Page 225 of Come Back to Me

“What?!”

“Don’t freak out,” he attempts (and fails) to soothe. “It’ll be fine, but do not get out of the truck.”

I squawk: “If I can’t, then neither can you!”

He chuckles, low and gnarly. It has no right to be sexy, but it is. All of a sudden, I’m looking at DirtyCodyand he’s about to ask some punks if they’re feeling lucky.

I refuse to squirm because he clearly thinks the motorcycles present a danger and, to be fair, bikers don’t tend to ride in that formation.

You know, double file, sure. But horizontally, not vertically. Taking up the entire width of the road so that they block both sides is out of the norm.

Whatever the fuck’s going on, Cody believes it’s about us, so I gird my loins, shove my inappropriate attraction aside for later, when those bikes drive right on by and leave us the hell alone.

That should happen in six, five, four...

The Satan’s Sinners would never do this.

They’re not that stupid.

Three.

Is anyone that stupid?

Two.

Who’d try to knowingly intimidate a cop? And how do they even know Cody’s behind the wheel? We’re riding in his personal truck.

One.

They overtake us.

Thank fuck.

They’re not too stupid to live.

Only…

My hope sours as, instead of driving on, a good swell of them circle us, which has Cody snapping, “Fuck!”

His palm pummels the front of the wheel, blaring the horn, but it wasn’t intentional, more as a way to diffuse his anger.

A few of the bikers stick their tongues out at me between the ‘V’ of their pointer and middle fingers.

Gross.

These guys don’t look like the Satan’s Sinners either. They’re varying levels of dirty and grody.

I turn away from them, not wanting them to think they’re intimidating me.

(It’s totally working.)

(Man, does this mean I’m more forgiving of the Sinners committing acts of murder because they’re pretty?!)

Before I can accept exactly how superficial I am, Cody snarls, “You stay in the goddamn truck, Tee.” That he’s repeating himself tells me more than he probably wants me to know.

“I will.” I won’t disobey. Not much. “What do they want?”

“I don’t know. I assume it’s something to do with the shooting at the bar.”

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