Jessica Mitchell moved in her sleep, grunting and snuffling as she wormed herself in a little tighter, throwing an arm and leg possessively over her bedmate. Scott Murphy smiled in the dim light as he glanced at the clock, grimaced at the time, and then tightened his embrace around her willow-like shoulders. They had gone to bed almost three hours ago, and though Jessica had gone to sleep almost immediately, he hadn’t. His mind was still spinning, winding in ever-tighter circles as his thoughts raced, thinking over what had happened.

 

They had dashed out of the apartment Jess shared with her mother with little more than the clothes on their backs, so they were sleeping in the nude. Not a bad thing to his mind, but the circumstances left a little to be desired. You don’t have a lot of time to think about packing when the leader of the Grim Angels, Valdemar Ingersson, came calling. Not when he had blood in his eyes and not if you valued your life.

 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. In Detroit less than a week and he was already in deep shit with his club. He hadn’t wanted to leave his home in Atlanta, and he hadn’t wanted to come to Detroit as the right-hand man of the future leader of the club. Jason MacGinnis, President of the Atlanta chapter of the Grim Angels, had been tapped as the new President of the mother chapter in Detroit, and he wanted Scott with him. Scott had, reluctantly, agreed and followed Jason and Rick to Detroit. As the head of the Detroit chapter, Jason was going to be the nominal head of all one hundred twenty-eight chapters scattered across the country, something that had him practically salivating. The Grim Angels weren’t as big as the biggest clubs, but they were growing fast.

 

He had come to Detroit out of loyalty, but once there, his world had been turned upside down and inside out. On the day of his arrival he had met Jess at a party and been gob smacked into oblivion. He had always had his pick of women, women that most men would kill for, and though many were undeniably beautiful, they were mere playthings. Their vacant smiles and even more vacant eyes left him cold. But Jess, she was different.

 

Though she was beautiful, and stunningly so, there was so much more to her. He could see a keen intellect behind her gaze, her eyes lacking that dullness he found so off-putting. And though she was heart-stoppingly gorgeous, she had a certain modesty about her that made his blood roar. In short, she was everything he dreamed of in a woman, and more. Beautiful, smart, and sweetly modest was a trifecta of unprecedented rareness, but, beyond that, she had an inner strength that amazed him. She was truly extraordinary and he was determined to make her his.

 

What he didn’t know, not until it was too late and he had been smitten with her, was that she was the niece of Val Ingersson. The Val Ingersson. Val Ingersson, President of the mother chapter of the Grim Angels. The same Val Ingersson that had declared his niece off-limits to every member of the club.

 

Scott stared at the ceiling of the motel. Thank God for Rick, he thought. Had he not shown up and warned us the Grim Angels were riding for us, I would have been caught bare ass naked in her bed, maybe even balls deep inside of her. He didn’t understand the problem with Jess seeing a member of the club. Yes, that asshole Luke had fucked over the club and hurt Jess at the same time, but he would never do anything like that. He just needed time to prove it.

 

They had ridden away from her apartment only minutes ahead of the baying hounds on their tail. He had wanted to leave the Angels, ride back to Atlanta, pack his shit, and move on, but Jess had insisted they stay. Detroit was her home and she didn’t want to leave it until there was no other choice. She was certain that after her uncle had a chance to calm down she could reason with him. Besides, with charters scattered all across the United States, there was no place they could hide that the Grim Angels wouldn’t, eventually, find them. Better to stay and make their stand in Detroit and prove to her uncle, and the rest of the club, that they had done nothing wrong.

 

Scott wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but her logic made a certain amount of sense. Running only damns them as knowing they are guilty. So they had decided to stay close and give her a chance to convince her uncle to back off.

 

He smiled. When they had finally stopped, after two hours of being on the move, she had a couple of messages on her cell and he had listened in as she played them. Val didn’t seem to be in much of a mood for reasoning and her friend Angela had begged her to call. His own message, from Jason, he didn’t even bother listening to.

 

Jason’s nose was stuck so far up Val’s butt that if Val were to fart it would come out of Jason’s ass. He would never trust Jason again and he didn’t give a shit what he had to say. He hadn’t known Jess was off limits until Jason had told him, and Jason could have kept that information to himself and give him time to reason with Val. But, instead, Jason had sold him out, using him as leverage to pander to Val.

 

Jess moved, muttering in her sleep, and he looked at her until she became quiet again. His thoughts continued to darken as he thought about Jason and the treachery that wouldn’t be forgiven or forgotten. Let the little ginger try to sell out another brother for gain after he breaks his jaw. He would be eating soup through a straw for months after he got done with him, and if Jess got hurt during any of this, he would kill him.

 

“No!”

 

Jessica’s shout in the quiet room made him jump, tearing his thoughts away from vile retribution. She moved again, squirming, her breathing becoming shallow and fast as she moaned softly then muttered something unintelligible.

 

“Shhh…” he whispered. It had been barely eight hours since he learned her secret, but he knew instinctively she was dreaming of the night she found the woman Luke, her lover at the time, had killed and mauled. He had then tried to kill her and she had killed him with his own knife, stabbing him repeatedly as they fought to the death on the floor, probably in the pool of the woman’s blood.

 

She began to thrash, pushing against him and whimpering. He let her go, afraid that, in her dream, his embrace would become Luke’s grasping arms as they struggled. He didn’t know exactly how she had killed him, only that she had gotten the knife from him when he fell, but he wanted to take no chances.

 

“Jess…wake up. Wake up,” he murmured, trying to bring her around without scaring her. He gave her a gentle sake, then softly touched her face.

 

Jess issued a blood curdling scream and set bolt upright in bed, panting, with her eyes wide and staring. As soon as his heart started beating again, Scott sat up beside her but did not touch her. “Jess…you okay? Jessica?” he whispered, feeling completely helpless.

 

Slowly her face turned to his, her eyes still wide, her chest heaving in great gasps, but then she seemed to come out of it and her face scrunched as she fell into his arms.

 

He held her as she began to sob then slowly laid back in the bed, pulling her down with him as she clung to him. She made little noise as she cried, but he could feel her pain and terror as she shook and gasped. Finally she began to still, her sobs quieting, but he continued to hold her, saying nothing, giving her strength through simple touch.

 

“What can I do?” he asked, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the murmur of the air conditioner.

 

“Hold me,” she whispered, sniffing again as she adjusted her position so that she could be held closer, tighter. “Tighter,” she begged softly, needing to feel his strong arms, needing to know he was there to help her fight her dreams. He pulled her onto his chest before his arms cinched down, almost crushing the air from her lungs, but it was what she wanted, what she needed. Held tight, she felt a measure of safety and peace come over her. She wasn’t sure why his embrace comforted her, one hand on her head, the other around her back, but it did and that was all that mattered.

 

They lay together for some minutes, and though his embrace loosened slightly, he continued to hold her tight, wrapping her in the protective warmth of his embrace. She could feel his arms beginning to quiver with effort but his embrace relaxed no further and it touched her that he would give so much effort for her. She pushed up against him, his embrace suddenly loosening as she rose, slid up his body, and brought her lips to his.

 

His kiss was sweet, gentle, but the hunger from earlier was still there. She wanted him. She wanted him to fuck that terrible night out of her, to burn away the memories of blood and death with pleasure, and then replace them with something greater. The kiss began to deepen and she felt him stiffen against her leg. She glanced at the clock, the numerals blood red and bright in the darkness. No! Not blood, her mind rebelled, the color of roses, the color of love and passion.

 

There were still almost four hours until sunrise, but she couldn’t return to sleep. Not now. He had pulled her out of the dream before she saw the girl’s body, and she wanted to keep it that way. She had slept, deep and dreamless, after he had made love to her in her apartment, and she wanted to do so again. “Make love to me, Scott,” she whispered, touching his face softly. “Make love to me and never stop.”

 

Were it any other woman he would be fucking himself to nirvana without a second thought, but he hesitated at her request. He wanted her; he wanted her desperately, but she was vulnerable and he didn’t want to hurt her. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes. I need you to make me feel alive, Scott. I, I can’t do it alone. Please, Scott, help me live again.”