Page 34 of Dark Biker Protector

My ears pricked up when she said that part. Something we could do to help them? I might not have been the most famous journalist on the planet, but I had a decent following – and if I could use it to help women before they got caught up in the same nightmares we had been a part of, it would be worth it, right.

"Maybe I could," I remarked, leaning forward, my eyes lighting up. "You know I’m a writer, right?”

"Yeah..." she replied, frowning, a little confused.

"I could write a story about it," I replied. "Well, not using his name, or anything - I don’t want the cops to go looking into him going missing. But about what happened to us. What we went through. A warning for other women, so they can recognize it if the same thing ever happens to them."

She grinned, nodding slowly as she took in the idea.

"I really like that," she remarked. "Could I help with it, do you think? Talk about what happened with Franco?"

"If it wouldn’t be too hard for you," I replied. "I don’t want to dredge up the past..."

"No, it’s fine," she replied, shaking her head. "I think it would be good for me to get it off my chest, you know? Actually put it out into the world. Maybe it would help me leave it all behind, if I knew it was out there, actually helping other women. Maybe then..."

She trailed off for a moment, but then, she smiled.

"Maybe then it would all be worth something."

And I couldn’t help but smile back. Yes, that was it exactly – I wanted all of this to be worth something. I didn’t want our experiences to go to waste, not when I knew she was right – not when I knew there were so many other women out there who were likely in the midst of the same thing, feeling as helpless and alone as we had when we had been navigating our way through it. I never wanted anyone to feel like that again, not if I could help it, and this was my way of making that happen.

I took a sip of my coffee, my mind already racing with possibilities. How I was going to structure the article, how I was going to tell this story in a way that really stuck with people. I felt a bloom of excitement spread across my chest. Giving meaning to this was exactly what I needed.

And, with Chuck by my side, I knew I could make it happen.

Chapter Twenty -One– Chuck

"Okay, keep your eyes shut," I warned her, as we made our way into the apartment. She laughed and tapped my arms.

"You’re covering my eyes, remember?" she reminded me, as I steered her over the threshold.

"Okay, yeah, well, I still want this to be a surprise," I replied, as I pulled the door shut behind us. I grinned when I saw the box sitting on the bed – a pair of black ears sticking out the top of it. I knew she was going to freak when she saw the housewarming gift I had gotten her, but it was perfect. A perfect new member to our little household.

It was her official moving-in day, though she had been more or less living with me for the last few weeks as it was – we had cleared everything out of her old apartment and she had broken her lease, managing to cover up the scuffle with Franco as nothing more than the water heater breaking. I had been looking forward to this day all month, more than ready to welcome her into her new home.

And, now it was finally here, I had another member of this family to introduce to her too. I pulled my hands away from her eyes.

"Okay, you can look now."

She opened her eyes – and, for a moment, it took her a second to register what she was seeing in front of her. She stepped forward, peered into the box, and her jaw dropped.

"Holy shit!" she exclaimed, reaching in to lift out the little black kitten inside. "Who’s this?”

"I haven’t given him a name yet," I replied, as the kitten mewled in her arms. She laughed and pressed a kiss right between his ears.

"He’s so precious," she murmured. "Where did you get him?"

"One of the guys found a mother cat who’d had a bunch of kittens when he was out on the road," I explained. "And I decided I should give at least one of them a home."

"I love him," she told me, cradling her new friend in her arms. "What are we going to call him?"

"I thought I’d leave it up to you."

"Hmm," she remarked, pondering the question. "I think...Clove would be a good name for him. Cinnamon and Clove. That works, right?"

"Anything you want," I replied, laughing as she planted herself at the edge of the bed. Cinnamon came over to see what all the fuss was about, standing up and leaning on the edge of the bed to sniff Clove.

"This is your new baby brother, sweetheart," she cooed to him, reaching out to pet his head. "Isn’t he the sweetest thing?"

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