My head is pounding worse than the worst hangover I ever had when I finally drift up into consciousness.

At first, I’m so disoriented that I don’t know where I am. Whatever I’m sleeping on is so hard that for a second, I don’t even think it’s a bed. It’s sure as hell not my bed, anyway. Which means I’m not at home. My eyes still closed, I frown and try to remember what happened last night. It comes back to me slowly through the brain fog. I was driving from Virginia, to where I thought Eden was, to try to find her. I remember arriving at the motel, then dumping my stuff and going to the bar…

Then arguing with Gonzalo. And then there was the biker guy who beat him up. And the biker telling me he saw Gonzalo slip a roofie into my beer. Then things get hazier, but I think I remember starting to feel woozy, and the biker guy taking me out of the bar and putting me on his motorcycle…

My eyes fly open.

“Hey. You’re up,” says a voice over by the door. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

I sit up and give a little yelp of surprise. Wild-eyed, I look half-terrified in the direction of the voice.

It’s the biker guy from last night. He’s sitting in the single chair next to the table.

“What are you doing in here?” I gasp.

“I decided to stick around to make sure you were okay,” he replies evenly. One corner of his mouth goes up in the hint of a smile. “How you feelin’?”

I start to panic, wondering what he’s done to me while I’ve been asleep. But I’m still wearing the dress I had on yesterday, and my body doesn’t feel any different, except for my pounding head. I risk a quick glance over at the second bed. The bedspread looks rumpled, as though someone spent the night lying on top of it.

Warily, I look back at him. “I’ve felt better.”

He laughs, revealing white, even teeth in a vaguely wolfish grin. “I bet. But I’m hungry as hell, and you should be, too. We should get some food in you. It’ll help clear your head.” He stands up from the chair and nods toward the door. “Come on. I’ll take you to breakfast. My treat.”

I want to refuse. I almost do. But I’m down to my last hundred dollars or so, and the prospect of getting a hot meal without even having to pay for it breaks down any resolve I have.

“Okay,” I accept softly. “Thanks. I appreciate it. But let me run to the bathroom first.”

“I’ll be outside,” he says, standing.

I briefly consider running to the door and locking it from the inside once it closes behind him. But the plain fact of the matter is, this man is at least twice or three times as strong as I am. He could easily break down any door between us. And if he’d wanted to do something to me, he’s had ample opportunity already. So instead, even though I wonder if I’m doing something completely crazy, I go into the tiny, cramped bathroom and carefully close the door behind me. I pee, then splash some cold water on my face and rinse my mouth out. Back out in the main room, I find my sandals, slip them on, and grab my purse. The key to the room is on the little table, and I toss it into my bag and wander out the door behind him.

Outside, it’s a bright, sunny day already. It doesn’t feel like early morning any more. I must have slept longer than I thought, thanks to the roofie Gonzalo put in my drink. The biker guy is already astride his motorcycle, waiting for me. I should have changed into jeans, I think ruefully, and almost go back inside. But then the bike starts up and the man gestures for me to get on. Well, somehow I managed to ride here in this dress last night, so I guess I can pull it off again. I toss the long strap of my bag over my head so it’s secure, then awkwardly get on and straddle the seat behind the man.

“I don’t even know your name,” I call over the roar of the engine.

“Gunner,” he calls back.

“Nice to meet you, Gunner,” I reply, feeling like a total moron. “I’m Alix.”

In response, he merely grunts. Gingerly, I wrap my arms around his waist, and he pulls out onto the highway.

Ten minutes later, we’re seated in a booth at a crowded diner. Delicious smells of hash browns and coffee are wafting toward us. Up until now, I wasn’t really hungry, but the food aromas remind me that I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. My stomach growls impatiently as I ponder the menu the waitress gave me. I feel like I could eat a horse, but I settle on the country breakfast with pancakes, eggs, and sausage. And coffee, of course.

“Good deal,” Gunner nods approvingly. “I was afraid you were gonna order some bullshit egg white, no-food omelet or something.”

“Not a chance. You were right, I’m starving.” I take a sip of the hot coffee the waitress just brought me. “Oh, that’s good,” I sigh. I take another sip, savoring the taste and the warmth.

“So,” Gunner begins after a moment, leaning back on his side of the booth. “You want to tell me what you were doing in that bar last night?”

Shit. I guess I should have known he might try to pry into that. “Look, I’m sorry,” I say, “But it’s really none of your business.”

He cocks a brow at me and smirks through his beard. “None of my business?”

“No offense, but you’re a total stranger, Gunner.”

“I’m a total stranger who saved your ass last night.”

He’s right, of course. Maybe I do owe him some sort of explanation, as payback for putting himself out there for me.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, chastened. “You didn’t have to do any of what you did. It’s just… well, it’s kind of personal.”

“He your boyfriend?”

“What? No!” I start laughing, the idea’s so ludicrous. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m just… looking for someone. I think Gonzalo might know where she is.”

“Someone?”

“My sister,” I admit.

He nods, considering this. “She his girlfriend?”

I look down at the table. “Something like that,” I say softly. “Look, can we talk about something else, at least until the food gets here? I’m still feeling a little queasy, and my head hurts.”

He gives me an easy grin and lifts his chin once. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

“Um. I don’t know.”

“Hey, you don’t want to talk about your sister. You pick the conversation subject.”

I sigh. “Fine,” I say, a little irritated. “Do you go to the Smiling Skull very often?”

He smirks again. “From time to time.” He doesn’t go any further, and after a few seconds I realize he’s purposely not saying much so I’ll have to keep asking questions to keep the conversation going. Jackass.

I shake my head and snort softly. “Okay. What’s the Lords of Carnage?” I ask, glancing at one of the patches on his leather vest.

“It’s an MC out of Tanner Springs, about an hour west of here.”

“MC?”

“Motorcycle club.”

“And what’s a ‘road captain’?” I say, reading from another patch.

“It’s more or less what it says. When the MC’s on the road, I’m the captain. I organize our runs, and make sure shit goes as planned.”

“A run?” I wrinkle my nose. “Like a group motorcycle ride?”

“Yeah. Like that.”

The waitress arrives with our food, and for a few minutes, neither of us says anything as we eat. I’m so hungry and the food’s so good that I have to restrain myself from moaning as I chew. It’s an effort to eat slowly, and that takes up all my mental energy for a while.

Eventually, I take a last bite of sausage and lean back against the faux leather of the back rest. My head has finally stopped pounding so hard, and my mind is starting to feel clearer. “Oh, my God, I’m stuffed,” I sigh happily. “I feel so much better.”

“Glad to hear it.” Gunner shoots me a sexy grin. I don’t know if it’s because I’m finally starting to feel human again, but that grin sets something off inside me that feels almost like electricity. It’s like just for one dizzying, mesmerizing second, he’s not some dangerous stranger who inexplicably helped me last night. And I’m not some stupid girl who’s completely out of her element on some hopeless mission to find her sister. For just one tiny moment, there’s this little signal that feels like it’s just between us. Like the grin is just for me, and no one else. Like it’s the prelude to something… intimate. His eyes are locked on mine, and all of a sudden all I can think about is how impossibly blue they are.

Then I realize I’m staring at him, and quickly drop my gaze.

A long second passes.

“So. Now that you’re feeling better,” he continues as if nothing just happened, “you said you’re looking for your sister.”

My head feels like it’s starting to spin again. But this time, it has nothing to do with the drug Gonzalo gave me. My mind just flashed back to an image from last night, when I was on the back of Gunner’s bike, my arms wrapped around him as he drove me to the motel. I remember the masculine smell of his leather and the hard muscles of his torso under his shirt. But mostly, I remember how sexual it felt, sitting back there pressed up against him.

My skin starts to feel all tingly at the memory, and even though Gunner’s all the way across the table, all of a sudden he feels uncomfortably close.

“Yeah,” I murmur, trying to focus on what he’s saying.

“So, if you’re staying in a motel, you’re obviously not from around here,” he prompts.

“No. Uh, Virginia.”

He gives a brief nod, almost like my answer passes some sort of test or something. “So, why the fuck are you staying in that dump? There’s gotta be better places around here than the Parkside Motel.”

“It’s all I can afford,” I admit. Actually, I can’t even afford that.

His innocent question starts me down the path of lamenting again how much money I spent for a night in that hovel of a room. Then, suddenly, my heart jumps in panic.

“Oh, my gosh, what time is it?” I blurt out.

Gunner glances over my shoulder to a spot above the counter, where there must be a clock hanging on the wall. “Ten-thirty.”

“Shit!” I cry. “Checkout time’s at eleven. They’ll charge me for another night if I don’t leave the room in time! The manager told me they’re very strict about it. I need to go!”

Gunner raises his eyebrows at me. I feel my face start to turn red. I don’t need anyone knowing the direness of my financial situation. Certainly not this near-total stranger who’s already saved my neck once. But the reality is a stark one: if I have to pay for another night, I won’t even have enough money to make it back to Virginia. I’ll sleep in my car if I have to. But I can’t afford any more motels if I want to find Eden before my money runs out completely.

“Please,” I beg, ignoring the heat in my cheeks. “You’ve been so kind to me already. I really don’t want to take any more advantage of you. But could you take me back to the motel to get my bag and check out?”

Gunner contemplates me for a second, his face expressionless. Then he gives me a brief nod and raises his hand for the check. “Okay. I’ll get you back there in time.”

“Thank you so much!” While he pays the bill, I run to the bathroom and take a couple of seconds to compose myself. In the mirror, I look pale and frightened. I forgot to brush my hair this morning, and my white dress is definitely the worse for wear. I hope I get back to the motel in time to change into something else before I have to be out of the room.

We end up making it back with ten minutes to spare. Gunner waits outside and smokes a cigarette while I throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, pull my hair into a pony, and give my teeth a quick brush. Stuffing the few items I’ve unpacked back into my small backpack, I grab the key and am out the door walking toward the front office at five minutes to eleven, relief flooding my veins.