Page 13 of Hell on Wheels

Why did I care? No idea.

Maybe I felt protected for the first time in my life by someone other than my stepbrother. Or perhaps I just wanted to let someone in because keeping everyone out was fucking exhausting. Maybe I wanted to feel something real instead of the fake life I’d been leading.

The truck slowed down and then parked on the side of the road. The biker slowly turned my way and lowered his sunglasses, placing them on the dash. I blinked when I saw the cloudy irises and the scar below his right eye that pulled the skin downward slightly.

“I’m partially blind, so it’s hard to see detail, but I figure it’s as bad as I can imagine.” He swallowed hard. “I served in Afghanistan and Iraq during Operation Freedom’s Sentinel and the global war on terrorism. Shrapnel damaged my body in a few places, but those aren’t the worst scars. I was flashed during an explosion that killed five of the brothers I served with and damaged my vision. I’ve never told a single soul what happened until now. Only the review board knows the whole story.” He reached for my hand and held it, his thumb grazing over my skin and sending little electric volts up my arm.

“My name is Flint Shepherd.”

“Hi, Flint,” I whispered, lifting my knees and scooting closer. Confessing all that had happened to me left my mind screaming to think of something else. All I wanted was to escape. Memories weren’t my friend. My fingers began to stroke the beard on his chin, and I leaned in, letting my lips linger close to his own.

“Don’t,” he warned. “Neither of us is in a good place right now. I’m not fucking you in my truck when we’re exposed, and the enemy could catch us unaware.”

“Flint, who said we’re going to sleep together?”

He didn’t buy the innocent tone. “Listen, little dove. You’re gonna straighten your clothes, buckle up, and try to get some rest. I wager you’re running on pure adrenaline right now, and when it crashes, you’re gonna be done. We’ll talk more when we’ve both had a chance to process the shit that happened this afternoon. Until then, you’re gonna close your eyes. I’ll wake you when we reach our destination.”

“Where’s that?”

“Tonopah.”

That was what I thought.

A part of me wanted to reject him and his proposal. It wouldn’t be too hard to jump from the truck and walk away, but that left me in the open and unprotected. Flint didn’t strike me as a predator or a monster, and I knew those kinds of men too well. Chewing on my bottom lip, I conceded.

My head bobbed in agreement, and I listened to what he asked, using my jean jacket as a pillow. Kane chose that moment to wake up, and he licked my hand before snuggling close against my side. His warmth was all I needed to relax.

My eyes fluttered, and I knew if I could trust a single person on this earth, it would be a man who fought and served his country with enough morals to reject my desperate attempt to engage him in sex.

If he tried anything funny, I had a switchblade in my pocket and within reach. I wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

“WAKE UP, LITTLE DOVE. We’re here.”

Blinking, I sat up and stifled a yawn, staring into the intense expression of the man risking his life to bring me to safety. He wasn’t a fool. I didn’t tell him all the details, but he could connect some dots. It wasn’t hard to surmise that I was in trouble and my life was in danger.

“Come on. I need to find Patriot.”

Patriot? Was that a Marine too?

Flint left the truck and called Kane, who stayed close to his side as Flint clipped his leash and placed the sunglasses on over his eyes. I closed the door to the truck and noticed we had parked in a massive, gated lot. A few guys stood by the perimeter fencing and seemed to be watching the surrounding desert for possible signs of trouble. Buildings stretched in front of us, but one loomed more prominent than the others. Loud rock music was blaring from inside. I could smell weed and cigarettes. A few men in black leather vests smoked around the front door as we approached.

Flint’s hand closed around mine, and he tugged me closer, lowering his voice before we stepped inside. “You ever been around bikers or in a clubhouse?”

I shook my head.

“Rough bunch. Booze, cigarettes, pussy. It’s the norm.”

“I understand.”

“Stick close to me. I don’t want any of the guys thinking that you’re fair game.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“They’ll want to fuck you like a club whore,” he answered, knowing I was curious. “Unless that’s what you want, then stick by my side. Got it?”

“Okay.”

Flint squeezed my hand, and we entered the building with the wordsThe Crossroadsin big letters above the door’s thick frame. The noise in the room quieted considerably as curious stares roamed over us. I’d seen enough in my young life that the couples making out and the bar scene didn’t shock me. Neither did the girl bouncing on a guy’s dick in the corner or the man fingering another woman as she spread her legs wide, and he leaned over her, pinning her in place on the surface of a pool table.

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