Page 61 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

“I should have never brought them back,” she says. “They’re useless.”

“They need guidance,” Wyatt says. “Now… Let’s get the fuck out of here. Deacon? Ready to ride?”

“Yes, boss. Thanks.”

The ride would only be morepleasant if I could hear Keyshawn’s voice at least once or have some reassurance thatshe’s okay. I can’t stand the thought of this much time passing without holding her or touching her. The moment my dick first touched her lips, I knew that woman would be mine forever.

I can’t stand the thought of not getting her back. What if Juliette’s right? What if she ran away?

Wyattand I get to the bus station in the evening. No businesses open. No one around that looks like they would have a clue about Keyshawn. I try to put myself in her shoes. She would be here with nothing but the clothes on her back. She would want to place a phone call…

We walk across the street from the bus station to where we parked the bikes. A chick with pink hair walks out of a closed coffee shop holding a trash bag. She yelps when she sees us, then apologizes.

“Sorry, you startled me! I’m just uh… taking the trash out… please don’t kill me…”

“Hey,” Wyatt snaps at her. “You seen a black woman around here?”

“Excuse me?” the girl says, subtly reaching into her pocket for what looks like a can of pepper spray. I take a step behind Wyatt just in case.

“A few days ago, his girlfriend got off a bus here. Dark skin. Pregnant. Did you see her?”

“Um… no.”

“You’re lying,” Wyatt says. “I play poker. I know a bluff.”

“I’m not telling some criminals about what I did or didn’t see. Now back off or I’ll pepper spray your ass!”

Christ.

“Wait!”I yell, although I stay behind Wyatt just in case she sprays him. “I’m her boyfriend. And anyway…”

I step out from behind Wyatt. Because thereisstill a part of me fucking crazy enough to take an eye full of pepper spray from Wyatt.

“Even with a face full of pepper spray the two of us could easily subdue you and drag you out to the desert. So if you saw Keyshawn, tell us.”

She drops the trash bag and raises one hand with the pepper spray while sticking the other in her pocket. Judging by the pink hair, I doubt it’s a gun…

And it isn’t.

“I lether use my phone the other day,” she says. “Okay? She seemed really confused but very nice so if you kill her or do anything crazy to her… I’m calling the police.”

“Who did she call?”

“I was minding my business at work. I don’t know. Look.”

She showsus the call history. Wyatt taps the number into his phone.

“Thanks.”

He says.He reaches into his pocket and hands her a hundred dollar bill.

“Um. Is that counterfeit?”

“No. It’s a tip. Thanks.”

He nodsat me and we leave little miss pink-hair on the street, gazing at her hundred dollar bill. I appreciate Wyatt’s instincts because it beats standing around making small talk. We have the number we need…

“Let’s call at the motel,” Wyatt says. “Wherever she is… I doubt she stayed too close to the bus station.”

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