Page 39 of Snared Rider

I see security filing in at the far end of the room, poised, ready for action. Dad and Dean are both going to get kicked out at this rate.

However, neither of them seem to notice the trouble they’re causing. Dad just continues to glare at Dean, and for a moment I think he will smack him in the face, but he doesn’t. He releases him with a shove.

“Sir! You’re going to have to leave,” the first security guy says as he reaches us. He looks terrified by the prospect of trying to get Dad to do anything and Dad doesn’t help matters by rounding on him.

“You want me to leave? Make me.” The challenge in his words and tone has the guard’s eyes dashing frantically between him and Dean. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else on the planet right now, and I don’t blame him. Dad may be in his mid-fifties, but he doesn’t act it. He doesn’t look it either. He does look like he could take on the world and win. Dean is no shrinking violet either, and the two of them glaring like that must be heart attack inducing.

“Dad!” I chastise and turn to the security guard. “He’s just worried. I promise, both of them will be on their best behaviour from now on.”

The guard looks at me before bringing his disbelieving gaze back to Dad, who is staring daggers at him.

Give me strength…

Swallowing hard, the guard backs down, saying, “Fine, but any more trouble and I’ll have the police here.”

Dad rolls his eyes like a petulant child but, for once, keeps his mouth shut. He moves over to me, Dean following but keeping out of arms-reach as he pulls the curtain back around the cubicle. There are too many eyes watching us after that crazy display.

“Dean wasn’t at fault for this,” I hiss at him. “If you want to blame anyone, blame the lunatic with the gun.” I whisper the last bit, not wanting unfriendly ears to hear. “He shot at us. That man pushed us off the road and shot at us. Why in the hell would anyone do that?”

Dad’s eyes slide to Dean before coming back to me. “Don’t you worry about it, love. All you need to think about is getting back on your feet.”

I glare. Well, I glare as much as I can given I’m drugged up and concussed. I’m not sure if it’s the stress of the day or the adrenaline depletion but my anger roars to life.

“Don’t you dare do that!” I growl. “Don’t treat me like an ignorant child! I was there. I saw what I saw. Now, one of you had better start explaining why in the hell I was nearly shot today.”

“Beth—” Dad starts, but I cut him off.

“How can you stand there and tell me not to worry about it? How in the fuck am I not supposed to worry? Someone tried to kill us!” I snap my gaze to Dean. “Are you in trouble? Or is this Club shit?”

Dad runs a hand over his jaw and shakes his head. “He can’t talk about the Club’s business, you know that.”

“Fuck Club business! Someone tried to kill me!”

“Sweetheart, you know I’d love to tell you what you want to know, but I can’t. All you need to know is it won’t happen again. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“Yeah, and how are you going to do that, Dad?”

His mouth and eyes tighten. I’m pushing him, but I don’t care. I’m so angry and upset and scared.

“By making sure you’re protected while you’re here.”

I’m confused by his words and even more confused by his actions when he pulls out his mobile phone and types on the screen.

“Dad?” I question, but he doesn’t answer. He keeps his attention locked on his phone for several moments until I hear a voice on the other side of the curtain.

“Knock-knock.”

The voice is familiar. Very familiar. I recognise who it belongs to immediately, even in my hazy state.

Please be a dream, please, please, please be a dream.

But it’s not. To my unending horror, Dad draws back the curtain to reveal the one person I’ve been trying to avoid.

Logan Harlow.

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