Page 42 of Biker's Collar: Property of Scrap

“That bitch better not have tried anything,” he says, taking Waverly by her shoulders and putting her in front. “This is a child. A prepubescent child. It’s not what we agreed on.”

I just play along.

“You know Kaylee-Marie. She’s on her own planet. What did you agree on? I’ll make things right.”

“It’s too late to make things right. We just want the money back.”

I gesture towards the money with my foot. “Send her over.”

“Her mother is one twisted bitch,” he says, but he shoves Waverly over and then before my instincts know what the fuck is happening, he has the duffel bag and it’s well over his shoulders. He doesn’t check.

“Remind her that we know where she lives,” he says. “If we’re even a dollar short, I’ll make her ass wish she never met me.”

“She never mentioned your name,” I say to him. “I’m… Eva.”

“I’m Emmett,” he says. “You seem a lot better at this business than that piece of trailer trash. If she wants our help again, tell her to send you.” That’s not a club name. That’s his real government name. Damn. Some of my poker table tricks still work.

I reach my hand for Waverly’s to offer her comfort as her presumed kidnapper turns his back on her and mounts his motorcycle. I don’t take my eyes off him. Waverly holds my hand loosely, but I squeeze hers tightly, as if she could sink into the ground or I could lose her some other way.

I’m scared too. The man takes off on his bike like a bat out of hell. The only people I’ve seen move faster are gamblers leavingthe poker table when they owe money to the house that they don’t have.

Within seconds of the biker leaving, I see the shape of Owen’s body emerging from a thicket of trees about a hundred yards off. He was close. Very close. He couldn’t have heard the conversation, but I’m sure he’ll want me to retell it.

“You’re not my mom,” Waverly says. I get a good look at her as her dad approaches. She has brown hair tangled up in knots, eyes like her father’s and a prominent nose. She doesn’t look a thing like Kaylee-Marie, but she looks like a softer version of her father, possibly drawing on features from multiple sides of the family.

“No,” I say to her in a comforting voice. “I’m here with your dad to make sure nothing bad happens to you.”

She squeezes my hand when I mention her dad.

“Don’t let him take me back,” Waverly says. “Please…”

“Back where, sweetheart?” I say, mostly because I want to keep the girl talking since it has a higher chance of keeping her calm.

Waverly stays quiet for a long time and then she whispers, “To my mom.”

Owen’s close enough that she recognizes him and she pries her hands away from mine.

“DAD!” Waverly shrieks and she runs toward him in a way that could tug at your heartstrings even if you were stone cold inside. Even if you promised yourself that you would never let sentiment and emotion run your life again.

Once they reunite, I bury any sentimental feelings I might have had about either of them. I did the right thing. I saved a little girl. I’ll tell Owen everything that happened later but… I don’t have tocare about him. I don’t have to act like I did this because I have any romantic notions about him.

He’s still a biker. A dangerous criminal…

And somehow, his ex-wife got involved with someone in the Midnight SS. Owen was right — his gambling has nothing to do with this.

Twenty

Owen

Idon’t bring Waverly back to her mother’s house. Ican’t…Instead, I take her to my house. The last time she was there was Thanksgiving last year. I don’t want to let go of her when we get into the house, but I know she needs her sleep so reluctantly, I tuck Waverly into bed. It’s not worth it to wake her up for a shower. She can get clean tomorrow. When I close the door behind her, I half-expect to find Vickie crawling out the living room window instead of sitting patiently for me on the couch.

Tylee picked out everything in this place from Pottery Barn. All I know is that this shit was fucking expensive. Vickie can’t stop looking around the room.

“I still can’t believe you don’t live in a dirty barn,” she says. There it is. I knew she was loading up some sassy comment. I want to glare at her, but my gaze falls straight to her throat, where she still wears that collar.

“Come here.”

Her eyes flicker nervously. She knows what’s coming but at this point, she’s too smart or scared to defy me. Vickie stands up. Her curves jiggle as she gets to her feet and my dick immediately gets hard. Waverly is asleep. I finally have Vickie for the night…

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