I didn’t want to wake up. Not today.

Still, my eyes opened to a semi-dark room. Either I was done sleeping or something had woken me.

The sound of typing echoed through the motel room, and I rolled over, my mind surfacing into wakefulness.

Chaser was sitting at the table. He was fully clothed, and his hair was damp from a shower. But that wasn’t what made me sit up. He had my computer in front of him, the screen glowing as he not so gently smashed at the keyboard.

“What are you doing with my laptop?” I demanded.

“You need to call your blonde friend,” he replied, not even bothering to turn around.

“My blonde friend?”

“The one with the boobs.”

“Excuse me?” It was way too early for him to insult the fairer sex.

“You need to call her.”

“Why?” I groaned and rubbed my eyes. They were full of grit after crying myself to sleep last night. “You were the one who told me I couldn’t be Sloane anymore.”

“She’s filed a missing persons report.”

“Huh?”

So Yvette gave a shit. I’d believed it was only a marriage of convenience for covering her constant lateness, and here she was going to the cops. Thinking about Mrs. Adelstein and the security footage behind Teasers, I screwed up my face. Kinda stood to reason someone might report something.

“The sooner, the better, Sloane.”

“You smashed my cell,” I said. “How am I supposed to call when I’ve got no phone?”

He tapped the table and kicked the second chair out from underneath it.

Sliding out of bed, I knew I would not like what I saw. He had a phone this entire time, along with my money, and it was a glaring indicator to my dependence on him. The illusion I had any say in what was happening was about to shatter, and boy was it going to be spectacular.

A cell phone was sitting facedown on the table next to my laptop. Looking at the screen, I saw it was plastered with a police report with my face on it. Missing person, indeed.

“They have Wi-Fi out here?” I drawled.

“Sit down, Sloane.”

Sitting, I glanced at him out the corner of my eye. All traces of yesterday’s hero were gone. The kind words, the hint of desire, the push and pull. He was so closed off he bore a striking resemblance to a vault in Fort Knox.

Picking up the phone, he turned it on and handed it to me. I stared at the screen, earning myself one of his trademark glares.

“I don’t know her number off by heart,” I complained. “Nobody knows phone numbers anymore. It’s not nineteen ninety-five.”

Showing me the laptop screen, my mouth fell open. There was an address book that must’ve synced from my cell to the computer at some point. There was an entire list of everyone and everything I’d ever called or texted. It felt like he’d glanced up my skirt, the pervert.

“You went through my stuff?”

His eyes narrowed. “Call her, and don’t let on about…”

“About what? Because I’ve got a lot to say about the dead bodies, the kidnapping—”

“Sloane.”

“Fine.” Tapping in the number, I pressed the call button and slapped the phone to my ear.

It rang three times before Yvette picked up.

“Hello?”

“Yvette, it’s Sloane.”

“Sloane! Where are you?”

“I’m around,” I replied, glancing at Chaser.

“It’s been a week, Slo.”

“Sorry. I was busy.”

“Busy skipping out on me?”

“It’s complicated.” Chaser nudged me with his boot.

“I saw the security footage from out back,” she began, her speech stilted as if she was reading from a script, and my hackles rose.

“A guy tried to grab me when I went to take the trash out,” I said, attempting to throw her, and whoever was listening, off the scent. “It was nothing. He was off his face and couldn’t even stand up straight. You know what people are like at Teasers. He ran off, anyway.”

“You should’ve reported it,” Yvette complained.

“Maybe, but it was nothing. I’ve had worse. So have you.”

“Still…”

I paused, listening to the background noises. There was someone there, heavy breathing and shuffling papers. It wasn’t Yvette.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” I said after a moment.

“Where are you, Slo? Are you coming back?”

“Nah. I didn’t think anyone would miss me.” That was partially true. I’d never allowed myself to get too close to anyone considering who my father was. A broken childhood instilled certain fail-safes in my brain.

“I miss you!”

“Well, when I get settled, I’ll call you. Maybe you can tell me how Brittany’s going and all the gossip from Teasers.”

“Slo? Where are you settling?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve just gotta find a happy medium, you know? Work, cheap rent, internet access.”

“You still studying?”

I glanced at Chaser. “I’m trying to.”

“I’m worried about you, Slo.”

“You don’t have to be. I’m cool. Totally sweet or whatever the kids are saying these days.” Chaser made a cutting motion across his neck. “Listen, I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you soon, okay?”

“You better.”

“See ya.”

Hanging up the call, Chaser took the cell out of my hands and opened the back. He took out the SIM card and snapped it in half.

“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” I asked, watching as he tossed the pieces into the trash.

“What makes you say that?”

“One, you’re not making eye contact, and two, that call was totally traced.”

Chaser raised his eyebrows and made a point of looking at me.

“There was someone in the background,” I replied. “Heavy breathing like a total creep.”

“Until we get back to California, we have to be careful.”

“Do I have to cut my hair?”

He scowled and curled his lip. “What?”

“They do it in the movies. When people are on the run from the cops, they cut and dye their hair. Mainly to avoid security cameras, surveillance, and facial recognition.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder and twirled a strand around my finger. “Do you think I’d look good as a blonde?”

“You don’t have to change your hair,” he said with a growl.

“You like it long and dark?”

“Your attitude is wearing thin, Sloane.”

I smiled and glanced at his arm. “Any better?”

He grunted and closed the laptop with a snap. “The same.”

“At least it’s not bleeding.”

Chaser stood and crossed the room, gathering our things and shoving them into the bags. I watched him with a blank expression, weighing up everything in my mind.

We were in trouble. He knew it and was having a hard time covering it up. The hard-ass Chaser, whatever his last name was, appeared to be torn up about something. Hopefully, it had everything to do with our final destination and nothing to do with police and bad guy assassins.

“We need to go,” he barked, throwing my boots at me. “Now.”

“Chaser…”

Something in my voice must’ve slapped him back into reality, because he paused, and a little of the guy who’d surfaced the night before shone through.

“Are things going to be better once we get to Fortitude?”

Silence stretched between us. Outside, I could hear the residents of the motel waking up and moving around. A door slammed, a TV switched on, and something thumped against the wall. Beyond, the sounds of traffic swishing past were muffled by the building at our backs.

Chaser scowled and picked up his bag, pretending not to wince as his stitches pulled.

“Get in the car, Sloane.”

Sighing, I tugged on my boots.

Anywhere was better than here, I suppose.

* * *

Chaser was back behind the wheel, obviously recovered or tough enough to take charge again. I was wondering if he felt pain at all.

He wasn’t always a biker—that much was clear. I’d never known him while I’d been at Fortitude, so he was a recent recruit. How old was he, anyway? He had a baby face, but there were traces of silver at his temple. That meant little, though. I once knew a guy whose hair went eighty percent gray by the time he was twenty-three.

We were on some road full of potholes. On either side were fields of something growing for miles and miles. Neat green lines flashed past the window, representing something a great deal more orderly than my current life status.

I was so far from being in control it wasn’t even funny.

“Who are they?” I asked, breaking the three-hour cone of silence.

Chaser glanced at me, then turned back to the road.

“C’mon, what’s the harm in telling me?” I complained. “Who are the men after me?”

“Don’t worry about who they are,” he replied. “Worry about staying alive.”

“Someone is trying to kill me, Chaser. So far, there have been two attempts. I can’t let it go. Not when I almost lost my head yesterday.”

He remained silent.

“I’m in this up to my eyeballs, and I don’t know who the fuck you are, let alone what my father wants, because we both know these assholes that are after me are a thinly veiled attempt at sinking his poisonous claws back into me.”

“That bullet was the farthest thing from a thinly veiled attempt as you can get,” Chaser exclaimed.

“Who are they?”

He ground his teeth. It was a wonder he had any pearly whites left in his mouth at this point.

“Who are they, and why can’t we disappear someplace together?”

“You need to stop trying to convince me to run away with you.”

“I’m not going to stop because I want nothing to do with Fortitude. And neither do you.”

“Yet another story you’ve made up to convince yourself you have a chance,” he replied.

“Pull over,” I demanded.

“Not going to happen.”

“Pull over.”

“Nope.”

“Pull over the fucking car before I grab the wheel.”

With a growl, he swerved to the side, the wheels flying into the gravel, and slammed his foot on the brake. I was flung forward, and the seatbelt caught and tossed me right back.

“What?” he shouted. “What do you fucking want from me?”

“Do you think you’re the only tortured soul in the world?” I asked, seeing red. “Poor Chaser leading the life of a hired thug. He finds shit and brings it back like a dog chasing a stick.”

“Sloane.”

The warning was clear in his voice, but I wouldn’t back down. I was done with this bullshit. The back and forth, the false faces, the simmering attraction. It was time to snap him in half and find out what really made him tick.

“You hate it,” I continued. “You hate working for Fortitude. You’re not one of them. You’re too good for that petty shit. Your skills are too good. So what is it? Undercover cop? Ex-military? CI-fucking-A?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am—”

“It matters,” I argued. “Either you turn the car around and take me someplace else other than Fortitude or I walk.”

“Sloane, get it through your pretty little head. If you leave and go it on your own, you will be dead before the day is done. You get me?”

“Oh, I get you.”

“Then why are you still fighting me?” he exclaimed.

“Because you’re taking me to the last place on earth I want to be. Because there’s more to you than just a mindless biker carrying out the orders of your president. Because there’s something you’re holding back.”

“You know nothing,” he snarled.

Leaning toward him, I stared him straight in the eyes and curled my hands into his T-shirt.

“You think I’m just some dumb girl with an attitude problem,” I murmured. “You think I can’t handle myself or make any rational decisions. You think I need a man to save me. Well, you’re dead wrong.”

His eyes darkened. “You need to let me go.”

“You need to tell the fucking truth, Chaser. Why did you push me away last night?”

“You’re walking a dangerous path…”

“Why?” I tugged him toward me. “Tell me.”

He growled and pulled away, throwing open the door and climbing out of the car. I watched as he paced in front of the hood, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

Well, I suppose things were well and truly cracked open now. May as well go the whole hog and roll around in the ashes.

Getting out of the car, I strode toward him and raised my hand. My palm connected with his cheek and the crack echoed along the empty road. Epic improvisation right there.

Chaser stared at me in shock, rooted to the spot.

I stared right back, my body humming. From the tips of my nipples, right to my clit, I crackled with frustration that could only be rubbed out on the hood of the car with Chaser on top and inside.

I had a feeling things between us would always come to this point. A tense standoff on the side of a road someplace, staring one another down like angry wolves on the border between fucking and mauling each other to death.

Someone was trying to kill me to get to my father? So what?

Chaser practically kidnapped me? So what?

That was a gray area anyway because I went with him freely, to begin with. It was everything since that made me realize… I didn’t know anymore. All I could see was Chaser standing in front of me, his chest heaving and his gaze raking over my body. His eyes, his lips, his chest, and the dirty fantasy of his cock plowing into me on the hood of the car. Right here, right now.

We came together in a blaze of heat, his mouth taking mine with deadly accuracy. His arms circled around me as his tongue twined with mine, exhibiting a ravenous hunger that was hard to handle.

I melted, giving myself to his touch with an eagerness that was alarming. The kiss went deeper, the tension in my body coiling to a breaking point. His lips moved against mine, my tongue dove, my hands roamed, and all sense of where and when ceased to exist. All there was, was this kiss.

His taste only made me want him more. He was so wrong for me, but I didn’t care. My hands roamed over his back and grabbed his ass, and my clit flared as he tensed. Fuck me… Literally, fuck me.

Finally, he pulled away, and I stumbled back against the car, my knees buckling. My heart thrummed in an erratic beat that was borderline painful.

I wanted to kiss him again, and go all the way to the finish line, but something told me to stay still. Don’t move.

Chaser grasped my face in his hands and looked at me for a long time before he spoke.

“You’ve fallen headfirst into the snake pit, and you don’t even know it,” he murmured. “It’s better you know nothing.”

“I passed the point of no return the moment you showed up at Teasers. Full disclosure, Chaser. That’s what I want.”

He tensed and loosened his grip on my hair.

“I’m ready,” I murmured. “I’ll drop the smartass act. I’ll stop trying to run away. I’ll stop and listen to you. But you have to be honest with me. I want to make my own choices. I want to choose, you hear me?”

“If I go…” He swallowed hard. “If I take you someplace else, we’ll have two criminal organizations on our tail. It’ll never stop.”

“I don’t care.”

He sighed, his gaze lowering to my lips. “I do.”

I tensed, my heart twisting inside my chest. “So the only choice I have is between two evils? You understand you’re taking away the one thing I want the most? You get you’re taking away my freedom?”

“I’m sorry, Sloane,” he whispered, letting me go. “If I have to choose between Fortitude or death, I’m choosing Fortitude.”