Page 23 of Savage Protector

“You want me to tell the story or not?”

I nodded my head, his hand still wrapped around my mouth.

“Our family didn't start out in the club. My father was in the Army when I was born. So I guess you could say the military was in my blood as much as the MC. But after spending some time in the sand box during Desert Shield and Desert Storm, he got out. That's when him and his best friend started the club.

I guess back then it was fun. They wanted to spend as much time as possible on the road where they could ride free. Freedom is a huge focus for a biker. Over the years the club grew from guys wanting to live on their own terms to a focus on how to make easy money. Life stopped being simple.”

I stopped trying to interject and got lost in his story of growing up with a motorcycle club. He didn’t say too much about hardcore criminal activity, but there was plenty about fighting, drinking, smoking weed and wild sex to keep me entertained. I had a feeling there was a lot he wasn’t telling me, but I expected that at this point.

The two of us lying in bed was as natural to me as if I’d known him for years. Some of the violence and danger he witnessed reminded me of my own family. Early on I was a nosy child and I used to sneak around the house listening to my father. Those were stories I could never share with anyone. I barely comprehended them myself.

By the time he got to the part about his mother’s accidental death though, silent tears were streaming down my face. I could see the pain shining in his eyes. We were two totally different people with different backgrounds, yet we shared many similarities.

“Shhh. It’s okay, Princess. You don’t have to cry for me.” He was rubbing his hand up and down my back trying to soothe me. And it did. I wanted to tell him about my mother too, but the memories were still too harsh. My mother had been gone less than a month when my father informed me that I was getting engaged to a stranger. I thought I was going to finally start college, albeit a few years later than most people.

That memory dried my tears. The cruel man I called father did not deserve them.

“It’s three in the morning, beautiful and we’ve been talking for hours. I think we should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” I whispered. I did feel drained. And for the moment I was safe. My badass biker Marine would make sure of it. I smiled and tucked his hand under my chin. I closed my eyes and savored his warmth. I was sleepy…

“Hey, Princess.” His voice sounded so far away.

“Hmmm.”

“Why did you run away from your wedding?”

I was wrapped in a nice safe cocoon where nothing and no one could get to me. I was even floating on the edges of sleep…

“Because I was afraid of what the man I was being forced to marry was going to do to me and I didn’t want to die.”

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