Page 25 of Bender

Konrad’s vest, or cut as he calls it, swamps me. It’s wrapped over two sweatshirts, so I feel like a mummy, and it hangs to my knees and partway down each of my arms. It’s heavy, and warm, and smells like him.

“Keep it zipped and buckled at all times. Understand me?” His voice is muffled through the thick face shield of the sparkly purple helmet he ordered for me.

I nearly topple over when I try to nod. Grey and I have been begging for a ride on his bike since we first laid eyes on it, but Konrad made us wait until the custom-painted helmets he ordered arrived. Mine’s the color of grape jelly, and Grey’s is a glittery gold that Konrad says is peanut butter. Predictably, Konrad’s helmet is midnight black just like his bike. We rock, paper, scissored to decide which of us would get a ride first, and I won. Grey’s almost bouncing with excitement waiting for his turn on the bike next.

Ace explained it’s called a Fat Boy, but that only makes sense in the way a person might have the nickname Tiny when they’re really big. Because there’s nothing fat about it. Every line is sleek and tight. Konrad mentioned having most of the chrome pieces swapped out for gunmetal gray ones, giving the whole bike an almost menacing, dark look.

“I’m still not sure you’re ready for this, Jellybean. What if something happens? What if you let go? What if it starts to rain, and you get soaked?” His frantic hypotheticals are mumbled so quietly I know they’re not directed at me, but I answer anyway.

“You’ll never let me fall or get hurt; I know it. You should, too.” Usually, it’s Konrad soothing Grey’s or my nerves. It’s kind of nice to swap things up a bit. Of course, it won’t be nice if he worries himself out of giving me the ride he promised. First me, then Grey.

“I’d die first,” he swears. I know he’s not lying, either. Ever since we watched him murder a man for scaring Grey and me, it’s like every fear receptor in my brain has locked onto how safe I am with him.

If he’d kill a man for standing by when I got hurt, ages before Konrad even met me, I know he’d burn down the world if someone hurt me now. Still, I’m nervous to climb onto this massive bike, knowing there’s nothing around me to protect me from an accident. Not nervous enough to back out, but yeah.

The ground under my sneakers vibrates, and I turn my whole body to watch as Jax, Blakely draped over his back with a smile even her helmet can’t mask, pulls up along side us. Konrad helps me climb on, holding me steady as I spread my thighs wide open to wrap around his back. My feet can’t reach the passenger pegs, so he wraps my legs around his waist and crosses my ankles over the hard bulge behind his zipper. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my elbows on my thighs. My head turns to see another bike, with just one rider, ease up on our other side.

Ace flips up the visor on his helmet and grins at me, all traces of the standoffish guy, who has yet to really warm up to Grey and me, tucked away. His bike is glossy blue, and matches his new hair color. When we went to bed last night, it was still shamrock green. When we woke up, it looked like a Smurf had bled out in the guest bathroom, and Ace’s hair was as blue as a sapphire.

“Scared?” he asks, sincerity taking the place of his typically sardonic tone.

“A little,” I shout back, knowing this helmet muffles nearly everything I say.

“Don’t be. We got your back, Crayon Two. We’ll take it nice and slow ‘til you get used to riding pillion.” Ace has taken to calling Grey and me Crayon One and Crayon Two. I know it drives Konrad crazy, and even now, I can feel his body tensing under my hands.

“Chill, Bender man. Blu knows we’re cool. Right, babe?” he teases.

I nod because honestly, it’s kinda fun the way Ace teases us. It beats him being snotty or ignoring us. I think he might even like us one day, which would be very cool. If Konrad really keeps us, and I believe him when he says he is, then it’ll be better for all of us to get along. Plus, I think Ace is only a brat to hide how scared he is of living. I mean, I get it. I’m still a sass mouth when I get nervous, and Grey’s always the first to point it out.

“Ready, Sweetheart?” Konrad asks. I press a thumbs up to his chest, and he revs the motor of his bike beneath us.

We go slow and steady, nothing fancy or tricky. A half hour feels like only seconds, then we’re pulling back into the space in front of the house where everyone’s hanging out. Grey’s been waiting his turn, and I’m excited to hear how he likes it when they get back.

“Careful, your legs might be wobbly,” Grey warns me as he helps to steady me when I climb down. He speaks like he’s an expert, and I give him a tart look.

“I’m just telling you what Cameron told me, that’s all! He was giving me tips while I waited to take my turn.” Grey knows I hate it when he tries to boss me around, but ever since we got free, he’s been trying more and more to copy Konrad and the other guys when they get overprotective and bossy.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’ll see who’s wobbly when you get back from your turn,” I sass at him before teetering to where Arlo’s standing with a bottle of water held out for me.

Honestly, Konrad’s not the only guy around here who jumps at protecting and caring for others. They all do, in their own ways. Even Jax, who is an absolute asshole to everyone outside the four walls of our house, is a reluctantly caring protector when it comes to me, Grey, and Amaliya.

I turn and watch Konrad and Grey ride off, flanked by Jax and Ace. The feeling of home and security fills me with so much joy I know I’m grinning like a loon. Which is fine, because looking around me, all I see is people who get it.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

BENDER

I’m checking over Blu and Grey’s dinner plates when my phone’s incoming message alert chimes, distracting me from counting their bites and making sure they’ve gotten enough nutritious stuff eaten to justify dessert. The generic notification informs me that lab and test results have been loaded into the patient portals Charm had Grey and Blu create when he came out to examine them.

He'd intended to protect their privacy. Little did he know, or need to know, they immediately volunteered their log-in credentials to me. Blu had explained she wanted me to break any bad news to that might come, so neither of them had to worry or be scared. Grey had agreed.

I thumb through the access screens, one after the other, so I can verify what my heart’s already told me is true. Aside from some correctable malnourishment and the need for exercise to restore muscles denied use during their captivity, they both have healthy results.

It’s safe to say, not leaving either of them with STIs is the kindest thing Eric Huber ever did in his miserable life. With relief, I make note of the indicator that Blu elected to leave in the IUD she’d had in place prior to being trafficked.

One day breeding my Jellybean is definitely something I’ll revisit, but for now, the priority is getting her and Grey healthy and stable. Making them fall in love with me. Choosing to stay with me. To belong to me. Not the toxic belonging they survived with Huber, but the kind that reveres and adores.

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