointment to see Aubrey. "I wish we had time to make the most of that secluded clearing behind those trees." "You know I wish the same thing. I can't let you miss talking to Aubrey, though. This is important for the both of you. Closure and all that shit, right?"

"Let's hope that nothing's going to be closing, though, let alone our friendship." After that, she said, "I thought you were no good at giving speeches. I can't believe you planned this whole thing and I had no idea. I thought you might have a business announcement or something. That was the most touching thing I've ever heard. Thank you, Speed, thank you! I love you! " "I love you so much, Darcy." “I gotta say, I never thought someone would ask me to marry them when I was out on the road, all sweaty and gross from riding my ass off.” She was suddenly glad they weren't going to have time to get intimate behind the trees. Being sweaty and dirty hadn't stopped them before. It seemed different now that they were engaged, though. Darcy felt like she had a lot more to lose now than she did five minutes ago. “Sweetheart, out on the road is how you were born to be. You’ve never been more perfect, as far as I

can see. Don’t change a thing.” “I promise. But I think I’d like a shower before I properly thank you for this insane diamond ring, if you know what I mean.” “Oh, I know,” he said.

With a strong air of doubt hanging around them about what would happen at the meeting, they headed to the facility. It was a nice place, too, not easy to guess how much Speed might have been spending to allow Aubrey to stay there. Darcy hadn't asked him out right what it was costing. She didn't pry into his financial or business affairs because there was no need. "I knew this place was expensive but I didn't realize how nice it really is," she said as they entered the front gate. There was a security guard in one of those little booths, making sure no one came or went through the iron gate without the right

permissions. He was efficient but courteous, and not at all like the guards Darcy had usually encountered outside of places. "You care so much about Aubrey even after what happened. I knew you'd never forgive me if she wound up in a government funded home or prison. Was I right?" "Not to sound ungrateful, but you're damn right I wouldn't have forgiven you. I know you can afford it, though." She nudged Speed with her elbow playfully. Darcy liked the fact that her man was rolling in the money, but didn't have to go around making a big deal about it. Aubrey was waiting for them in her room when they got there. A nice lady who was dressed all in white lead them through the facility. "She's in here. Say hello and see how she's feeling. If you like, and if she's up to it, you can go and spend some time together in one of our lovely common areas.” Her voice was melodic velvet floating through the

air. If everyone there was so calming, it was no wonder Aubrey had apparently been doing better already. "Darcy!" she called out with excitement. It looked like she was going to jump up from the chair where she sat by the window. Then, a sense of embarrassment overtook her overt eagerness. Her face went red and tears pooled up over her eyes. "Oh, Darcy…I'm so, so," but she couldn't finish what she was saying. "Aubrey, honey, please don't cry," said Darcy. She walked over and put her arms around her friend to hug her. At first it startled Aubrey, whose eyes were blurred by her crying so much that she mustn't have been able to see clearly. But then she eased into the hug and clung to Darcy. Darcy almost chuckled from the awkwardness of it all. She didn't know what to say. Things weren't as

natural as they had been only a few months earlier. The friendship had been battered and abused, leaving her unsure about how to pick it back up so quickly. She had not expected something like this. Yelling, accusations, guilt, those are more the type of things she'd been anticipated on the way out there. After a few minutes, the tears had mostly subsided and been replaced by just occasional sobs. "Hey, hey, look at me," Darcy said and pulled herself back so she could look Aubrey in the eye. "I'm sorry." "I know you are. So am I." "What do you have to be sorry about? I tried to… it's too horrible to even talk about," said Aubrey. She pulled back and took a seat on her single bed, white bed cover, neatly made. "Look at me. I'm too pathetic to face up to what I did."

"You're not pathetic," said Speed. She looked over at him as though he'd been invisible up until he spoke. Aubrey didn't know where to look once she'd done that. "Speed, I don't know, you must think…you both came to see me. I can't believe you would even want to," she said. "Of course we wanted to," said Darcy. "They've told us about your diagnosis and what you've been going through, Aubrey. A lot of people wouldn't have been able to keep it together for as long as you did. I mean, you were dealing with a serious thing for so long, and you were such a big inspiration to me the whole time. I say you're a lot tougher than anyone I know." "I agree there," added Speed with caution. He was trying not to say the wrong thing, which was a rare act for him. "You've always been so good to me, Darcy. These last months, I don't know what went wrong. Well, I

guess we all know what went wrong. It doesn't feel like that was me. That probably sounds like a lame excuse for being an evil bitch, right?" "I don't care if you were being an evil bitch, which you weren't. You needed help, Aubrey. It really wasn't you doing that. There's no way my real best friend would ever do anything to hurt me. You'd never do anything like that. I love you." "I love you, too, Darcy. And, Speed, I'm sorry for the position I put you in. I hope you can find a way to think of me as a normal person again in time, not the crazy woman who was stalking you." "Consider it forgotten, Aubrey. I know you're a sweet girl. Believe me, I've known enough bad people to realize when someone's got a good heart. Besides, without you around, Darcy would want to spend all of her free time with me. A guy's gotta have his man time." He laughed a bit, but wasn't sure if that had been a mutually funny thing to say, and cut off the little laugh short. Aubrey and Darcy

both smiled but more out of politeness than anything else. He added, "Do you two want some time to talk by yourself? I have a feeling things would be a little more natural if I went for a ride." "That might be good," said Darcy as she tried to gauge Aubrey's preference from her facial expression. "Yeah, I think that's probably a good idea, babe." She cringed after calling Speed babe in front of Aubrey. She might be working to get over what had happened, but the idea of seeing those two being all lovey-dovey would still have to be hard to swallow.

“I’m so sorry,” Aubrey said again when Speed got back and it was time for Darcy and him to leave. “I hope you can forgive me for the way I acted…both of you.” She glanced at Speed nervously as she added that last part, and her cheeks went red. “That wasn’t the real me, I know it now. Thank you so much for getting me the help I’ve been needing.”

“Oh, Aubrey, you don’t have to be sorry. I should have picked up on the signs. What a shitty friend, huh?” “Hopefully you can both move past this now,” said Speed. He’d been acting weird since they entered the building. Going to a place that locks people away for acting different wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time. It could have just been all the emotions that had been bubbling up inside of him lately. Darcy knew he was going through some deep changes and probably found it hard to deal with them. “You two are perfect together. And I think we’ll be okay,” said Aubrey, as she hugged Darcy goodbye and kissed Speed on the cheek in a sisterly way. “I think so, too,” said Darcy.

Chapter Twenty Eight Everyone was there to see what happened one year later. Speed and Aubrey were waiting at the finish line beside each other. They'd been getting along like good friends and all the weirdness of the past was largely forgotten. They weren't going to be going out for coffee with just the two of them any time soon, but that wasn't the kind of thing Speed was into anyway. Darcy and Aubrey's relationship had strengthened back to the solid bond it had always been. It might have actually been stronger. They knew what they had to lose if they weren't careful, which made them work extra hard to be good to each other. Darcy’s parents were there, too – had come all the way from their retirement home in Florida for this most special of occasions. "This is all so exciting," said Sharleen, Darcy's mom. "I can't believe I might actually see my daughter win the Tour de

France!" She was practically vibrating with her excitement and could not stop letting out little gasps of delight. She was a cute old lady, kind of chubby which was surprising given Darcy's obsession with fitness. Her proud father, Maurice, followed her riding career fastidiously but was brewing his proud more subtly. "Hold on, Sharleen," Maurice said, "I'm trying to hear how the race is going." "What are you talking about? You can see it right there on the screen. They're going to be coming through the finishing line any minute. We can see them in person then." "I still want to hear the commentators over the loud speaker, dear," he muttered. Speed was standing beside them but wasn't going out of his way to talk unless spoken to. He had a lot of respect for the people who were responsible for bringing his wife into the world. The last thing

he planned to do was say the wrong thing by mistake and offend them. It had already taken a good six months before they would even accept the fact that Darcy was dating a biker. Yeah, he was still in The Wild Cards, but they'd gone completely legit now. There were no more crimes being committed by any of its members, not that Speed was aware of, at least, and that was the best he could do. He actually got along quite well even with Sharleen in the end. Even though Darcy’s mom and dad were hesitant about letting the tattooed biker into their lives, they tried to keep open minds. As soon enough saw the good he did for their daughter and the lengths he would go to for her, it was hard to dislike Speed. He was a handsome man, as well, making it even harder for Sharleen to keep hating him. And what parent could continue to ignore a man who loved their daughter so deeply? All of the money he had helped to win Maurice over, too. He was a pragmatic man who knew a

husband needed to be able to provide for a family, and that was well within the reach of Speed. With all the crime in the past, things were looking pretty good to Darcy's parents. “There she is!” cried out Aubrey, jumping up and down. She'd been acting like it was her race to win the whole time. In a way, it was. Although she’d chosen not to go back to competing, she had been at every one of Darcy’s races over the past year, ever since she got out of the hospital that is. The mental institution had been legally required to keep her for almost the full year. They didn't take attempted murder lightly. Since Steve had been the one who'd talked her into it and set everything up, they were somewhat lenient on her. She'd been manipulated when her head was already completely messed up. Things weren't really her fault. “Yes, yes, come on sweetheart!” Speed cheered out along with the rest of them as Darcy rocketed

across the finishing line, just inches ahead of the next rider. “Has she done it?” asked Darcy’s mother. “Yes!” answered Aubrey, Darcy came flying over that finish line and she'd never looked more radiant. It had really happened. "I can't believe it!" yelled Aubrey, but it was almost impossible to hear over the rest of the people in the crowd. It was thick with spectators from all over the planet and they all had Darcy in their sights. She was their new golden girl, the one who they would compare future competitors against. At least that's what would happen until the next big race came along. There was nothing bigger than the Tour, so the others would have to wait until that came again to try and take the glory from Darcy.

It was unprecedented, considering how Darcy was completely unknown just years earlier. After the whole incident at the qualifying race the previous year, however, things had started to change for her. Sponsors started to beg to support her, but there was no need. Sure, the extra money was welcome, but no one else would become her leading sponsor. Speed’s club held that position tightly, and they offered something more than just money. There was a sense of family and belonging Darcy got from Speed and his The Wild Cards. They were still rough riders, but they’d all learned better, even easier, ways to make money, by doing it legit.

After winning the Tour de France, Darcy got that international recognition she’d been craving since high school. No one could ever take away what she'd achieved. Even if that were the highest point in her riding career, it would be more than enough. She felt that she could have died and been completely happy about her own life's work. Not that she would want to miss out on a single moment

the future held for Speed and her. He still had a lot of love and passion to give to her. Darcy even got to go on all the most popular talk shows, to discuss her rise to fame, and success in the cycling world. At that point in all the hype and publicity, she'd actually forgotten the name of the talk show she was on next. There was something new each day and her agent would call her up to tell her where she needed to be for the following event. The life was starting to get to here and it wasn't leaving any time for riding. "You don't need to train right now, darling," said Hannah, her middle-aged agent with the big city accent. "Don't you get it: you've already made the big time. You'll have plenty of time to prepare before the next big race, but all those small time competitions are behind you now." "I need some time to get back to basics, Hannah. I'm a cyclist and that's what I have to do. This has been so amazing and I love what you've done for

me. Really, I am grateful for all the attention and the adoration from the fans. But riding is a part of who I am. Without the time to do that, there's a piece of me missing. Come on, what talk show host wants to have a guest on their show who isn't even a whole person?" Hannah laughed but it was forced, for show to pamper the famous riding star. "You've got a lovely way with words, really. You can see how everyone wants to have their turn talking to you? What TV host wouldn't want you on their show? Look, after this next round of bookings, you're going to be able to do your own thing for a little while. Take that hot piece of husband you've got and get away somewhere nice. You want me to book you something?" "No, I just want to go back home. We bought that orchard so we could go and live a peaceful life now that I've achieved my dream. I'm going to have to pull back from the spotlight soon, okay?"

"You've got my word on it. Just do your thing and charm the rest of the bastards, okay? I know you'll do me proud, darling." So Darcy did the rest of the shows, appearances, magazine features, and more. It was a good month more before she was finally at the last appearance. It was on the Jacky show, the latest hit that all the networks wished they could get their hands on. The host was in her early forties and looked like she could still be thirty. She was beautiful, charming, but also had a way of cutting right to people's centers if they got on her bad side. “There’s one thing that I think everyone in our audience wants to talk about, especially the ladies,” said Jacky. She had perfect hair as always, styled up tonight but a little fancy. She was wearing a red power suit that had a kind of sci-fi feel to it. It didn't matter what she wore because the fans always adored her. And she looked good anyone.

Darcy had been intimidated at first and held herself back so that she didn't make a wrong move or say something to earn Jacky's ire. “Tell us more about your husband, the sexy biker man with a heart of gold.” “Oh, I wouldn’t say his heart’s gold,” said Darcy. She was dressed like a million bucks in designer clothes that had been given to her for free. Her eyes were wide with the sparkle of a winner. “He’s definitely all flesh and blood, but he sure is a real man.” Every woman, and some of the men, in the audience made a swooning sound and clapped. “And what woman wouldn’t want to find out just how big that flesh was, am I right ladies in the audience?” “Well, you’ll just have to stick with your fantasies, because he’s all mine.” She flashed her wedding ring, a solid gold band with a small Wild Card’s

emblem tastefully engraved on it. “I can see that. Sorry, gals, Speed’s taken. But there’s talk of a book deal, is that right? A tale about the previously diminutive cyclist with big dreams, and the muscular biker who won her heart, and helped her achieve those dreams. Could you tell us more about the book launch, Darcy?” It turned out Jacky was a big fan of Darcy and Speed. After they'd cut to commercial, she asked Darcy some private questions. "Do you think your husband would be interested in coming on the show? You don't have to be with him if you'd rather not." "You're not the first person to ask. Sorry, Jacky, but he's got a firm policy against stepping into the eye of the public. There's nothing that could tempt him." "But what if you were to ask him to do it?"

"I wouldn't want to try to change him."

Once all of that commotion had finally died down, and Darcy had finished all the interviews and appearances, she and Speed flew out to their villa in the French countryside. It was not too far removed from the romantic excitement of Paris. They enjoyed heading into the city for secluded sessions of decadent food and drink, followed or preceded by hidden bouts of public sex. They thought they were obsessed with fucking each other's brains out before. That was nothing compared to the fun the now married couple had the time and money to get up to. Their new home was still far enough to get away from it all. Europe wasn't such a huge place compared to a country like the United States, after all. What seemed like a brief trip back home would take you into a whole new country over the water. It was a quaint place — quaint, but far from small— standing at the top of a hill that

overlooked a large orchard. Neither of them had any interest in becoming farmers or working too hard out in the sun. They allowed some locals to use the land in exchange for a sample of their high quality produce when it was harvest time. Speed and Darcy were more interested in going for long rides through the countryside, when they weren't destined for Paris. Speed had taken up cycling as a hobby. Darcy had bought herself one badass fucker of a motorcycle. They were like one person in so many ways that it was hard to think about their extreme differences. “You happy?” Speed said to her, walking up to the balcony where his wife had been looking out at the late afternoon sky. “I didn’t think I could ever be this happy,” she answered. Speed put her arms around her and nestled his chin onto her shoulder. “Me neither,” he said.

They stood and enjoyed the breathtaking sunset, without saying much. They didn’t find the need to talk all the time, which had been a strength in their marriage so far. Darcy and Speed finally had everything they could have ever hoped for. Speed didn’t even realize that this was what he’d been looking for, and not more booze, sluts, and ways to make dirty money. All he’d needed all along was someone who would love him for who he was, without lowering themselves to what he used to be. Darcy never thought in a million years that she’d end up taming one of the most notorious MC presidents in the country. She always knew there were great things ahead of her, since she first decided to make a go and being a professional cyclist. But she had never considered that the best thing she’d do in life would have more to do with a motorbike rider than cycles.

“Hey, do you wanna go for a ride?” Speed said once the sky was dark and stars were twinkling above them. It was too dark to go racing through the sleepy rural area without disturbing the pleasant locals. But what he was thinking had nothing to do with leaving their home. "I'm feeling the itch and I only know one person who could ever scratch it properly." “You read my mind,” Darcy replied, as Speed pulled her down onto the floor on top of him, and they embraced with fire and passion. THE END