Page 8 of Falling for the Biker
A faint, almost imperceptible huff of air escapes him—not quite a laugh, but an acknowledgment.
He really is like gas. The potential for a controlled burn, yes, but also for a sudden, explosive flash. Unpredictable. Intense.
The way he sighs —a low, rumbling sound of resignation —only confirms my suspicion.
Despite my smile, a sobering thought cuts through the warmth blooming in my chest. Did I really go to the right guy? But looking at him now, seeing the honest weariness in his stance, I know the answer.
Even if he is dangerous, there’s an unshakable truth about him. He’s the kind of man who, once he gives his word, will seea thing through to the bitter end. And that, more than anything, makes me feel safe.
4
Diesel
The ride to her apartment is a test of will. At every red light, I lay out the plan—stakeout, identify, intimidate. The words are simple, but my concentration is broken by the constant, warm pressure of her arms around my waist.
Each shift of her body against mine is a fresh distraction, a spark trying to catch tinder. I’m already thinking of excuses to get her back on the bike in the near future, and that’s the first warning bell. I’m craving the contact I’m supposed to be avoiding.
While I’m the one facing mental battles, she’s determined to see this through. She’s focused in ways that I need to be.
For the next few days, she’ll pretend everything is alright, and I’ll keep an eye out. Once I catch whoever’s making her uncomfortable, I’ll take care of him. Simple. Clean.
“Thank you, Diesel.” Even against the rumble of my bike, I don’t miss the softness in her voice. Or the way she pressescloser, her cheek resting against my shoulder blade for a second. The contact feels like a shock to my heart, making it beat that much faster.
Unsure of what kind of sound might escape if I open my mouth, a grunt is the only safe response. It’s a wall I put up, brick by brick.
Ruby lives in Ridgeway Court, and I’m hardly surprised by the lack of real cameras. The place has a defeated feel. Parking, I follow her off the bike, my hand hovering near the small of her back without actually touching it. I tell myself it’s just to guide her, but the lie is thin. I don’t pull back until she’s digging for her keys, and my eyes catch on a cat charm dangling from the ring—its ears sharp enough to puncture skin. Oddly, it makes me feel a little better. Has she ever used it? The thought of Ruby fighting someone off sends a cold slice of anger through my gut.
“You’re not just going to sit outside the whole time, are you?” When I shrug, her nose scrunches in a way that’s annoyingly adorable. “You can come in if you need to warm up. I’d hate for you to get sick. I’ve got… I don’t know. Tea. Coffee. Um, hot cocoa.”
Yeah, that’s what I need, the introduction of an addiction to something sweet.
Something sharp twists deep inside me, urging me to agree. To join her at every small gust of wind, or each chill that crawls up my spine.
She gives me a smile that lingers a second too long, a ghost of something that haunts me before she turns to the door. Then, without another word, she freezes up. Right before the key hits the lock, her whole body goes rigid. Her lips part, and I see the faintest wobble before she grimaces, her eyes finding mine.
They’re wide, like a doe’s right before the final blow.
My gaze drops to the doorknob. Fresh, deep gouges scar the metal. The sight doesn’t just piss me off; it flips a switch deep in my hindbrain.
I brush past her, my arm sliding against hers. The worry of keeping distance is now a secondary note beneath the roaring in my ears. The door is unlocked. The son of a bitch was here. He violated her space.
Thesimpleplan is nothing but. What replaces it is something more demanding and absolute.
Mine.The thought is immediate, a whisper of possessiveness that has always been there since the moment I laid my eyes on her.
There must be something wrong with me. It’s not just the protective instinct from growing up in a rough life with my sister. This is different. Seeing Ruby scared, truly scared, does something to me. It unravels a thread I keep tightly wound.
It makes me want to put myself between her and every bad thing in the world, and it feels like I have no say in the matter.
Is this it? Have I found another weakness in my life?
Reaching behind me, my fingers find the familiar hilt of my knife. The cold steel is a reality check. Judge’s words. Follow the rules. But the rules feel paper-thin next to the tremor in Ruby’s silence.
Ready to step inside, I pause. I’m not alone. Ruby is behind me, all soft edges and shaky breaths. I can smell her perfume, something like vanilla, and it’s all wrong for this moment.
“Stay close.” The command is a low growl, ripped from a part of me I keep caged. The knife is in my hand before I’ve even decided to draw it, the cold steel a familiar comfort. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Her sharp intake of breath slices through me, and I know in that moment that Judge’s rules, my own fucking rules, mean nothing.
