“Star!” My aunt pushed open the door that separated the small gas station’s store from the living room of the attached house her and her husband lived in. She waddled into the room, booming melodramatic music from a soap opera’s end of an episode cliffhanger did nothing to dull the shrillness in her voice.

It was bad enough hearing the muffled exploits of Doctor Clive’s back-from-the-dead twin brother throughout the day when I was trying to study without her harassing me for menial bullshit.

Maybe, if I stay really still, she won’t see me.

“Star! Dammit, girl!”

Guess not. Jurassic Park, you have failed me.

“I don’t know where your TV remote is.” I slammed my textbook shut which caused the cash register it was propped up against to clatter and ring. I looked up at my aunt over my glasses. “I haven’t been in there all day.”

“Uncle has been yelling for you to take out the trash.” Breathing heavily from the short trip from the couch, she eyed me expectantly.

“I just checked them, neither are even half full. We haven’t had anyone pull up in an hour.” I stood up to look out the room’s window. The one, lonely pump stood stoically waiting for cars that rarely ever came. Uncle rocked slowly in his chair beside it, reading a newspaper. Squinting past him, I could actually make out a tumbleweed rolling across the sun-dulled greens and dusty browns of the endless Oklahoma farmland in the distance.

I was from the east coast where cities existed. The longer I stayed here the more I could actually feel myself getting older.

“I don’t care how full they are! Uncle wants them changed, so get up off your lazy ass and change them.” She wrenched my chair away from me to better prop herself up. Was she really just looking to steal my seat?

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“He’s sitting within arm’s reach of them, look! Why can’t he do it? Aunt Gina, I really have to study for this test tomorrow. All these distractions are killing me,” I begged. “Please?”

“I’m only going to tell you once more, girl. Go.” She frowned, shaking her head which sent her jowls rippling.

“Fine, Master.” I exhaled hard, setting my jaw. I didn’t mind working the cash register because of how few customers we actually got, but all these stupid little errands and chores were extremely distracting.

One semester. It’s only one semester. I reminded myself so often that it was quickly becoming a mantra. Of all places, why did Oklahoma City University have to have the course I needed?

“Don’t you dare sass me!” she shouted after me. I walked out before she could begin her usual tirade of how they let me stay here for free and how they only ask me to pull my weight in return.

I thought back on how often my Aunt tried to guilt me. There was a joke in there somewhere about pulling one’s own weight, but I would never be bold enough to say it out loud.

I walked over to each can. They were placed at the far end of both sets of pumps. My uncle typically sat on a stool right in the middle. The only new item that had been added to either of these less than half full cans in the forty-five minutes since I’d checked it last was a coffee cup—his coffee cup.

“Uncle,” I asked. Why was I doing this again?

“Mmm.” He didn’t bother tearing himself away from what was probably a riveting article about the ins and outs of harvesting or whatever.

I hate Oklahoma.

“Seriously, there’s nothing in these,” I said, glancing back through the store window to where Aunt Gina was contentedly reading. The natural light was better at the register than by her couch.

Did she really kick me out from studying just so she could steal my seat and read? She had the entire house!

“That dirty, sonofabitch is running for mayor again?! Reynolds is an ex-con for Christ’s sake!” Uncle shouted, snapping me out of focused irritation.

“Uncle?” I needed to ask him what he wanted me to do now. I learned from experience that I’d get yelled at if he looked up and I wasn’t at the register.

“Goddammit. Gerry was right, after all. I can’t believe it. Can you believe this shit?”

Uncle had a way of abruptly blurting out while he read the news. It had caught me off guard more than I’d like to admit.

I sighed heavily. He wasn’t listening. Maybe if I found a stick to poke him with...

I should be studying right now!

“What are you sighing about?” he barked, finally noticing me. “You’re ruinin’ the damn paper!”

What? How’s that even possible? “The trash—”

“What about it?” He immediately cut me off now that he’d finally turned his attention to me. “Did you empty it?” He stood up and craned his neck to look in both cans without actually moving toward either. “Don’t bother, they’re not even half full.”

My expression darkened at the futility of these people. All I wanted to do was study for my damn test.

He looked at me with defensive confusion, having no idea for the life of him why I might be irritated. “Take them tires around back and throw them on the pile.” Uncle pointed to the two tires that leaned up against the entrance of the store. He wasn’t the inquisitive type and decided he’d rather send me away than figure out what was wrong.

Staying here, I’d learned that some things weren’t worth fighting for. The faster they ran out of stupid time-wasting busy work for me to do the faster I could get back to what really mattered. So off I went.

The ratty pickup truck, modified to have an extra loud exhaust, raced into the parking lot unnecessarily fast. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Todd and he was on his way to see me.

Ugh. Todd was the biggest mistake I’d made since coming here, one I just couldn’t get rid of. I hustled as fast as I could, but the damn tires were so unwieldy that Todd saw me before I could reach the corner and pretend to not be here.

Uncle had gone back to his newspaper but spared Todd a distracted hand wave. Of course, those two had gotten along famously since Todd started coming by.

“Hey, Sweet Ass, you miss me?” Todd rolled up next to me in his truck. He hung out the driver’s side window smiling smugly as his piece-of-shit truck backfired.

“Yeah, but I’m working on my aim.” I glowered at him. How many times did I have to turn this guy down before he got it through his Cro-Magnon skull?

“You got a smart mouth, city girl. I like that.” Todd Habberon aggressively coached the boys’ football team at the high school he barely graduated from. Clean shaven with short cropped blond hair. Todd wasn’t anything special to look at, but he wasn’t hideous either. “Lemme do that for you. You don’t wanna get dirty.”

“Nope, I got this.” I laboriously dragged both tires around the side of the building, having to shift positions a few times. “And that’s funny because I don’t really give a shit what you like, Todd.”

“Ain’t up for debate, Babe.” He threw his truck in park then hopped out and grabbed them from me. “Let a real man take care of that for ya.”

“Let me know when you find one.” I adjusted my glasses from the physical exertion and crossed my arms. His alpha male persona was just about the most tone-deaf bravado I’d ever seen. Why did he think anyone liked to be patronized like that? “I’d love an actual conversation for a change.”

He was in decent enough shape and threw the tires on the unsightly pile behind the building much faster than I would’ve, but he was far from the manly man persona he was trying to portray. He was the type of guy who told people at the bar how he was an Army Ranger but just came off as full of shit.

“You didn’t care about conversation at Rosco bar and grill a few weeks ago.” He brushed some of the grime off on his pants and reached out to grab my shoulders with tire greased hands. “You were all about Todd’s big D.”

“The most lackluster two-and-a-half minutes of my life.” I pulled away before his grubby hands could touch me. “There’s not enough alcohol in the world for me to make that mistake again.” That hook up was such a mistake. I was drunk and lonely with homesickness. He was kind enough and wasn’t terrible to look at. I’ve been blowing him off ever since, but he just couldn’t take the hint.

“You say whatever you want, but I know you loved riding the big buck.” Todd humped the air with a disgusting smile he probably thought was endearing. “Hey, I got us tickets to this concert up in Norman this Saturday. Vertical Horizon. They’re a little faggy for me but I figured you’d be into them.”

“I’m not interested Todd. Leave me alone.” This shit had to stop.

“C’mon, Babe.” He used what he probably thought was his sweet voice.

I hate it when people call me pet names. Babe is my new least favorite. Sweet Ass wasn’t great either, but at least it wasn’t as generic.

“The fuck am I gonna do with these tickets? It was like, fifty bucks!”

“I don’t know. Sell them on eBay or something. I don’t care. I have to get back to work.” I brushed past him and the fucker had the gall to grab my ass. “Hey!”

He threw his hands up and smiled like he was just joking around, and I shouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

There was a rumbling sound off in the distance, like rolling thunder, but I was too heated to take my eyes off Todd. How many more ways could I possibly tell him NO?

“How bout a little kiss?” he asked. “I drove all the way up there to get them for you. A kiss is the least you can do. We’ve gone way farther than that before.”

“You’re not cute. Fuck off!” I wiped that shitty smile off his face. I could tell he wasn’t used to that coming from a little girl.

“Don’t be such a bitch!” Todd’s tone shifted. He’d lost the mock goofy, trying-to-hard-to-be-sexy bravado and settled into a stern, antagonized look.

Holy shit, did I finally break through to him?

“It’s not my fucking fault that you bought tickets and just assumed I’d go with you. Next time ask first, you fucking asshole.”

I heard a motorcycle pull into the station, then another. Soon they started flooding in. Thank God! I had an excuse to get away from Todd.

“Nobody turns their back on me, Star! Get back here.” He growled behind me.

I flipped him the bird.

I paused when I rounded the corner of the building and saw more bikers than I’d expected. Around twenty burly men flooded into our tiny station. Funny, they were certainly intimidating with their beards, tattoos, and muscles, but my first thought was that of logistics. Aunty and Uncle’s gas station was small comparatively, and out of the way. We could only fill up two of them at a time.

They were going to be here for a half hour at least.

We’ve had bikers here before, but never this many!

We had a few tough-looking ones here and there, but it was mostly a handful of middle-aged guys riding those ridiculous luxury model bikes that looked like they had more steel surrounding them than an actual car. I remembered this one guy who pulled up on a bike had three wheels. It looked ridiculous, like the adult version of a tricycle.

About a week ago, I saw about fifty guys on bikes. They must’ve been on an organized ride or on their way to some event because they didn’t stop in. Just seeing this many bikers ride by was intimidating and now to have them actually slow to a stop and fill the parking lot…

My heart started racing.

I assumed these men were all part of the same group because they all wore black vests with more or less the same patches on them. I couldn’t make out the words on the top patch but the symbol in the middle looked like two downward crossed fists with black wings behind them. The insignia looked familiar somehow, but I didn’t know much about organized bikers.

I startled, feeling Todd’s hand wrap around my arm and pull me back behind the store. I turned to him with a clenched fist, not exactly sure what to expect from him now since I made my feelings about him crystal clear.

“Oh, man. This ain’t good!” Fear had drained the man of all his color.

I immediately knew I had nothing to worry about. Well, nothing to worry about from him at least.

He peeked around the corner at the bikers. The concern plastered across his face was disconcerting.

“What’s wrong, tin soldier?” He was supposed to be this tough Army guy and here he was pissing himself. I couldn’t help but rib him a little.

The look he shot me was all daggers.

I loved it! “You afraid of real men?” I pushed harder and to my surprise, he actually went to slap me, but stopped himself.

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

Wow, I honestly didn’t think he had it in him. He was a mess and a shitty person, but I never pegged him as a man who hit women. He began to say something else, but couldn’t find the words, then stormed off to his truck.

When Todd came back, he had a gun in his hand.

“Woah, what the fuck, Todd?” This is going way too far! I started backing away. What was he going to do with that?

“Do you have any idea who the fuck that is?” He hissed at me, keeping his voice down. He was obviously still terrified. “It’s the Steel Veins MC. I think it’s a robbery.”

“The Steel what? Are you talking about the bikers?” I scoffed. My aunt and uncle weren’t exactly the Rockefellers. What could they possibly take from them? Their invaluable stack of old tires? “Who would want to rob this place?”

“Your uncle probably owes them money,” Todd mumbled.

“What? That’s crazy!” Although, now that he said that, I remembered seeing a pair of bikers with that same symbol come by and talk to him the end of last month. Uncle wasn’t too pleased with the conversation, not that he’d felt the need to fill me in on the details.

“Yeah, they’re roughing him up,” Todd said, shaking his head slightly. His brows furrowed and his eyes became more focused, even Todd’s breathing patterns changed. It seemed like he was building his courage for something.

“Roughing him up…” My words drifted off as real worry started setting in. Like hitting him?

That couldn’t be right.

I couldn’t hear anything besides a small army of engines idling. I needed to see what was happening with my own eyes, so I pulled Todd to the side and leaned around the corner.

It was horrible!

Beneath the wall of leather and boots, I saw Uncle curled up, bloody and screaming.

Aunt Gina had come waddling out to them faster than I’d ever seen her move. It was like watching a water balloon rolling over uneven gravel. She pleaded for them to stop and was backhanded off her feet for the effort. Seeing her hit the ground so hard made me worried she might pop.

The bald man who’d hit her was a giant and he looked like he was in charge. He had a full head of hair hanging from his chin to his belly button, and he was angry. If a mean, biker version of Santa existed then I was looking at him.

My aunt and uncle were petty and annoying, but they didn’t deserve this! Especially not uncle. He was an idiot, but after he had a few cups of coffee, he wasn’t that bad.

I’d heard about things like this happening on the news and seen it on TV shows, but never in person. To watch it actually happen to someone you know...my weakness forced me to look away.

And that’s when I saw him.

In the back of the pack, casually resting on his bike and smoking a cigarette, was a man who embodied disinterest and disdain. He had the look of a man who was only there because he had to be. He looked so out of place that it felt like someone changed the channel on me. One minute it was a documentary on “The Horrors of Gang Warfare” the next it was “High Plains Drifter.”

He had shaggy, mid length, rusty brown hair, and the dark eyes of Jason Momoa. He also wore a light beard that was less hipster and more criminal. He wore the apparently obligatory black vest with patches, but over a dusty, grey, button-up collared shirt that was open enough to reveal a light shock of chest hair on road-weathered skin. His thick, faded jeans covered the top of battered, metal-armored, black leather boots.

My heart raced a little faster as I watched him. Jason was thin but muscular, and even from this distance, I could tell he was darkly handsome.

I had to look away again, completely this time. How could I find anyone attractive at a time like this! It was terrible. I was such a shitty person. I had to close my eyes. I just wanted to not exist. With all the sounds, I couldn’t keep them closed for long and when they did open... I almost had a heart attack, fell over and died right there.

Jason was looking right at me.

I froze. My breath turned to sand in my lungs. I couldn’t get my body to do anything but stare at him. I was a living statue.

He regarded me curiously and smiled more to himself than to me, I think.

I didn’t know how much time passed while we just looked at one another, but without breaking eye contact or alerting anyone else, he pressed one finger to his lips. Quiet.

I swallowed, nodding. Had I been able to remove my mouth and throw it away I would have.

There was a click behind me. Todd had loaded his pistol and leaned around the corner before I could stop him. He’d finally built up enough courage to act. What that action was, would be anyone’s guess.

Jason immediately saw Todd and his expression darkened into a disappointed frown. He slapped the biker’s shoulder next to him, held up three fingers and pointed to us. Without a word exchanged, three men took off running.

“Fuck! Hide!” Todd blurted in a mad panic at being confronted. His cowardice immediately broke through whatever resolve he’d mustered, because he shoved me behind a flimsy stack of pallets in his dash to get to his truck.

I grabbed one of the tires and blocked off the gap between the back wall of the building and the pallet stack, then slid down behind it,

Oh, God, would this be enough?

I needed to call the cops, but my cell phone was inside. Who am I kidding? I didn’t have reception here; most of the time it was turned off in my room.

I hate Oklahoma.

I was pretty sure Todd was just going to bail on me, the spineless fuck. But he didn’t have the chance. The first three shots were blocked by the pallets, so I couldn’t actually see them, but fuck, they were loud!

I cupped a hand over my mouth to muffle a scream that refused to stop. Was Todd really shooting at them? Was he insane? There were twenty guys out there!

“Yeah! Take that, you faggot biker fucks! I got enough for all of ya’ll,” Todd taunted desperately trying to keep the shakiness from his voice. When he backed up, I could see Todd clearly through the cracks in my pallet wall. With upturned eyebrows and sweat streaming down his face in rivulets, it was easy to see his confidence wavered on a knife’s edge. The second his bravado was tested, he would crumble.

And where did that leave me?

“I’m a goddamn war-hero, bitch.” Todd postured and spouted off at the mouth like he was in a rap video. “You think I’m afraid of y—”

First, it was the sound of rapid, heavy footsteps crunching on gravel, then the whistle and finally the right cross that killed Todd’s blaze of glory. Todd was dropped like a sack of rice, his gun clattering across the ground.

Jason stood right on the other side of my palate wall. I saw him as clear as the creeping sunset that nearly silhouetted him. His sleeves were rolled up to show off his corded, steel forearms, and scarred rough hands.

Jason thumbed the hammer of a large revolver from the resting to the firing position, then back again as he looked down at the pathetic, sniveling creature. His mouth hung partially agape, his own face twisted in grief and disbelief at what just happened. Eyes welling with tears, he drew in a ragged breath and hung his head.

Jesus, what the hell just happened? I couldn’t see who Todd was shooting at from my little hidey-hole.

“Oh fuck, Remy…” another biker choked out the words. “I think Bren’s dead.”

Remy? That was Jason’s actual name?

“I—I didn’t mean to—” Todd stammered, openly crying. Todd raised his hands defensively, horror splayed across his features as he realized just how bad he’d fucked up.

“Yeah,” was the only word out of Remy’s mouth as he raised his head and snapped a hateful glare at Todd. The sadness was deeply set into the wrinkles on Remy’s face, but it paled in comparison to the rage that flared out of his eyes.

Remy raised his gun hand without a breath of hesitation and turned Todd’s head into so much wet confetti.

Clasping my hand back over my mouth, I fought down the swell of acidic vomit that cascaded up to my throat.

I had just watched a man I knew die.

It was the single most horrible thing I’d ever seen in my entire life, but I still couldn’t tear my gaze away from the handsome monster who’d killed Todd.

“Crutch?” Remy asked, his body sagging as he ran a hand over his face. His thick brown eyebrows slightly shifted upwards, and the lines in his frown deepened. Remy’s breath came in ragged, measured breaths as if he pushed down a growing mournfulness.

“I’m okay,” Crutch’s words were strained. The man sounded like he was in rough shape.

“It’s always fucking Crutch. Heh,” another biker gruffly added. “What’d your mom feed you when you was a kid, magnets?”

“Watch your fucking mouth. Have some fucking respect.” I heard someone punch someone else in reply.

My gaze was still numbly transfixed on Remy.

“Fuck, Tee! That hurt. Nah shit... I’m sorry, Remy. Bren... Bren was a real good—”

Who is Bren?

Remy peered off in the distance. His head was so far away that I doubt he heard the other bikers at all. He wiped his eyes and nose with his arm, swallowed then finally turned back to the other men. “Tee, help Crutch back to his bike and see if Twatch can patch him up enough to ride.” Remy’s voice cracked at first, but he coughed, took a breath, then pushed through, “Dollar, you string that piece of shit to the back of my bike. I want to litter the road with his fucking corpse.”

The edge that crept into his voice made me shiver all over.

“What about Bren?” Tee asked.

“I’ll bring him to Top. He’ll want to be the one to take him to Muse’s place. Hoze, Black Nicky, tear this fucking place apart. I don’t want any more surprises tonight.”

“You got it Rem,” Black Nicky replied.

Remy’s eyes flashed past me as he turned, then for a brief moment flicked back. He saw right through my hiding place, saw right through me.

I was in shock, stinging tears streamed down my face. Again, I couldn’t breathe. My bottom lip bled from how tight I bit it.

“Back’s clear. Start around the side.” Remy lifted his gaze and walked forward like I didn’t exist. When he disappeared behind me, presumably to pick up Bren’s body, I was able to finally take in air. He definitely saw me…

Why didn’t he say anything?

“Well, well, well, what do we got here? Good thing I doubled back.” My flimsy pallet shelter toppled as the man Remy called Hose put a shoulder into it. His greasy hands grasped me.

I screamed, thrashing in the struggle until my head bounced off the back of the building. Stars burned across my blurry vision as I was dragged out through the splintered, wooden debris of my makeshift shelter. It was a miracle that my glasses stayed on.

“You see my boy here, kill your boyfriend?” Hose glared down at me. It was more of an accusation than a question.

I tried to say “No” but nothing came out.

“Speak up, bitch. I ain’t got all night.” He pulled out his gun and leaned in so close that the chewing tobacco he had in his lower lip spattered my face when he talked.

“Fuck you.” I was as surprised as him when those words quietly escaped my mouth.

Where did that come from?

Despite knowing how this was probably going to go, I honestly didn’t think I had that kind of defiance in me. I always shied away from conflict and here I was cussing out a biker? Was this what I was really like when at the end of my rope?

“This cunt’s got a mouth on her. Oh, how I wish I had the time...” Hose dragged me to my knees and pushed my face hard into the crotch of his pants.

I felt the heat through the denim as he dragged my face back and forth. Then I felt the barrel of the gun pressed against the side of my head.

“Let her up,” Remy’s voice boomed.

“You’re fuckin’ with me, right? She saw you, man!” Hose argued, but Remy only narrowed his eyes. He sighed in resignation. “Aright-aright-aright.”

“You wanna die on your knees?” Remy turned his attention to me. “Stand up.”

No. I stood up—I didn’t want to die at all!

God, I hoped that wasn’t still an option.

Bren’s body was propped over Remy’s shoulder with careful ease bordering on reverence. Although he wasn’t bulky for his height, he was solid and surprisingly strong. Remy seemed to radiate a primal denseness like the gravity around him was somehow heavier.

There was some renewed shouting out front, followed by two gunshots.

“Shit, Rem, looks like Top got the news.” Black Nicky propped his hands on his hips and shook his head.

Remy looked past the other biker to the men by the pump, then back out into the distance. The muted sadness on his face deepened into a contemplative haze. He squinted directly into the last few rays of the dying sun as if he could burn the lingering memories of what had happened from his mind.

“Did they kill my Aunt and Uncle?” The dry, cracked words fled from my quivering lips. I could barely see through my tired, red eyes. How long had I been quietly sobbing?

None of the other bikers would look me in the eyes, except Remy. He held my gaze but said nothing.

I slapped him.

I couldn’t believe I’d just done that, but I was proud of myself for not recoiling in fear. I was too scared shit-less to be some kind of badass. Where was all this defiance coming from?

“Tonight wasn’t supposed to go down like this. We both got dealt a shit hand.” Remy let out a long, low exhale, flicking his mournful gaze back at me.

“Monster,” I spat the word through renewed tears. Todd, Aunty and Uncle… I might not have liked them, but they didn’t deserve to die. I stared hard into Remy’s stoic, dark eyes and found myself trying to slap him again.

This time, he’d easily caught my hand. “You got two choices. Make a break for it right now and get shot in the back, or walk back to Top and the rest of the guys with me. I don’t know which is the mercy.”

“Which would you chose?” I asked.

“I’d have run.” Remy’s lips pushed into a thin white line as he brushed past me. “Bring her.”

Hose grabbed me and dragged me behind him. When we passed the side window, I could see the fire spreading quickly through the small store. The heat forced my already irritated eyes into slivers. I saw my textbooks on the counter next to the ransacked cash registers.

They burned.

Leaning or sitting on their bikes, the Steel Veins waited for us. Twenty sets of hungry eyes looked at me like I was a choice cut of steak. They either wanted to cut me up for what happened to their friend or eat me.

I’m sure many wanted both.

It was dark enough that the front parking lot and gas pumps were awash in the brilliant, yellow-orange light from the fire. It gave everything a hellish hue. Had I already died?

Was one of them the Devil?

The Devil would ride a Harley, wouldn’t he?

I didn’t actually know if they were all Harleys. I realized that aside from the few bikes that came in for a fill-up, I’d never even touched a motorcycle. For the most part, all their bikes looked the same- big headlights, teardrop gas tanks, fat tires and almost fully exposed engines. The exception was the bike I saw Remy’s on earlier. That one looked Japanese, maybe?

My distraction was cut short when I saw both the bodies. I felt horrible, but oddly, this time I didn’t cry. The whole thing felt real in a way and completely fake at the same time. I mean, I knew it was real. This was way too dark for one of those prank-based reality shows, but I never got to know my aunt and uncle.

Looking at them lying on the ground I found myself feeling bad about feeling bad. It was almost like I didn’t have the right to grieve over these people.

I’d been up here a few months for school, but before that, I’d only seen them at weddings and once for a funeral. In my twenty-one years on this planet, I might have seen my aunt and uncle five times at most.

Originally, I was going to stay local and go to the college I’d started, but after my scandal with Professor Baker, my parents were far too eager to send me away. I really couldn’t blame them. Jonathan’s wife was very vocal and made our lives hell.

The college out here wasn’t my first choice, but the legal fees from my indiscretion were stacking up and for everyone’s sake, I needed to get away. So, to save money, my dad asked his sister if I could take their spare room. My aunt agreed, and here I was.

Now they were dead, I didn’t fully know how to feel about it.

Everyone wearing a bandanna removed it as Remy gently placed Bren across the gas tank on the lead motorcycle.

Top, the bearded behemoth who’d slapped my aunt earlier, was openly weeping. He grabbed Remy in a giant bear hug. Remy wasn’t a small man, probably five foot ten, maybe a hundred and seventy or eighty pounds, but in Top’s embrace, he looked like a little boy.

Remy patted him a few times on the back then began to tie Bren’s arms and legs up and secure him to the bike.

For a cold-blooded murderer, he looked so solemn. Bren must’ve meant something to him as well, because he couldn’t be that deathly serious all the time, could he?

“Why’s this dead bitch standing in front of me?”

When Top spoke in that tone, everyone stopped and listened, but no one answered. I bet most of them, including myself, were wondering the same question.

Why hadn’t they killed me already?

“We’re taking her with us.” Remy pulled the final strap tight and checked to make sure Bren was fully secured before turning back to address Top.

“And why are we doing that?” Top asked, eyes narrowing at me.

“She didn’t kill Bren, that shit-heel did.” Remy cocked a thumb over to the corpse Dollar was still in the process of tying off to the back of Remy’s bike.

“I don’t give a rat’s dick if she did or didn’t.” Top was fuming. He was practically itching to violently vent his frustration. “Did she see you kill that shitheel?”

“What difference does it make if we kill her here or at Muse’s?” Remy shrugged it off.

“Rem, I’m all for you gettin’ your dick wet, but there’s plenty of pussy at Muse’s place. Hell, I’ll have her drag all the girls out. I’m sure tonight we’re all gonna need them anyhow.”

“No.” Remy walked right up to the giant. “She stays.”

“Like hell she does.” Top roughly grabbed my hair and easily dropped me to my knees.

I screamed and thrashed until I felt the cold edge of a knife against my throat. For such a large man, he was horribly fast. My eyes went wide in panic, but I stayed as quiet as the grave. All the while, staring, pleading with Remy. But why did I think he would help me? He was the only one I’d actually seen commit murder.

“Top, wait,” Remy snapped. “I need some strange tonight. I’m tired of those worn out whores.”

Top reluctantly pulled the knife away and pushed me onto the ground.

I landed in a fetal position and with shaking hands touched my neck. My fingers came away bloody, but not bloody enough to be life-threatening. You almost died, said the booming voice in my head and even that was almost drowned out by my pulse which sounded like machinegun fire in my ears.

“Fine. But I get first crack at her.” Top wrenched me out of my stupor and back to my feet.

His concrete slab of a hand slapped my ass so hard that I lifted off the ground and after the searing pain, it immediately went numb.

“When you’re done, the boys get to turn her out too.”

“Whatever.” Remy shook his head in indifference. There was a bit of reluctance in his voice, but the roles were crystal clear. Although Remy had the balls to stand up to him, Top was the man in charge.

“Alright, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Top bellowed, as I imagined a Norse god might as he led his men into battle, then mounted up.

The rest of the bikers followed suit.

A wave of apathy rolled over me. I should’ve listened to him. I should’ve ran. Getting shot in the back had to be better than… The thought of what waited for me wherever we were going was unfathomable. These things don’t happen to quiet, boring girls like me. This killer bought me another night but at what cost?

By sunrise, I’d wish I were dead.

“Get on the bike,” Remy said.

I hesitated, weighing what little I had for options.

“Are you going to run?” Remy eyed me carefully. His deep brown eyes glinted with curiosity, but behind that was something else…remorse, maybe?

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t find any words worth saying. The remorse was for his friend who died, not for me. Maybe I should just run. That had to be better than being raped.

Remy gently placed my glasses in my hand and pushed me toward the bike.

I hadn’t even noticed I’d lost them.

Shame, that was it. It was written all over his face. Remy didn’t like what was happening to me.

But could I trust him?

No, of course not. Hope was ridiculous, but I couldn’t willingly decide to kill myself either. I sighed at my own weakness and got on his bike.

Once I was on, he checked to make sure the lead line attached to what was left of Todd was secured then he hopped on himself.

There was a small, beaten up book sticking out of his back pocket. The title wasn’t showing but the author’s name was Lovecraft. I’d never heard of him or her. The font and cover art had the look of classic literature. It struck me how odd that was for a biker to carry around.

A biker who was so clearly different from all these other men.

Who was this man?

We rode through the night along empty back roads for hours, never seeing another set of oncoming headlights. The maddening, slapping and skidding of Todd’s corpse along the pavement mercifully ended a while back when the bloody arm anchoring him to the bike chord ripped free at the shoulder. At several points, the gruesome sound and the way bike pulled to either side of the road from the weight made me gag. The sound of the remaining limb bouncing as it was attached to the rope was completely drowned out by the bike’s engine and the wind. When most of the body was gone, the performance of Remy’s bike improved tenfold, and the whole thing became at least possible to ignore.

Not that I could of course.

It was all too hideous and fresh. Something out of a horror film. My mom was an ER nurse at a small hospital back home, and I would visit her a lot when I was younger. Seeing bloody wrecks wheeled in from EMTs was all too common, so I’d always been able to deal with gore better than most people. But this was a whole new level.

When Remy briefly stopped to cut the mangled tether line, freeing the last of Todd, I finally threw up. Honestly, I was surprised I didn’t pass out.

Dragging Todd seemed like such an obscene overreaction at first, but then some pieces started to fall into place. The way the other bikers apologized to Remy, Top crying, and their morning embrace. It went beyond even close-knit camaraderie. I think that Bren was related to Remy and Top in some way.

My old life melted farther away by the second. I didn’t trust Remy or even like him. He’d stood idly by while my aunt and uncle had been brutally murdered. He was a monster that could kill without a second thought.

Once we’d gotten back on the road Remy pushed his bike that much faster. His bike, unlike the other American motorcycles, had a surreal sense of speed. We were so far behind though, that the rest of the gang’s taillights were almost a memory.

Remy leaned forward and twisted the throttle. The night’s wind, still warm this far into the summer, rushed over us like an ocean wave. The dark landscape became a blur. Remy, the bike, me, we were one body-connected. I was terrified that we’d lift off the pavement and fly away.

My God, the power...

I was forced to hold on that much tighter, not only to stay on his bike but—and I hated myself for it—some part of me was squeezing him just to squeeze him. To feel him all around me. My legs, my arms, we could hate one another, but on the somber ride to what would probably be my own hellish end, we were closer than lovers.

The road became hypnotic. His tires gripping the asphalt along with the pounding engine, sent vibrations reverberating through my inner thighs. It rattled my ribs, lungs, and chest. I had trouble thinking straight. That rhythmic drumming, raw and unyielding, escaped my lips with every exhaled breath.

We roared up through the sea of red taillights and fell into a loose formation with the other riders.

It dawned on me that this was the first time I’d ever been on a motorcycle, and as much as I tried to deny it, I felt a sense of complete freedom and—something else. I thought it was danger or dread, but it wasn’t. There was a foreign ache running through my muscles. It was a wicked kind of excitement from a darker part of my personality I didn’t know I had. The road chill had finally started to set in, but the warmth of the man in front of me cut the bitterness in the air.

Something about Remy’s scent was intoxicating. The leather, gasoline, and dust, made me want to bury my face deeper into his broad, muscular shoulders. Although I didn’t have the words to describe how I knew, he smelled like I thought he should. Fresh sweat from exertion mixed with oil from the bike, the copper notes of old blood and spent anger. So much anger.

Remy was danger personified.

I got lost in the enveloping sensation of being wrapped around him. His radiating heat mixed with the steady, pulsating vibration from the bike, the abrupt roughness of the road and our subsequent jerks and thrusts. The bike’s rumbling felt trapped within me.

I squeezed Remy so tight I feared he’d think I was trying to throw him off the bike.

Swells of barely contained pleasure crashed against me like a coming tide. My muscles contracted against it. I refused it, willed it away, but the ecstasy of all these new sensations was relentless. My breathing spiked as I noticed I was actually getting wet!

I wasn’t paying attention to the fact that we were weaving in and out of bikes at well over a hundred miles-per-hour. All I could think about was how it felt being so close to him.

One of Remy’s abrupt shifts loosened my grasp on him creating just enough space for the wind to hit my chest like a sledgehammer. My fingers slid off his hard chest, across his ribs, then slipped from him completely. My heart in my teeth, I could feel my thighs immediately give way. I screamed, but couldn’t hear my voice over the engine, the road, and the wind.

Holy shit, I was falling!

Remy’s deceptively strong hand whipped out behind me at the last possible second and slammed me into his back. I grabbed him as tightly as possible, the denim skirt I was wearing crumpled into basically a thick belt as my inner thighs grinded down the back of his rough jeans. My pussy quivered as I slid over every coarse fabric ridge, before slapping back onto the oiled leather seat.

He didn’t even slow down.

Remy leaned forward, again pushing the bike even faster. The engine screamed as we blew past the rest of the bikers in the wrong lane of the highway. I screamed uselessly again as we were bathed in the deathly yellow floodlights of an oncoming tractor-trailer truck. My world went white. There was nothing except the light and a long thunderous howl from the gigantic truck’s horn.

At these vicious speeds, there would be no stopping the semi or us. We’d be turned into a paste.

Remy leaned forward until his chest pressed against the gas tank with me flush on his back, then accelerated even more. He dared the mechanical monster to blink, to jack-knife or hell—just to hit us. I don’t know. I mashed my eyelids shut, and simply let whatever was going to happen…happen.

At what felt like an eternity later, Remy sailed us out of the path of the screeching truck. Tire rubber burned all around us from the truck trying hopelessly to stop. The hot slipstream of air behind it as we passed, pushed into us like an explosion, threatening to topple us.

It was a testament to his skill and tenacity that Remy was able to keep us on two wheels at all. He slotted us up front in the formation, right next to Top. They shared a look, Top shook his head in amused disbelief, and everyone kept on riding like it was nothing.

I was a screaming, crying mess whose heart was on the verge of bursting for so many reasons.

Right then, I knew that regardless of what happened, I was never going to survive Remy.