Page 19 of Her Outlaw Biker
I grind my teeth, shove the phone into my back pocket, and head to the tiny kitchenette at the edge of the trailer. I crack a window for air and move on autopilot—eggs, toast, a couple pieces of jerky from my stash.
She’s going to need food in her belly. Hell, we both are.
I glance back at the bed. Clover’s still out cold, one bare leg hooked over the blanket. She looks so…peaceful. And vulnerable as hell.
Too vulnerable.
I plate the food and set it down on the rickety table, then move to the bed. For a moment, I just stand there, watching her sleep. It does something to me…twists something deep in my chest. This girl has no idea the kind of storm she’s caught up in.
But I’ll do anything to keep her safe. That’s for damn sure.
I lean down and press a kiss to her temple. Then another, just at the corner of her lips.
She stirs, lashes fluttering. “Mmm…Ghost?”
“Morning, little bird,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “Time to rise and shine.”
She blinks up at me, confused, still half dreaming. “What time is it?”
“Doesn’t matter.” I slide an arm under her back, helping her sit. “I made breakfast. You’re gonna need all your strength. We’ve got a long day ahead.”
She frowns a little, but doesn’t argue. Just nods and stretches, the sheet falling away from her bare shoulder. I make myself look away before I do something foolish, like crawl back into bed and forget the world’s trying to burn us alive.
While she eats—quietly and delicately, like she’s not used to someone cooking for her—I unzip the storage bench and pull out my old army duffel. The weight of it is familiar, grounding.
I lay out my weapons one by one. Pistol. Another pistol. Combat knife. Ammo. The sawed-off shotgun. My hands work fast, muscle memory from a life I never fully left behind.
Behind me, Clover speaks up, voice soft. “You’re loading up.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Slowly, she sets down her fork. “What’s going on?”
I hesitate. I could lie. Say it’s just a precaution. Say it’s routine.
But I don’t want to lie to her.
“We need to leave,” I say instead. “Soon.”
She watches me, eyes steady, then nods. “Okay.”
No panic. No protests. Just trust.
I look at her again. really look at the wild, brave little bird who showed up at my door with secrets and fire in her eyes. She’s more than a girl caught in the cross fire now. She’s the only thing keeping me from slipping back into the dark.
“Finish eating,” I say quietly. “Then pack light. We’re not coming back.”
Chapter Seven
Clover
We’ve been riding for a while and the roar of Ghost’s monstrous bike is the only thing keeping me grounded—or maybe it’s the steady beat of his heart beneath my arms.
I wonder what he’s thinking. Does he regret burning it all down? Although it was just a trailer, it was his home for three years. He torched it up without a second thought.
I shiver at the memory, tightening my arms around him. The dry wind rushes around our helmets in a loud roar as the motorcycle races over the empty terrain. I can feel the tension in his muscles as he navigates us through the desert roads.
Maybe I should have asked questions. Maybe I shouldn’t trust him, but for some reason, I do. With my life. Ghost has proven himself more trustworthy in just two days than any other man in my life. Yet, I wish he would tell me what’s going on…why we’re on the run.
