Page 39 of Cocky Secrets

I’ll be gone only a little while.

No one will know.

I carefully roll the bike out of the garage, wincing at the sound of the wheels on gravel and dirt. With my heart pounding I pause, cautious ears straining for any signs of footsteps or voices, but the night remains still.

All the way down our long driveway, under a canopy of oak trees and watchful stars, I roll the Harley until I risk opening the electric gate, knowing this beast won’t fit through the pedestrian gate, not with these handle bars.

Sitting on my baby, I turn the key, engine purring softly to life as I rev the gas gently, making sure the sound doesn’t carry too far, before easing it into gear and rolling down onto the main road we live off of. The cool night air rushes past me, a thrilling taste ofhurrybeckoning me to move fast.

With the touch of a button the gate closes to our property and I watch our home for lights slapping on inside of windows. But nothing changes. No sign that anyone heard my escape.

Free at last, I ride away slowly until I’m sure none can hear me. Finally I’m able to pick up speed, and I weave through silent roads, stars twinkling above like they’re cheering me on this time. The wind whips against my face, gorgeous freedom, and I ride toward town, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I’m determined to see him, alone, just us two.

Feel the warmth of his body.

Cool caress of his smile.

Command of his words.

Undress for me.

You’re mine.

As I approach Bear’s house, I’m not surprised to see the lights off. I pull up to the curb and take off my helmet, scanning the property for any sign of him. His truck is gone. That’s not good. I know it can’t be in the garage because there was only room for this Harley, not some huge truck.

Not giving up hope just yet, I run up, knock on the door, and wait. After about a minute, I knock louder, but my impatience isn’t satiated. Strolling to the right, I knock on the front window. Could be asleep on the couch. I pause. Nothing happens. Walking to the other side, I try another window. And another.

“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath. “He must be working.”

Do I ride the streets looking for patrol cars? How would that work? Where would I begin? Just drive anywhere? And what would happen if I found him? He’s on the clock. You can’t visit someone when they’re working. Maybe I could steal a kiss, though, and tell him I need his phone number so I can call and make plans, using our landline, where nobody would be able to tell who I called.

Yes, that’s what I’ll do.

Wherever you are…

Wait for me. I’m coming!

I kick the stand up and settle onto the seat, the familiar vibration of the engine beneath me a comforting reminder of power. With a new conviction to find him and not go home until I do, I decide to stop for gas before my search for Bear begins. The tank is low and I want nothing stopping me, or slowing me down.

Feeling hopeful, I ride to the nearest station, pulling up to the pump and shutting off the engine. As I fill the tank, I glance around the deserted lot, silence wrapping around me like a shroud. Such a small town, a fact I’m used to. It doesn’t usually feel eerie. But tonight something feels…off.

Dark.

It’s just in my mind, that’s all. Because I’ve snuck out, my brain is playing tricks on me. I’m worried I’ll be caught. Like every snapping twig is one of my brothers. Or worse, my father, come to take me back and never let me out again, punishment for disobeying.

They’ve never been this strict with me.

They’ve never had a reason.

Until recently.

Until Bear.

Suddenly, I hear the rumble of engines approaching. A sound so familiar and one that usually causes joy. Not tonight. I’ve been caught! My stomach twists as I turn to see a group of motorcycles pull into the station, their colors stark against the darkness. But I don’t recognize them. The emblem on their jackets sends a chill down my spine: The Spiders, a club I’ve heard my family talk of. They’re trouble, the kind that thrives on vendettas.

I try to remain calm, finishing up with the gas as they dismount. I can feel their eyes on me, sizing me up as I attempt to act nonchalant. But deep down, panic begins to rise. My gaze flicks past them, hoping to find my family. Ironic that I would want them now when just moments ago I was wishing The Ciphers were anywhere but here.

“Look what we found,” one of the bikers calls out, voice dripping with mockery. He’s tall, with a wild beard and tattoos snaking up his arms. “A little lost lamb out past her bedtime?”

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