Page 10 of Biker Daddies

I’d never cross that line.

If Harlow does like me, of course it would be the one woman I can’t have. Just the thought has my temper rising and hitting the throttle harder, speeding down the empty road.

The sound of my engine screaming through the darkness brings me comfort, calming my rage.

The campus comes into view and I slow down to the speed limit, then stretch out my arm, signaling I’m turning right and into the parking lot of Harlow’s apartment complex.

We slow over the speed bumps and when we get outside her building, we park.

“You gave us a heart attack swerving off the road like that. What the fuck, man?” Colt rips his helmet off and slams it on his seat. “That isn’t like you. What happened?”

“None of your fucking business,” I sneer at him.

I don’t want to tell him anything. My experiences are mine and no one has the right to them but me.

“You’re a dick.” Colt lights a cigarette, but I snatch it from his mouth and toss it to the ground, smashing it with my boot for good measure.

“We aren’t going to be out here long enough for you to smoke that. Get your head out of your ass. He swerved. Get over it.” Alto slides his phone out of his pocket and calls Harlow.

I push Colt, then Colt wraps his arm around my neck, putting me in a headlock.

Alto puts the call on speaker.

“Ello?” she finally answers after too many rings.

“Where are you?” Alto growls.

My heart once again pounds in my chest when I hear how drunk she is.

“Who are you?” she mumbles.

“It’s Alto. Where are you?” he repeats.

“Not telling.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and counts to three. “Harlow. Tell me you’re home. Now.”

“Nope.” She moans. “I don’t feel good.”

I stand in front of him and snatch the phone from his hand, taking it off speakerphone. “Harlow.” Her name is a deep rumble in my throat while I stare at her bedroom window.

I can’t see through it because the curtains are closed, but I bet that’s exactly where she is.

She inhales a sharp breath when she hears my voice. “Bane?”

“Confirm you’re home or I’m going to bust down your front door. Then, I’ll tell your dad about what you’ve been up to tonight.”

“I’m home,” she mumbles, hanging up the phone, and I hand Alto his phone back.

“She’s here.”

“She always listens to you,” he says, our boots scuffing against the ground as we practically run to the entrance.

I scoff. “She listened because I threatened her with Grizzly.” I type in Harlow’s code for the door to open and the lock clicks.

Colt swings it open, and we barrel inside.

It’s a good thing it’s so late—if anyone saw us in our MC cuts, they would be terrified.

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