Page 14 of Snared Rider

I don’t know what he said to Gina, but it must have been bad because I’ve not seen her since then. For two and a half years she’s been blissfully absent. Now she’s back and that does not bode well because it means she’s desperate enough to risk Dad’s wrath. And desperate people do dangerous things.

Yeah, I really should have told Tap she’s here.

It takes everything I have to drag my attention from ‘Tal’ (what kind of stupid name is that anyway?) and look to my mother. I need to wrap this shit up quickly.

“Just a suggestion: I’d get gone before one of the brothers see you.”

That’s as much as I get out before I’m forced backwards against the compound’s perimeter fence. Surprise is the first emotion I register, followed by panic as the air whooshes from my lungs when I hit the iron hard enough to wind me. Pain rolls up my back and through my shoulders, but I don’t have a second to digest that because one arm goes across my chest, pinning me in place while his other goes wandering.

Terror like I’ve never experienced before ripples through me.

“What the hell are you doing?” I gasp as his hand moves low, too low.

He doesn’t answer, just keeps his arm pressed against my neck. Then his free hand goes into my left jeans pocket. Finding nothing there, he moves to the right.

He’s checking my pockets, not trying to molest me.

Relief is such a powerful emotion my legs want to fold beneath me, but Tal’s arm across my chest stops any movement I might make.

“She’s got nothing,” he growls, concluding his search.

I have nothing because my purse is in my backpack, which I tossed in front of the bar where I was doing my homework. Even so, I think I have about five quid on me—definitely not enough to buy Class A drugs.

“You sure?” Gina sounds just as annoyed as Tal. What was she expecting? That I’d have an envelope of cash in my back pocket? Dad keeps me in pocket money, and for my age I get a decent cut from him, but I don’t carry it on me. That she thinks I walk around loaded up with money is just more proof the drugs keep her brain addled.

“You need to step away,” I tell Tal with a lot more bravado than I’m feeling.

“Just give us the money and we’ll leave,” Gina orders. She is watching this entire thing play out without a hint of emotion. God, does she hate me that much that she’d let some drug addict touch me like this? What kind of mother just stands by and lets that happen?

I glare at her before pulling my gaze back to Tal. “She fed you a lie. I don’t have any money.” At least not the kind of money this pair wants.

“You got shit in the bank?”

I scoff at his words. “I’m fourteen; I don’t have a bank account.” This is not strictly true; Dad set me up with a savings account a couple of years back, but I’m not telling this idiot that.

His gaze narrows on me and then his jaw tightens as he glances over his shoulder at Gina. “This bitch is fourteen?”

I rile internally at being called a bitch, but I keep quiet; I don’t need to piss Tal off more. Gina shrugs. She shrugs because I doubt she has any clue how old I am. She may have pushed me out of her body but I’d be surprised if she even remembers when that was. She’s done a lot of drugs since then.

He turns back and for a moment I think he’s considering hitting me. His fist raises, clenching at head level, while his other hand seizes my top to keep me in place. I brace for impact. This will hurt. Even high, even weak because of the drugs ravaging his body, I know he will pack a punch.

But his fist never lands because there is suddenly a body between us, shoving Tal back from me.

“You piece of shit!”

It takes my muddled brain a moment to compute that Logan is now between me and Tal. My panic, my fear subsides because I’m safe and I know it. Adrenaline, which had been keeping me upright, seeps out of my body leaving my legs trembling. It’s only the fence that keeps me on my feet and I lean heavily against it as I watch Logan take on my attacker.

Even though he’s barely seventeen, Logan looms over Tal, and I can tell by the tight set of his shoulders that he’s not just pissed off but pissed off.

My chest heaves as I watch the two men square off against each other, and ice settles in my belly. I want to call out to him, to tell him to come away from Tal, but I don’t want to distract him either. That could get him hurt, so I stay still and silent.

“This isn’t your business, boy.” Tal, who just moments ago looked huge, seems smaller and less impressive in the shadow of Logan.

Logan’s brow arches. “You come into my territory, put your hands on the daughter of my secretary outside my clubhouse and that’s not my business?”

I don’t know what he’s saying, or why. Logan isn’t even patched yet. He can’t take the prospect kutte until next year when he turns eighteen; still, he speaks as if he has his top and bottom rockers already.

Pride.

---