Page 29 of My Secret to Protect

'Nah, it can't.'

Throwing his cue down on the table, he turned and walked away as Horse told both girls to get their asses upstairs, and I shook my head as I followed Viking. I expected him to call church and lead me into the chapel where we held club meetings, but he kept walking until we found ourselves in the yard. He lit a cigarette and grabbed a box of dog treats to start handing out to his girls, two pit bulls, and a rottweiler.

'You in trouble?' he asked, and I shook my head as I crouched to scratch Ronda, the rottweiler, behind her ears.

'Nah, no trouble.' I pushed up to stand. 'I want out.'

He stilled, his head dropping for a moment before he lifted it and met my eyes with his.

'Body bags, kid. You know the drill.'

I nodded. I did know. I'd lived in this clubhouse my whole life. I understood the workings of the club better than I understood life outside of it.

'I'll pay,' I offered. 'I know I need to pay. Tell me what you need.'

'Why?' he asked, and I held his gaze until he shook his head. 'Fuck,' he breathed. 'She worth it?'

'She's worth it.'

'Then I guess I need to decide your price.'

Not A Soccer Mom

Arlo

There’snothingonBree’sporch when I approach. I try not to make it obvious that I’m scanning for any signs he’s been here, but that’s the only reason I find myself at her door at seven in the morning. I can’t see any gifts or cameras, not even a door camera for Bree’s benefit, but I don’t trust that he isn’t watching and listening.

Knocking on the door, I wait.

‘What are you…’ her voice trails off as her gaze eats me up, and fuck, I can’t even begin to pretend I don’t like that. Jesus Christ.

‘Mornin’, short stuff.’ I grin as I push forward, backing her up into her place and shutting the door behind us. She’s cute as hell in her little shorts and cropped shirt. All mussed up from what appears to have been another restless night.

‘Arlo, what the hell.’

‘Go and get dressed, pix. I told you I was taking you out.’

‘But it’s Saturday morning.’ She groans, and I see now how tired she looks. She clearly didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and I feel a little guilty, but just a little.

‘Exactly, we’ve got to get out there, seize the day.’

‘I want to seize my pillow and get some sleep.’

‘Trust me, sugar, we’re going to have a good day. Dress for a ride.’

Her eyes widen, and she holds my gaze.

‘What?’

‘You heard me,’ I grab her shoulders and turn her in the direction of the stairs, then smack her ass, earning me a shocked little gasp that goes straight to my dick. ‘Get dressed.’

‘I can’t,’ Bree says as we stand next to my bike, and I pull the bucket helmet onto her head. She looks so fuckin’ hot in her faded black jeans and gray t-shirt that it’s killing me, but I’m starting to lean into it. I reached the decision around midnight when I found myself with my dick in my hand, and the memory of her pressed against me on that dance floor on my mind. I may not be able to forgive her, but I’m attracted to her, so I’m going to stop punishing myself for that. She doesn’t need to know what I’m thinking and feeling once my doors are closed.

‘We both know you can.’ I tap her hip and climb onto my bike, and she releases a deep breath before climbing on behind me. Muscle memory has me reaching back to grab her thigh, and I pull her closer so she brings her chest flush with my back, wrapping her arms around me. I can’t think too long about how much I like the feel of her body pressed to mine. Instead, I take us away, out onto the quiet country roads.

I haven’t been to this place in a while. I used to come up here to get some headspace out of the city while I was adjusting to life outside of the prison walls. I don’t know why I thought to ride out here this morning. When I lay awake last night, staring at the ceiling while Beans snored his ass off on the floor next to my bed, I couldn’t get Bree off my mind. Yeah, I’d already spent a good portion of my time thinking about her legs, her ass, how fucking spectacular her tits look in those tanks she likes to wear, but it was a different kind of thought that brought us to right now. I remembered the tiredness in her eyes, the lack of fight in her. She needs to get that fight back. I have a feeling that when this stalking son of a bitch shows his hand, we’re both going to have a fight on ours. I need her to be ready for that.

I pull my bike onto the dirt road and feel Bree’s grip loosen as I slow down. I want to grab her hands and keep them wrapped around me, but she’s not my girl, and she’s no stranger to riding on the back of a motorcycle, so I let her do what she needs to do. She doesn’t let go completely, just eases off, and that’ll do.

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