Page 4 of Witch Queens: Tales from Oz

I swallowed my fear and nodded shakily, “Anything.”

“Then hop on, Princess, we have to get somewhere.”

I wanted to argue, but I knew that he would only take off if I did.

Scarecrow tossed me the heavy helmet and I gingerly placed it on my head.

His slight smile as I tried to fasten it had my fingers working like thumbs. Eventually, tired of the game, he pulled me towards him and fastened the buckle himself, making sure that it was tight against my chin.

He extended his arm for me to climb aboard and I hesitated for the briefest of moments. I was terrified of motorcycles, but I needed him. Swallowing my fear, I hopped on behind him. I tried to get acclimated, with his large frame directly in front of me and the purring of the bike between my legs.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and was proud of how brave I was being. Until he took off and I felt my entire life flash before my eyes. I must have screamed some obscenity because I could feel him chucking. My fingers were digging into his six pack abs and I was too scared to realize that I had slipped my hands under his leather jacket and t-shirt, hanging onto his bare skin.

My chest was glued to his back, my thighs cradling his ass. I would be mortified if I were in my right mind.

We pulled off at another seedy bar and I wondered why we hadn’t just stayed at the first one if he wanted to drink. But I didn’t question him, I was too damn happy that the bike had stopped.

He got off the bike, turned and picked me up. It was disconcerting that he was strong enough to move my body without the slightest hint of effort.

I slid down his hard frame before my feet hit the pavement. Scarecrow unlatched his helmet from my head and I noticed that his eyes flared with lust as they took in my disheveled state.

I was flustered and blurted out, “Why did you bring me to another bar?”

A slow grin spread across his face, “This isn’t just any bar, Indy. Welcome to your new home.”

My eyes had to have shown my surprise because he threw his head back and laughed.

"Don't judge every book by its cover, Princess," he grasped my hand and pulled me into the dark bar.

There were hardly any patrons, but I wasn't paying attention to the barflies.

The bartender looked to be almost seven feet tall. He was bald and handsome in a rough, terrifying way. Scarecrow caught me staring and yanked my arm hard, "He's not for you, Princess."

The bartender laughed, "Not sharing this one, Scarecrow?"

Scarecrow turned, and his eyes met the other man. Something I didn't understand passed silently between them. The bartender lowered his eyes in submission, "No offense to you ma'am. I was just messing around."

I looked up into Scarecrow's chiseled face and noticed how he projected a sense of terror in those around him.

"Indy, this is Jake. Jake this is Indy, she is mine."

I bristled immediately, "I am not his!"

I might have gotten away with it if he hadn't have pulled me in for a ruthless kiss. I might have fought him for half a second when my body overtook my good sense. With the one free hand I had, I grabbed his hair and tugged him closertomy mouth. He kissed me harshly, breathlessly, and part of me was just holding on for dear life.

It wasn't until he went to pull away and I whimpered in dismay, that I realized we had an audience. There was silence in the bar.

Jake had a shit eating grin on his face, "Yeah, I see how it is, ma'am."

Scarecrow didn't even respond. He simply pulled me to a staircase in the back, and then hollered out, "I am not to be disturbed, Jake."

Jake's laugh followed me all the way up the stairs.

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