Page 7 of The Secrets We Keep

I grind my teeth as I toss Rowan his phone and walk out the door with him hot on my heels. “Where are you going?” He asks.

“Fucking Sunrise Inn,” I growl.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

We make our way through the clubhouse and to our bikes in the large garage. Rowan hops on his bike at the same time I hop on mine, and we take off an instant later. We tear off the gravel road and onto the highway, flying through town and to the pit that Sophie decided to stay in.

Multiple creeps scatter as we pull into the parking lot of the Sunrise Inn, the sight of our bikes and patches warning them away. In this town, everyone respects the skull and crown patch, even the lowlifes. We park our bikes and walk into the so-called waiting area. The front desk worker’s face pales when he sees us.

“Uh, what can I do for you?” He squeaks.

“Where is Sophie Parker staying?” I growl.

He quickly looks at the logs, his hands shaking as he searches for Sophie’s name. “R-room 217,” he stutters.

I’m moving before he even finishes his sentence, heading toward the stairs and taking them two at a time. I hear Rowan behind me but don’t slow down, following the signs until I find her room. I step up to it and pound on the door until it flies open.

Sophie is standing there in an oversized t-shirt; her blonde hair is wild around her shoulders and her eyes are wide in shock. “What the hell do you want?” She asks breathlessly.

“You’re not staying in this dump, get your shit and let’s go,” I bark out as I push past her and into the room, finding her son frowning at me from the bed.

“You can’t just barge into this room, Grayson!” Sophie growls as she follows after me.

“I can and I did. Get your shit together,” I tell her as I turn around to face her.

She stops in front of me, scowling up at me and trying to look intimidating, but failing miserably since she’s only five foot two and I’m six foot four.

“We’re not going anywhere with you,” she mutters.

I turn my attention on her son. “How would you like to ride on the back of a motorcycle?” I ask him with a smile plastered on my face.

“Can we mom?” He asks as he jumps from the bed and rushes to put on his jacket and shoes.

Sophie glares at me even harder, if that’s even possible. “No, Ash, we’re going to stay here.”

“No, you’re not,” I tell her. “You’re going to pack your things and go back to the clubhouse with Rowan and me. You’re not staying in this dump.” I step even closer to her, causing her to back up a step. “You can come willingly, or I’ll carry you out myself. What’s it going to be Soph?” I ask her with a maniacal smile.

****

She chose option number two.

After Rowan and I packed up everything in the hotel room, along with the help of Asher, he carried the bags down to the waiting SUV that Noah drove over while Asher followed behind him.

I stalk toward Sophie as she backs up toward the bathroom shaking her head.

“No,” she whispers.

“Oh yeah, Soph,” I murmur before I lunge for her, grabbing her by the hips and throwing her over my shoulder. She starts to flail, so I slap her on the ass, making her stiffen in surprise. “I’ll do it again,” I warn her.

She doesn’t move again as I take her from the room and down the stairs. Nor when I give the front desk worker cash to cover her room and walk out to our bikes. Noah had the smart idea to bring us helmets and we find Asher sitting on the back of Rowan’s bike with a wide smile on his face.

“Mama! Look how cool I look,” he calls to Sophie.

She lifts herself up enough to see and immediately starts pounding on my back. “He’s not riding on a motorcycle! He’s too little!”

I swat her on the ass again. “He’s bigger than I was the first time I rode on a bike and Rowan will take it easy on the drive back. He’ll be completely fine. I’m going to put you down and you’re going to climb on the back of my bike. A prospect already took all of your things back to the clubhouse, and that’s where I’mtaking you.”

I put her on the ground and can’t help but chuckle at her appearance. Her struggle has only made her look even sexier. Her hair is mussed, her face is flushed, her nipples are poking through the thin material of her t-shirt. Her breathing is ragged, and each breath pushes her breasts up and out.

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