“You’re free to go.”

It’s not the three little words that we’re supposed to long to hear, but hell, I’ll take the four the officer mutters over them any day. With them brings me more relief and happiness than any I love yous could have at this moment in time.

“Sign here,” he grumbles, his brow dipping low over tired, wrinkled eyes.

A snap pierces the dead air, and I startle when the officer slams a pen on the counter.

He drops a clear bag down next to the pen, which contains some jewelry and the loose change they’d confiscated from me when cuffing me along with everyone else at the Cutters’ club.

Without raising his head to look at me and blowing out an exasperated breath, he taps his finger on the line requesting a signature. He is obviously in need of a vacation.

Picking up the pen from the counter, I let the ink smudge out my name with a flick of my wrist over where he indicates and then hand it back to him before picking up the bag with my belongings inside.

“Thanks…” I offer, just stopping myself from adding ‘asshole’.

He grunts in return, still without looking up from whatever has his attention beneath the counter. Probably porn on his cell. Perv.

The overhead light buzzes and flickers, illuminating the small foyer area that’s empty apart from me one side of the counter and the officer on the other. It’s eerily quiet, and the unsettled stirring that’s been living in my gut since those assholes took me to the Cutters’ club is still present inside me.

I rush to the exit as fast as my shoes carry me, the fear they’ll decide to keep me longer if they realize who I actually am driving me forward in haste.

I’d assumed they thought I was just a club slut at the Cutters to party when one of the officers barked something about not seeing any reason to keep me longer than necessary, but he then whispered his name and told me to tell my dad he was responsible for me getting processed out. I pull out the object he’s slipped into the small pocket of my dress and sigh at the sight of my cell phone. Friends in enemy territory. It didn’t surprise me. Nothing did with my father.

Pushing through the glass door out into the brisk air, gulping down a lungful and sighing, I shiver when the cold breeze bites at my flesh. I have no coat and I’m still in my dress from the day before.

All my life I’ve been taught the police were the enemy, but tonight they saved me, saved me from that disgusting pig Axel, stopped him from finishing what he had intended when he forced me down a corridor and into a bedroom. A shudder ripples through me at the memory.

“You smell like a virgin. Either way, you’re going to bleed for me.”

Looking down at my thigh, the small thin bloodline is visible and angry from his knife. Bastard.

I was called Princess by all of Lilith’s Army, but a biker Princess was different than any other. I wasn’t a damsel, far from it. Aggressive, overpowering men like Axel didn’t intimidate me. I grew up with a brother more twisted than any other, and his darkness prepared me for the world, for men like Axel. I grew up quick and motherless, her death scarring me and molding me to accept the evil, to learn, grow, and prepare for it.

My cute features and pretty clothes always give people the wrong impression of me, and I like it that way. I’m unassuming, and that disarms people. It wasn’t what Axel expected that’s for sure.

Flicking my cell on it surprises me when it lights up. A text from my brother sends nervous energy crackling through my veins.

Don’t worry I’m coming for you.

The battery is on thirteen percent; enough to make a call. My finger hovers over my dad’s contact, but I know Scorch will be losing his mind with me being taken. I hit his number and pin the device to my ear. After three rings the connection is made, but he doesn’t speak.

“Hello?”

“Oh God, Princess, it’s you.”

“I need you to come pick me up, please, and can you bring some clothes with you?”

“I’ll be there, I’m coming right now. Don’t move.”

I look around the deserted streets moving towards the parking lot to wait and get out of the sight of any officers coming and going. A car pulls up across the street, some guy jumps out to use the ATM on the outside of a bank. His gaze drifts to me but doesn’t linger, then he’s gone, and I find myself alone with the wind and the leaves blowing around like twisters of crisp, brown streamers, the action causing a gentle rustle in the otherwise silence.

An engine rumbling towards me gains my interest when it pulls in and stops in front of me. My back straightens and I prepare for fight mode, the instincts deep-rooted in me impulsively rising to the surface.

The window rolls down and Buzz greets me. “Hey, Princess. Get in.”

Thank God.

Opening the door, I slam it shut and offer a grateful smile, but my face is numb from the cold, and I’m sure I look like an old woman with a face full of Botox.

“It’s so good to see a friendly face.” I reach over to turn up the heat.

He leans over me and snatches my cell phone, tossing it out the window. My mouth pops open to complain, but it shuts when he reaches for my seatbelt and pulls it across me, buckling me in. He’s so close that his arm brushes over my chest, causing my nipples to react from the contact. Mortification flushes through me, no doubt reddening my cheeks. It’s an issue all females have when anything comes in contact with our nipples, it doesn’t mean anything. However, he might not know that.

I try to ignore the fact he put my seatbelt on for me like I’m a five-year-old, and opt for, “What the hell? My phone?”

“It’s compromised.” Is all he mutters before screeching out of the parking lot.

“I thought Scorch was coming for me?” I ask, folding my arms to cover my chest.

“Change of plan. Get some sleep, you look tired.” His words are clipped and his shoulders are tight. I want to ask him more questions, but he’s right, I am tired.

I rest my head against the window and give in to the exhaustion.