Page 8 of Addison

I'm surprised when I don't see one of the other members of the club but Addison herself coming down the road on a motorcycle. I don't know when she started riding, but from her form and the tentative way she moves, I can tell that it's not that long ago.

She has a helmet on and a leather jacket but no other protective gear. It pisses me off that she'd put herself at risk like that.

Riding motorcycles is dangerous. Everyone knows this. I don't understand how she could be so reckless, especially when right now she's the sole provider to her son.

I hunker down further in my seat as she breezes by me. She doesn't bother to look in my direction, which is exactly what I wanted. I need to get her away from the clubhouse before things turn bad and I have the entire club on my ass.

I know if I keep down this road, I'm going to have to deal with them eventually, but right now I just want to get things back on solid ground with Addison. Everything else can come later.

Good or bad.

I follow behind her, keeping more than three car lengths between us. I don't want to spook her. Thankfully, she's so focused on the road and keeping her bike upright that she's not really paying attention to what's behind her.

My foot jerks on the gas pedal a few times as we're driving through when I see her make some rookie mistakes that can easily cause her to wipe out or, worse, crash into someone else. She doesn't check her blind side well enough, for one. She nearly merged into oncoming traffic at one point. If the other driver didn't lay on the horn, I'd be peeling her off the street.

The strip mall that we went to yesterday flies by, and we head deeper into the city where there are more people and busier streets. I have to get closer to her if I don't want to lose sight. My hands hurt when she finally pulls off to park her bike; I was gripping the steering wheel so tight.

I've learned my lesson from last time. I'm not going to try and sneak up on her again. My back still hurts from that hip throw she pulled on me.

Quickly finding a place to park, I hop out of my car and jog across the street just as Addison is about to walk into a bookstore.

I make it right behind her just as she's opening the door. "Addison, hold up." I tap her once on the shoulder and take two steps back. The last thing I want is for her to get scared.

She turns with a soft smile on her face until she sees who's calling her name. Quickly, that smile turns into a nasty grimace. "What the hell, man. I told you everything I was going to tell you yesterday. Get a clue." She steps away from the door to let another couple walk in.

"Easy, just relax--"

"Don't tell me to relax. I'm as relaxed as I'm going to be with having some man stalk me all around town. I don't know what you want from me." Her voice is raised, and I see a few people turn their heads, ready to either intervene or simply watch the drama that's about to unfold.

In this day and age where everything winds up on social media, I know I need to keep a cool head and calm her down without becoming Instagram-worthy.

"I didn't mean relax. I just meant you don't need to be scared or nervous around me. You're right; I am stalking you all over the place, but that's only because I need some answers. Answers only you will know. Just give me a few moments of your time, see for yourself that I'm not trying to run any game or anything on you. Just talk to me." I take a half-step closer to her, getting close without invading her personal space. She doesn't answer right away, but I'm not going to take no for an answer. "Come on, what's a little conversation going to hurt?"

"Fine, talk." She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me. She really means to have this conversation in the middle of the sidewalk where everyone can hear us.

I'm not famous or anything like that, but I'd rather not be on the street where one of the passing patrol officers can see me.

"How about we go in the coffee shop right here? It's public, neutral?" I point to a small bakery across the street. It's not exactly what I'd call bustling with people, but there are a few customers walking in and out. Slow enough to be personal, but busy enough she won't have to feel uneasy.

"Fine, but you're going to have to make this quick. I've got things to do." She walks ahead of me, barely paying attention to the cars coming in our direction.

I grab hold of her arm and yank her back when a small coupe comes barreling up the road. She rips her arm away from me the second she can.

"You know I'm old enough to cross the street on my own, right?"

I could bite back, tell her that if she were capable of crossing the street, she should know to look both ways, but I doubt that will get me any brownie points with her.

I nod once and gesture with my hand that she should continue walking. I follow closely behind her, doing what I can to keep her safe from this distance.

We get into the coffee shop, and she beelines straight for a table right in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows. She's not trying to give me even the least bit of privacy.

It's not ideal, but I'll deal with it.

"Are you hungry?" I ask.

"What? What does my appetite have to do with you taking your five minutes?" She squints her eyes at me and once again leaves a very large opportunity for me to fight back. I've got a whole war ahead of me; I'm not going to waste my time with these little battles.

"Give me a second, please. If we don't buy anything, we can't sit in here." It's a plausible excuse, but in reality, I'm walking away from her because I need to get my thoughts under control.

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