Page 39 of Biker's Collar: Property of Scrap

Bear and Southpaw both let Owen speak before he leaves. I don’t know how he can be so confident that this has nothing to do with his gambling, but I guess we’ll find out. Once we’re outside, Owen walks pensively towards his bike with his handsin his pockets. He hands me my helmet. I take it, but I also stop his hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Since when do you care?”

“I don’t. I just don’t want to get on the back of your bike if you’re suicidal or something.”

He smirks. “Nice save.”

“Answer the question.”

“The only thing I ever wanted was for Waverly to have a good life. Everyone I know convinced me she would be better off with Kaylee-Marie. I feel like a fucking deadbeat.”

“You love her. If you love her, fight for her.”

He smiles and closes the distance between us. The strange feelings between us are still there and I still hate them, even if I’m the crazy person encouraging those feelings right now.

“Sounds like you care about me.”

“I care about that baby.”

“That baby is six years old.”

He sounds sad again.

“When did you last see her?”

“Thanksgiving,” he turns red. “And I fought for her in court. I wascleanwhen I sat there and then… it doesn’t matter. We’re going to my place before tonight.”

“How many places do you have?”

“Enough places that I could forget where I put you if I don’t keep you close.”

He looks at me the way guys do when they’re about to kiss you. I want to stop him by saying something cruel. Shit, I would drug him again if I could. But this time, Owen drugs me. That’s what itfeels like at least. He kisses me with wet, warm lips. And he feels good.

He feels so much better than I want him to feel.

“Don’t pull away,” he whispers between a break in our kisses. “I don’t know why you make me feel so good… because outside of this… my whole world is always falling apart.”

He kisses me again and just like that, the moment of vulnerability ends. Owen puts his helmet on and becomes Scrap. A dangerous, violent biker who could kill at any minute. That’s how he looks at least. I wonder how many people know that underneath it all, that terrifying beast has something soft and gentle about him.

Eighteen

Owen

Iam such a fucking idiot. When I get to my place in Missouri, I have every intention of banging Vickie on the couch. I want her. I need her. But I also want my daughter back. When I pull Vickie’s body onto mine on that couch… we both fall asleep.

When I wake up, it’s because I hear the phantom sound of my daughter calling me. It’s not real. Hasn’t been real for years. Vickie’s body presses into mine, making me not want to move.

“Vickie. We gotta go.”

Put her into the arms of danger. I don’t question it, only because I know nothing could happen to her with me and my brothers watching. She’s so soft and clearly struggling to wake up. I find her collar and tug on it a little. That gets her right up and Vickie shoves her elbow into my chest as she wakes up until I grunt in pain.

“Where am I? What’s going on?”

“You’re about to carry fifty-grand to a park and get my baby back,” I whisper, stroking her hair gently, even if such displays of affection have the strange effect of making Vickie more confused and terrified. She wriggles against me and sighs.

“You are so weird.”

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