Page 19 of Rise In Arms

I enter the motel room and throw my bag on the bed. I’m exhausted. We’ve been driving for what seems like hours, only stopping now and then for toilet breaks and snacks, updating Hazel’s brother via text messages along the way.

My own phone has been ringing off the hook with calls and messages from Blake. I haven’t answered one of them. I don’t want to hear all his threats, it will only make me more terrified than I already am. No, I need to think of this baby inside of me and get it and me to safety. I’ve been whining for the last hour that I need a proper meal, but she insisted we drive on till we reached a motel for the night.

So now that we’re all checked in, and Hazel being the awesome best friend that she is, she’s gone to get us some takeout while I rest. But I feel edgy and can’t sit still. A shower, that’s what I need, something to take the edge off, and since alcohol is out of the question…. Opening my bag, I grab underwear and a tank top and head toward the bathroom.

Just before I enter the shower, I hear my phone ring, but when I grab it, I realize it’s not my phone; it’s Hazel’s. We must have accidently swapped phones in the car. Our covers are almost the same, so it’s easy to do. The screen displays it’s a private number calling, and I contemplate whether to answer it or not. I’m tempted to in case it’s something important, but instead I reject the call. If it’s important they’ll call back. Hazel can deal with it when she returns.

While I’m rinsing shampoo out of my hair, I hear a sound that seems to be coming from the main room. Unsure if I’m just imagining things, I slide open the glass shower door and pop my head out, trying to hear anything further, but I hear nothing. I remember locking the door to the room, before I gave Hazel the key to let herself in, but she can’t be back already, surely? I must be hearing things.

Closing the shower door again, I continue washing, taking my sweet time and enjoying the warm water as it soothes my bruises, careful to be gentle where it still hurts. Once I’m done I thoroughly dry my hair with the towel provided, and then lightly dry the remaining drops of water from my body, barely skimming over where my bruising is. I slip on my panties and tank top, and while brushing my hair I decide to leave it damp and go to bed like it is. I’m too tired to find the hair dryer right now, and just need to fall flat on my bed and go to sleep.

Opening the door to enter the main room, my first step off the tiles and onto the carpet brings me almost face-to-face with a complete stranger sitting on the edge of the bed closest to the bathroom. Shocked and afraid for my life, I scream for help, but my cries are soon muted when a hand covers my mouth, muffling all my protests.

“You’d better shut your mouth the fuck up before I shut it for you,” a deep, male voice whispers in my ear. Tears run down my cheeks, and my eyes travel to the man still seated on my bed. He’s dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. Then my gaze moves to the very tall, well-built man standing by the door of the small motel room. Oh God, there’s three of them. What am I going to do?

The one on the bed says, “Where the fuck is my sister?”

My eyes widen at his words. Sister? Could this…. Is this Kane? I try to respond but can’t, the hand over my mouth making it difficult.

“Let her go, Tracker,” the man orders from the bed, lifting his chin toward us. Once this Tracker guy lets go, I run straight for the door, scrambling desperately to unlock it, but I’m caught swiftly by the big giant guarding it, who grabs me in his arms and pulls me into him.

“Let me go, you jerk!” I yell, kicking and screaming as my feet leave the floor. I hear a husky laugh coming from the direction of the bed, and I turn and focus on that guy, ignoring the one attached to the steel arms still surrounding me. “I’m guessing you’re Kane?” I growl out, narrowing my eyes at him.

His eyebrows raise in a surprised look, and then draw together. Oh my God, the man is seriously hot… although, not the time to be noticing something like that, Charity.

He gets up from the bed and walks toward me. “Trigger, call me Trigger,” he says distractedly, his gaze dropping from mine down to my breasts, where I know my nipples are showing through my thin tank top, then further down my torso, and finally to my bare legs.

Who does he think he is? Hazel’s brother may be seriously hot, but what an asshole.

“Have you had a good enough look? Like what you see?” I ask him, sarcasm running like honey through my voice.

I hear a chuckle come from behind me, the chest against my back rumbling with it—Mr. Giant is laughing at my sassy comment.

Kane, or Trigger, or whatever the hell his name is, licks his bottom lip when his eyes move back up to my breasts, and without any warning I feel heat pool in my panties. His mouth, his lips, the way he’s undressing me with his eyes, is seriously hot. He inches even closer to me, and the smell of his cologne mixed with leather and cigarettes turns me on even more. Shit, this pregnancy is making me horny as hell.

Suddenly the door to the motel room starts to unlock, but Mr. Giant quickly holds it closed with one hand while his other holds me to him even tighter. “Open the goddamn door!” a familiar voice yells out from outside. Loud banging on the door begins, and Mr. Giant must recognize Hazel’s voice, because he unlocks and opens the door using his free hand, revealing a very pissed-off Hazel standing on the doorstep, her hand raised and ready to knock again.

“What the hell are you…?” She stops, then frowns, focused solely on Mr. Giant. A look of realization and recognition dawns on her face, and my chest relaxes a touch. “Bear? Is that you?”

Hazel eyes widen when she notices that this “Bear” guy has his arm securely around me, holding me tight.

She storms into the room, then stops suddenly when she spies Kane on the other side of me. “Kane? Oh my God, Kane! What are you doing here?” she squeals, then moves forward and throws herself into his waiting arms.

“Let go of me, you jerk,” I growl, trying to get out of Bear’s hold now that I’m sure I’m no longer in any danger from the three beefcakes in my room.

Hazel turns around in Kane’s arms and laughs. “Let go of her, Bear. This is my friend Charity.”

He finally releases me, and my feet plant squarely back onto the floor. I turn to face him. “You’re an asshole,” I say to his face, then turn and glare at hot biker boy. “What the hell is going on here?”

Kane let’s go of his sister and rests his hands on his hips, looking from Hazel over to me. “So, this is your friend Charity, hey? The one who’s got you in some trouble?”

“Now just a min—” I stop speaking when he gently pushes Hazel aside and steps closer to me, his nose now mere inches from mine. His scent surrounds me, and I try to control my hormones.

“What have you got my sister into? She’s a good girl. You runnin’ from a pimp, or something?” he snarls in my face.

Pimp? No, he did not just call me a whore.Without any hesitation I slap him—I slap him so hard my hand turns numb from the strike. His head whips to the side with the force of the hit, and I begin to walk backward when I see his face again, this time looking like it’s set in stone. Shit, what did I do that for? Well, for starters, he called you a whore.

Standing to my full height—which is not that tall at all—and with all the courage I can muster, I rest my hands on my hips and state, “How dare you call me a whore, I’m not running from any pimp.”

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