Page 13 of Her Obsessed Biker
“He didn’t even say anything,” she whispers. “Didn’t even ask my name.”
I clench my jaw. “Doesn’t mean he didn’t feel it.”
She shakes her head. “Then why didn’t he say something?”
I don’t have an answer. I don’t make excuses for other men. But I see the way her hands shake, and fuck me…I hate it.
So I do the one thing I never do.
I pull her into me, and I let her fall apart.
She’s warm in my arms. Small but strong in ways I can’t explain. I don’t do this…I don’t comfort, hold, care. I thought I wasn’t built for it, thought it wasn’t in my blood. But with her…with Piper, it feels natural. Inevitable.
She lets me hold her, long enough for the storm in her chest to calm, for the breath she’s been choking on to come back. Then she steps back.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, brushing her fingers across her cheek, though there’s nothing there. No tears. Just rawness.
I let her go, my hands dropping slowly to my sides. She tucks her hair behind one ear, avoiding my eyes.
“I guess I should leave now,” she says, forcing a small smile, like it doesn’t sting her to say it.
The words hit me harder than they should.
Leave?
Just like that?
She’s only been here a few hours, but the thought of her disappearing into the night…into some shitty roadside motel or worse, makes something tighten in my chest like a vise.
I’ve spent years keeping people at arm’s length. Hell, most never get close enough to even try. But she walked into my life andflipped the switch without even knowing it. And now the world feels too fucking dark without her in it.
Still…I can’t cage her. Won’t.
If she wants to go, I’ll let her. But not tonight.
Not like this.
“Don’t,” I say before I can stop myself.
She tilts her head, confusion flickering in those ocean eyes. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t go.”
She blinks. “Why?”
I exhale through my nose, steadying my voice. “Because it’s not safe.”
She raises a brow, clearly not buying it. So I spell it out.
“It’s late. You’re alone. And those guys who cornered you earlier?” My jaw flexes. “They’re not my club members. They’re Sons of Decimation. A rival crew. They’ve been sniffing around town the past few weeks. Stirring shit up. Looking for cracks.”
She frowns. “You think they’re still around?”
“I don’t think,” I grit out. “I know they are. And they saw you. Alone. Vulnerable. You really wanna risk it out there with just your old truck?”
Her expression falters. For a second, she looks so small. So fragile.
She doesn’t answer right away. Just stares off into the dark tree line like she’s trying to calculate the weight of her next move.
