Page 32 of Her Possessive Bikers

Kyler falls into step beside us as we head for the parking lot. His stitches pull when he walks - I can tell by the way he favors his right side.

"I'm driving," I announce, holding my hand out for the Chevelle's keys.

Indy arches an eyebrow. "Over my dead body you are."

"Come on darlin, live a little." I say with a grin.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the keys, dangling them just out of my reach. A smirk plays at the corner of her mouth.

"Actually, funny story Jacoby. Dad left me a letter, and there was this specific part about you." She taps her chin in mock thought. "What was it again? Oh yeah - 'Don't let Jacoby Wilson within ten feet of my baby.' Something about you driving like your ass is on fire?"

"Come on, that was one time!" I protest, but she's already tossing the keys to Kyler, whose face lights up like Christmas morning. "And I fixed it!"

"After you wrapped it around a tree," Kyler mumbles, his fingers curling reverently around the keys.

"It was a pole, actually," I correct him, then catch Indy's raised eyebrow. "Which... probably isn't helping my case."

"Not even a little." Indy slides into the passenger seat while Kyler practically bounces behind the wheel. "Besides, look how happy you made him. Saves me from having to give him a lollipop for being a good patient."

I watch Kyler run his hands over the steering wheel, looking more alive than he has since Brick passed. The engine purrs to life under his touch, and even I have to admit it sounds sweet.

"Fine," I swing onto my bike. "But I'm leading the way. And Kyler? If you scratch that car, I won't have to worry about Brick haunting me - his daughter will kill you first."

"Yes sir," Kyler grins, and I catch Indy hiding a smile as they pull out behind me.

19

KYLER

The Chevelle's engine purrs under my hands, smooth as silk. I can't believe she trusted me with this beauty. Every curve of chrome gleams in the Texas sun, and the leather wheel feels like butter beneath my palms.

"You're smiling," Indy says, cranking down her window. "I don't think I've ever seen you actually smile that wide before."

"This car does things to a man." My fingers drum against the wheel. "Your dad never let anyone touch it."

"Yeah, well." She kicks her feet up on the dash, combat boots crossed at the ankle. "Things change."

The radio crackles to life as she fiddles with the dial. Some old rock song fills the car, and she starts singing along, her voice carrying over the wind whipping through the window. Her hair dances around her face, and the sunlight catches the silver ring in her nose.

I steal another glance. She's got her arm hanging out the window now, fingers spread wide like she's trying to catch pieces of the sky. There's something wild about her, something untamed that makes my chest ache.

"Eyes on the road, Jones," she teases, catching me looking.

"Yes ma'am." I clear my throat, focusing ahead. "Your dad would kill me, I'm transporting precious cargo."

"Nah." She turns the music up louder. "He'd probably just haunt your ass for eternity."

The laugh escapes before I can stop it. She joins in, and for a moment, everything feels right. Like maybe the world isn't such a dark place after all.

But I know better. Those bastards threatened her today, and the thought of anyone trying to hurt her makes my blood boil. They don't know what they've started. I'd burn every last one of them to the ground before I let them touch her.

The rumble of the muscle car echoes off the houses as we pull up to O'Brien's place. Jacoby gives me a nod before parking at the top of the street, his eyes already scanning for trouble.

I ease the Chevelle into the driveway, my hands still tingling from gripping that pristine leather steering wheel.

"Not bad for a biker boy," Indy says, a hint of teasing in her voice.

"Your old man taught me everything I know about classics." The words catch in my throat as I follow her inside.

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