Page 12 of Straight to Me

Of course, I am. “I shouldn’t have come here,” I say. I drop my head and start walking.

“Wait, I’ll take you home—”

“—no,” I cut him off turning to look at him. “I’ll call my friend, you… carry on. I’ll see you round.” A solid line creases his forehead.

Out of nowhere, we hear the distant wails of police cars approaching. “Shit!”

He grabs me, cursing and drags me in the direction of the trees. My feet scramble to keep up with him as the sirens close in. The crowd that had been having a good time start to shout to one another in a panic. “What’s going on?” I ask, concerned something bad is going to happen.

VP stops with an abrupt turn towards me once we’re in the shelter of the trees and smashes his lips against mine. My breath escapes me. His lips are moving quick, but they feel soft. His hands cup both sides of my face before working their way into my hair.

I place my palms against his chest in a move to push him away, but a moan leaves me as I give in to his searching tongue, opening my mouth to him.

I’m not sure what’s happening. All I know is that I want him. I stand on tip toes, pushing my breasts into him, my nipples are hard and scrape against his rough leather through my top.

I’m immediately more turned on when he hardens against me. My hands wildly search for his hair and I’m taken by the rush, frantically pulling and running my fingers over the back of his neck, his shoulders, his head. He cups my bum kneading and squeezing me against him. Like he needs this as much as I do.

“Dean,”I half breathe, half moan against his lips. In a flash, he pulls me down to the earth with him, making me sit on my haunches.

We watch police cars and vans swarm the entire area. Officers armed with guns tactically jump from their vehicles to secure the park, shouting instructions to the men, women and children still there. I don’t realise I’m squeezing VP’s hand so forcefully until he returns it, silently letting me know I’ll be alright.

As we stand again an officer shouts, “OVER THERE! IN THE TREES!” The sound of guns simultaneously being pointed to our position is terrifying.

VP quickly looks to me. “Quick, kiss me. Don’t think, just do it.”

I don’t hesitate.

On tip toes again, I place my lips on his, moving my arms to the top of his shoulders. His hands hold my hips in place as my body trembles, more from fear this time. We don’t say a word as our eyes lock onto one another. I’m begging for reassurance with this look and he’s giving it to me. He’s so calm, not even breaking a sweat.

The armed tactical unit surround us, shouting and ordering us to get down on the ground, hands where they can see them. I do as I’m told instantly. VP doesn’t move. He stays standing. I can’t even look up at him, but I hear the sound of footsteps stomp toward us. I’m facing the ground when in my peripherals I see him finally following instructions.

Still keeping my gaze down, I’m too scared to even move my eyes. All of a sudden, I’m patted down before being swept to my feet. “Get your hands off her, prick!” VP orders the officer holding a gun at me.

His confidence—or recklessness—to talk to a firearms officer like that, considering the situation we’re faced with, renders me stunned. I’m told to place my hands behind my back.

Looking back over my shoulder, his green eyes are locked on me. His face is hard lined and staring intensely, like he would kill to make sure I’m okay.

The officer behind me takes my arms in a firm grip and places handcuffs around my wrists. The tears I’ve struggled to hold back escape my eyes. The handcuffs are cold where they pinch the delicate skin over my wrist bone. I move them slightly to get more comfortable, but it only makes the pain I now feel worse.

“Targets secured,” the officer standing over a now handcuffed VP says, hauling him to his feet. Another keeps a red target expertly fixed on VP’s chest as they move him out from the cover of the trees to the car park. I’m pulled to the back of a police van and thrown in, tears now streaming freely down my face.

I don’t know where VP is, or how the crowd of women and children are holding up during this whole raid. I’m left on my own in the van, pondering how the hell I got myself into this predicament.

It’s because ofhim,that I’m now sat in the back of this police van. He used me. It’s because ofhim,that I’m angry and sad. I can’t believe I’ve allowed myself to be used by anoutlaw. This shit is unreal. What’ll Bex say when she finds out? She’s going to tear me a new one when I get home. If I get home.

I’m about to get my first taste of prison.

The thought sends a new wave of tears down to my chin. My head hangs low as I inhale and exhale deeply to gather my running thoughts. Then it hits me. We kissed, passionately and it’s because ofhim,the outlaw,Dean, who in twelve hours made me feel more alive than I have in months.

Chapter Six

VP

She knows my real name. I shouldn’t have kissed her like that. It wasn’t the right time or place. She must feel used and scared sat in the back of the other van. She’ll be let go soon, but I bet she’s never been in a police van in her life.

For the first time since leaving Australia I actually give a shit that I might have hurt someone. The last twelve hours have been a whirlwind, sure, but the club’s business has been easy by comparison. Meeting Mads was the unexpected whirlwind.

'Forgotten Tribe’, although vast in numbers, isn’t an outlaw club like the Rippers. Once upon a time they were ruthless. Now they’re small time, meeting twice a week to promote our rights as riders. Most of these men couldn’t say boo to a goose. But they’re under our influence now and those not cut out for it, will leave.

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