Page 8 of Marked by the Protective Biker

I let out a breath. “Thanks.”

He nods and turns on his heel as Miller chuckles. “Oh. Woman troubles. I get that.”

“Miller, you don’t even know the half of it.”

He laughs, leans back, and closes his eyes.

I pick up the tattoo gun again and get to work. The quicker I work, the faster I get to Emily.

CHAPTER 6

EMILY

I blow out a breath as I walk out of the bookstore. Work today was… off. That’s the only way I know how to describe it. I knew it would be different without Jack there. A part of me was waiting for him to walk into my office because he’d done something foolish and gotten himself put back in. Another part of me walked around with my head on a swivel. I didn’t realize how much comfort it brought me knowing that Jack was at the prison.

My individual sessions were okay, and nothing happened out of the ordinary. But the group session went off the rails. I tried to convince myself it was all in my head, but at the end of the session, one of the newer inmates walked over to talk to me and tried to intimidate me. His name is Richard, and he’s in for armed robbery and a list of other things. He wanted private sessions with me, and then he made comments about what he’d like to do with me in those sessions. Bradley, the guard, was about to intervene when another inmate, someone I know that is friendly with Jack, came in and practically dragged Richard out of the room. “Sorry, Ms. Riles. It won’t happen again.”

I was holding folders to my chest and trying to catch my breath when Bradley walked up to me. “Emily, are you okay? I’m so sorry. I should have realized everyone didn’t walk out. I wasn’t quick enough, I?—”

I held my hand up to calm him even though I was feeling rattled. “Bradley, I’m fine. It’s okay.”

Bradley was shaking his head, and it was obvious he was not happy with the turn of events. “I shouldn’t have left the room. I thought?—”

He stopped talking abruptly, and I looked at him curiously. “You thought what?”

He gritted his teeth. “I thought that Jack had this under control. I thought they’d leave you alone.”

I refused to have a conversation about Jack with Bradley. Not that I don’t trust him, but I don’t want to get him into the middle of anything.

“I’m fine, Bradley, I promise.”

I hugged the older man, and then he walked me to my office.

When I left work, I didn’t want to go straight home to an empty house.

I saw the two bikers waiting in the parking lot of the prison. I noticed the club name on their jackets, and I recognized it as the same one that Jack is a member of.

I was in the bookstore for over an hour, and now as I stand outside on the sidewalk, I see the same two guys parked just down the block.

I sit on a bench because it’s obvious these guys are following me, and I’m not sure I want them to follow me home. As I sit here and think, I can’t stop my thoughts from going to Jack.

Maybe he was right; maybe I’m not as safe at the prison as I thought I was, but I’m not going to quit. Nope, I’m going to stay because I know I can make a difference there. But I am going to make sure I make some changes so that I’m protected.

I pull my phone from my purse just as I hear another motorcycle come down the road. I don’t even have to see him to know it’s Jack. It’s like my body is on high alert; my nipples pebble and my breath hitches.

I sit up straighter and watch as he passes by me and parks his bike next to his friends. They talk for a second, and one of the men I don’t know points right at me. Jack looks at me, and I swear I can feel his gaze sweep down my body.

I’m holding my breath as he fist bumps the other two and then walks down the sidewalk toward me.

The other two start up their bikes and drive away as Jack comes to stand in front of me. “How you doing, honey?”

His voice is gruff, and he seems anxious as he waits for my response. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him about the guy at the prison, but I don’t say a word. Instead of answering him, I ask my own question. “Are your friends following me?”

He points at the empty seat next to me. “Can I sit down?”

I nod, and he sits next to me. He doesn’t sit close, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I don’t want there to be distance between us, but I also don’t trust myself with him either.

He sits down and turns to the side so he’s facing me. I feel my body heat under his scrutiny, and I stutter out the words, “Are you going to answer me?”

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