Page 47 of Bride for the Bikers

I shake my head. “Waiting sucks, but having you with us will just make it harder to—”

“No.” She stands firm, hands on her hips and chin high. “She’s going to be scared and alone. What are you going to do? Charge in there looking like you do and say: ‘Don’t fucking scream. We’re the fucking good guys. I know you just almost fucking died and then got fucking kidnapped and you’re on who the fuck knows what kind of drugs, but just fucking trust us and don’t scream your fucking head off because you’re getting kidnappedagain.’”

Outlaw blinks.

Lightning bursts out laughing.

“We don't swear that fucking much,” I object.

The glare she throws my way is withering.

Even Shadow looks like he's having a tough time keeping a straight face. “She's probably right. Her and Carnell are our best shots at doing this without having to get violent, and she’s the only person her mama would recognize. But…” He turns right to Harper, “You remember the rules, right? You’re with us, and you’re gonna do what we fucking say. Is that fucking clear?”

“Fucking clear,” she growls right back.

“Jesus.” Outlaw rolls his eyes. “Let’s go talk to Prez.”

“I don't fucking like this,” Eagle-eye growls after we've explained. “That cop already screwed you over once. He might not be a psycho like Hawthorne, but we’ve seen what that kindof obsession can do. He’ll throw you under the fucking bus to get what he wants. This better be fucking worth it.” He looks right at Harper, leaving out asking us ifshe’sworth it.

“It is,” I say.

He doesn’t look away from her. “I hope Thunder’s right, because their blood will be on your hands, girl.”

Harper's eyes widen as she looks at each of us. I think because of how we met, she’s been feeling like we’re all in this together, when the reality is that once we made it back to the compound, our part in this mess was technically over. Anything we do from now on is for her.

“Fine, but I’m not sending you on your own.” Prez leans back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. “There's a lot going on, so teams are busy. The Fallen Angels just got triplets in their fucking laps, so they're out. Go talk to Sledge. He’s been working with the prospects since we had to clean house and could use a change of scenery. Take him and whoever he wants to bring.”

“Appreciate this, Prez,” I say.

“Like I could fucking stop you,” he grumbles. “Now you fuckers better come home safe, or I'm bringing the whole fucking club up there to kill you assholes all over again.”

27

OUTLAW

When the lightsof Vegas appear on the horizon, a wave of deja vu washes over me. Has it only been a week since we drove into town thinking we could hit Mesner hard and run? So much has happened since then that it feels like a fucking lifetime.

There’s still a dull ache in my side from where I got popped, but Doc helped fix me up and I’m not as worried about springing a leak every time I hit a pothole. We made good time, only stopping to stretch and grab a bite to eat as we drove through the night. Shadow's riding point, with Harper on his bike. The wonder twins are bringing up our rear, with Sledge, Phoenix and Havoc riding alongside.

Sledge took it hard when we found a traitor in the group, and he’s thrown himself into the club like a fucking animal ever since. He’s been brutal with the prospects, but Reaper and Beast have kept on trucking. Normally I wouldn't like the idea of running with anyone who hasn’t been sworn in, but they were there when shit went down this past winter. They’ve seen what it means to ride with us, and they’re still with us.

Harper turns her head, blonde hair sticking out below her helmet and fluttering in the wind.

She’s going to tear us apart if she leaves. I can feel it. Thunder and Lightning are already sliding from lust to love, and Shadow’s more cautious, but right behind them. It would be so fucking easy to join up. The feel of her hand on my cock and those big blue eyes is fucking burned into my brain. I slipped up, let myself think she would be out of our lives by now.

Shit…

She thinks I’m some sort of hero for taking a bullet, but the truth is it was easy. Hell, I’d do it again without even hesitating. I don’t have a death wish, but what the fuck is my life worth, really? The people who created me didn’t give a shit, and the ones who came after them returned me to the store like a puppy who got too big once they had theirrealfucking kid. It’s easier not to get attached.

But somehow in spite of everything, the Eagles became my family, and Shadow, Thunder and Lightning my brothers.

And now one woman could destroy all of that by walking away.

Or sticking around, and revealing whatever fundamentally broken thing is inside me.

I’m a fucking coward.

It’s two AM, but Vegas is such a twenty-four seven circus that our group riding through doesn’t stick out much, and two days is more than enough time for the news cycle to have made most people forget all about our little dust up. I'm tense anyway, and I can see from how they’re riding that the others are just as watchful of me.

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