Page 46 of Too Many Beds

“To your dad,” the brunet blurts.

“What? But I’m not going to my dad’s. I’m going to my mom’s.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. Pack a bag and let’s get on the road before it gets dark. We have a long way to go,” Ambrose huffs out.

My best friend, who stopped talking to me after I went off to college, wants me to just jump on a motorcycle with him like everything’s good between us again. Like he didn’t spend all this time pretending I didn’t exist. I take a step back, shaking my head. “I’m not going with you. I haven’t even spoken to my dad in months.”

“Well then, this is the perfect opportunity for you two to catch up, isn’t it?” Ambrose smiles, leaning in closer. He always did have a great smile. One turn of his lips and he could convince me to do anything.

“He’s not going to come willingly.” The redhead reaches toward the back of his jeans and Ambrose places a hand on his wrist.

“Easy, Mitch. That’s not needed yet.”

“What’s not?” I try to look at where red has his hand, but the guy who hasn’t spoken for a bit grabs me by the chin, forcing my eyes onto his—sparkling sapphire. The only pretty thing about him. “Listen. We don’t want any trouble. We were sent here on a task, so either you come willingly or I knock you out cold and take you to my bike over my shoulder. Which will it be?” His fingers dig into my skin and the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

“I…I’ll come.”

“Good,” Sapphire eyes says. “I really didn’t want to have to use my good rope so early into our trip.”

Ambrose releases red’s wrist, shooting both of his friends a glare. “You can let him go now, Vance. No need to scare him when we’re supposed to be the ones keeping him safe.”

“Safe from what?” I ask, stepping back into the door.

Ambrose sighs. “It’s better we don’t talk about it here. Come on, I saw a diner down the road. We’ll grab a bite to eat and you can call your dad after.”

“Or I can just call him now.” I reach for my phone and Ambrose stops me.

“Not a good idea. In fact, I think you should leave that here. That way, if it’s tracked you won’t be here with it.”

My eyes widen. “Tracked?”

Vance huffs out a breath. “Enough with the fucking questions. We’ve already wasted too much damn time. Eating close by is no longer an option.”

“This is all insane.”

“You can call it whatever you want but it won’t change our circumstances. Now go back in your room, pack a bag, and leave your phone. We’ll be waiting out front. You got five minutes.” Vance’s expression hardens and he doesn’t blink once. The guy is fucking terrifying—definitely closer to my dad’s age than mine. Except, out of the two of them he’s the only one I’d be willing to call Daddy. Was he really going to put me to sleep? Was it going to be with those meaty arms of his? My cock twitches in my pants.

“Please, Oakley,” Ambrose begs. “Your dad wouldn’t have sent us here to get you if it wasn’t necessary. If you go to your mom’s you’ll be putting both your lives at risk.”

That last part has me nodding and quickly rushing back into my room, leaving the door cracked open. Who the hell did my dad piss off this time? It was the reason my mom left all those years ago—the threats against him were coming too close to her and me—but she was able to escape easier than I am. I’ll always be the son of the president of an MC club no matter what I do.

“Everything okay?” Thomas asks, tilting his head.

“Yeah. It’s fine,” I lie, tugging down a bag from my small closet. I shove the folded clothes on my bed inside. “My mom sent them to give me a ride home, so you and Mason no longer have to take me to the bus stop.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you after break. Have fun and let me know how everything goes with the future in laws!” I pat him on the shoulder and tuck my phone in a piece of rolled up paper to drop it into the trashcan on my way out.

I look around the room one more time, making sure I’m not forgetting anything, before walking out the door. All three guys are waiting for me outside, leaning against their bikes, looking like extras from the damn showSons of Anarchy.

“There you are. Here I was thinking we were going to have to revert to plan B,” Vance says smugly. “Here’s your helmet. You’re riding with Ambrose.”

Shuffling my feet, I take the helmet with shaky fingers and wait until Ambrose is straddling his seat before hopping on behind him.

“You going to be okay back there?”

“You forget, I’ve grown up riding on the front and back of bikes. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

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