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Untouchable: An Unacceptables MC Standalone Romance by Kristen Hope Mazzola (3)

Chapter 2

Sloan

A Couple Weeks Later

The three flights of stairs up to my apartment always felt never-ending after a long night shift at the hospital. I loved being an emergency room nurse, but the long hours of being on my feet all night, running around like a chicken with my head cut off were starting to really wear on me.

Finally, I trudged up the final couple of steps, huffing and puffing. I bent down to retrieve a small box that sat on the welcome mat next to my front door before going inside. Victorious was an understatement for how excited I was about making it all the way up to my place. I threw my bag and the box down on the coffee table.

I stripped down right there in my living room, threw my white sneakers to the side, and left my teal scrubs wadded up in the middle of the floor. I lived alone—who the fuck was going to care?

Being naked in my place was so freeing for some reason. It wasn’t like I was a nudist or anything—I still had on my thong and bra—I just didn’t want to be restricted by work clothes one more minute than necessary. It was nine in the morning and I was walking around my apartment exposed, fixing to fill up a giant glass of wine, and sink into a tub filled with lilac bubbles.

With a full-to-the-brim glass of pinot grigio, I sank down onto the couch to open the box. I dug my keys out of my purse and sliced open the tape. The smell was what hit me first, then I saw the blood that was everywhere. In the small white box was a poorly wrapped head of a dead cat. I threw the package across the room and rushed to the kitchen sink. Hurling into the stainless steel, my mind started racing.

How did he find me again?

Why is this happening to me?

Why won’t he leave me alone?

I thought about calling the police, but I knew they wouldn’t be able to do anything more than what had already been done. I rushed into my bedroom and grabbed the bag under my bed. I got dressed in shorts and an old tank top before I emptied my drawers into the duffel. After doing the same with everything essential in the bathroom, I ran out the door. Ray Clyde was about to run me out of yet another home, but I didn’t know what else to do. I peeled out of my parking spot as fast as I could and just started driving.

I hated that I was leaving Boston. I had really started to enjoy it, especially since I was finally beginning to know the city and make some friends. I had finally found a good job that I loved, and now that was all flying out the window. Oh well—it was better to be running again than fucking dead.

I threw my cellphone out the window when I was a few miles down the highway. I knew I needed to check my car for wires, but I needed to get some distance between me and the city before I could calm down enough to do a thorough sweep.

“Fucking bullshit!” I screamed at the top of my lungs as I slammed my fists into the steering wheel. Tears of rage cascaded down as I fought to be able to see the road. Thankfully it was the middle of the morning and most of the traffic had died down.

I had no plan, and barely any money left. Where was I going to be able to go to finally be rid of my scum-of-the-earth, crazy, stalker of an ex-boyfriend? The image of the cat head in the box haunted me as I sped down the interstate. At least it wasn’t a dead dove like the last time—doves were my favorite. He knew animals were my weakness, and it seemed he was slowly going to send me corpses of every damn critter on the fucking planet.

I drove for over twelve hours. Even though my body was crashing, my adrenaline was keeping me going. I was in North Carolina, winding through some of the most breathtaking mountains and foothills I had ever seen.

My head started to bob as the tiredness took over. I strained to read the sign in front of me: Vilas – 5 miles. I could make it five miles. I started to slap my cheeks lightly, blasted the cold air, cranked up the radio, and bounced in my seat. I was coming in on fumes, but I made it. I pulled off into the gravel parking lot of what looked to be a biker bar. I didn’t care where the fuck I was—I just needed to sleep. I put my car in park, grabbed my sweatshirt from the back seat, reclined my chair, and dozed off.

* * *

A light tapping on my window woke me up. The sun was shining bright as I forced my stinging eyes to open.

“Ma’am? You all right?” a pregnant woman called through the glass. She had a sweet smile and kind eyes.

I rolled down my window, squinting from the sunlight. “Yeah, just had to pull off the highway last night before I fell asleep while driving.”

“How about you come on inside and grab a bite to eat before you head back on the road? You look like you could use a good, hot meal.”

I couldn’t argue with her; my stomach felt hollow. “Yeah, all right.”

I followed her into the bar after she unlocked the front door. “It’ll only be a few minutes for me to open up and everything. Why don’t you just take a seat and look at the menu while I run into the back real quick?”

“Thank you.” I did as she instructed. I stared down at the laminated page, not reading a damn word. I was still in shock that I was in the middle of the mountains in North Carolina because of my damn douche canoe of an ex. What a fucking joke.

“So, where are you headed?” she asked, making her way behind the bar.

I shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Just not back to where I came from.”

“Well, Vilas is a town filled with people running toward things and away from them. I’m Raine.”

She offered me her hand. Shaking it, I replied, “I’m Sloan.”

“It’s nice to meet you. There’s a motel right up the road if you need to crash somewhere other than your car for a night or two while you’re trying to figure out what the hell you’re going to do. It’s cheap and a bit dodgy, but it’s the only one in town.” She filled a glass with ice and water, setting it down on a coaster in front of me.

“Thanks. I’ll think about it.” The water tasted better than anything I’d ever had in my life—probably because I hadn’t had anything to drink or eat since the previous morning.

I chugged down two glasses of water and ordered a cheeseburger with a fried egg on top. It seemed so odd to me that someone as sweet as Raine was working behind the bar of such a dump.

She set my food down in front of me with a caddy full of condiments. “Enjoy,” she stated with a kind smile.

“What time is it?” I asked. It was odd that I didn’t have my phone. Moments like that really showed me how dependent our society had become on technology.

Raine glanced over at the bar’s register. “Almost noon.”

I ran my fingers through my long greasy hair. I wasn’t sure how long I had slept, but it was definitely at least twelve hours. Even so, my body was still exhausted. I knew I needed to set a game plan before I made any other moves, and I still needed to check my car for tracking devices and wires.

After I’d taken a couple of delicious bites of my messy burger, a few men wearing leather vests walked in. I had only seen bikers on TV and in the movies, and I would have been a liar if I didn’t admit that it was thrilling to see them in person.

Two of the men sat at the far side of the bar while the third walked around the back. It was adorable how much Raine’s face lit up when the guy scooped her into his arms and kissed her. Now it made sense why she was working there—she was part of their lifestyle.

Raine walked down the bar, hand in hand with her guy. “Sloan, this is my husband, Ryder.”

They were a young couple and seemed so much in love. It radiated from them in the simplest of ways—the way he touched her, the way she smiled at him, the way he glanced at her when she wasn’t looking.

We shook hands. “It’s a pleasure, darlin’. Raine says you’re just passing through, but if you need anything while you’re in town, we’d be more than happy to help.”

I bit my lip. Why are these people being so kind to me? It’s so sad that when people are actually being genuinely nice and trying to help out a stranger, the first reaction is to question their motives. I had always thought one-percenters were scumbag vigilantes who treated women like shit and had a total disregard for the law. In only minutes, this couple was proving my assumptions to be wrong.

“Nice to meet you. Could I actually get directions to that motel? I think having a home base for a day or two would be smart.” Right as Ryder was about to explain how to get to my destination, one of the other members walked up behind me.

“I’m headin’ in that direction, I could point it out to you on my way.” He was tall, big—not in a bad way, just muscular and wide—and had stunning ice blue eyes and a smile that could melt any girl’s panties on the spot.

Get a grip. You’re already running from one psycho of an ex.

“That’d be great.” I threw some money down on the wooden bar top. Turning to Raine, I thanked her for everything. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. You know where I’ll be most of the day if you decide to come back in for dinner or something. It’s not often we get women in here, and it’s kind of nice to not be the only set of tits in this place.” She giggled as Ryder eyed her for a second.

“You’re not a set of tits, babe, even though this pregnancy thing really has them looking nice these days.”

She hit her husband in the shoulder before waving goodbye to me.

“Ready?” the other member asked.

As I started to follow Mr. Sex-on-a-Stick out of the bar, he turned to me. “I’m Trent, by the way.”

I walked through the door he was holding for me. “I’m Sloan.”

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