I heard his car start and then the noise faded away. It was only a moment later when the door opened, and the big light was flicked on. I jolted in fear.

Standing over me was a massive blond Nordic God-looking guy wearing jeans and a sky-blue t-shirt that was the same shade as his eyes. He had short blond hair and a blond trimmed mustache and beard, and his veiny arms were the size of tree trunks. They were also completely covered in black tribal patterns.

“I’m Brady. You need anything?”

I turned my back to him and put the pillow over my head with my free hand.

“Babe? You need to use the can, or you want somethin’ to drink or anything?”

I ignored him.

“All right. Just holler. Hear you’re good at that.”

The light went off and the door clicked shut.

Was that a reference to my temper or the sounds of us having sex? Ugh.

 

This situation was fucked. FUCKED. I fall for a gorgeous guy who seems to be interested. We have great sex and fun banter, but he keeps standing me up due to drama with his MC. Ongoing drama that should’ve been my red flag, but I ignored it. Like a dummy all fogged by his pierced thick cock.

We have sex again and then he makes it crystal clear, in a way that can’t be described as anything but a dick way, that it’s not gonna be anything else. I’m suddenly under threat, only because of my association with him, and suitably pissed off because of what I’ve learned about him and out of that, he starts acting like he’s crazy about me and that fighting with me is foreplay. He’s had me kidnapped, keeps my phone, keeps cuffing me to the bed, and he had sex with me while I was sleeping.  Even though he says he only barely got off the other times he fucked me. The sex that was the best sex of my life was bad for him.

How mortifying. But then I considered that video and the kind of sex he obviously liked. The things he tried to do. The dirty-talking he tried to get me to participate in. He was a pig. A pervert. Plain and simple.

A little voice in my head nudged that it was maybe kind of gallant that he was going all alpha caveman and keeping me here to keep me safe, but I didn’t let that voice get any louder. Because it might not mean anything.

And even if I meant something to him, it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t let my guard down. If I let my guard down, he had the ability to stomp on my heart even worse than Michael did.  Telling me I was lousy in bed hurt almost as much as what Michael did. That was an asshole move and I was not down with that. That was not the basis for a relationship. Being an alpha-hole and hating my sex skills?

I was older, wiser, more jaded, and better at hiding my pain than I’d been seven years earlier with Michael.

We’d had sex twice. This wasn’t a relationship. This was barely an acquaintance.

And some guys wanted to slit my throat because of a guy I was acquaintances with. I was in danger of being kidnapped and sexually assaulted and then murdered. And Ella was in some sort of trouble right now that meant he had to drive off in the middle of the night to wade in, and I had no idea what it was.

I prayed that she was okay and that the Wyld Jackals hadn’t gotten anywhere near her. How dare he tell me he had to help Ella and then not tell me what was up! He leaves me overnight to stew. Handcuffed. Asshole. Asshole who has me kidnapped to save me from being kidnapped! My head was spinning.

The reality of my situation had hit me and was hitting me hard. It pounded around in my brain half the night.

***

I woke up to the clink of my handcuff being uncuffed.

“Hey.” Brady leaned over. I rubbed my eye with my other hand and flexed that one, trying to get rid of the pins and needles.

“You don’t gotta get up. I’m outside workin’ out and didn’t wanna not hear if you hollered for me.”

“Couldn’t Bronto have listened for me?”

“Bronto’ll be givin’ ya a wide berth,” he said with a snicker and winked.

He was now in a skin tight white tee and track pants. Grey ones. That outlined his… whoa. I quickly looked back up to his face. The guy’s arms were so muscular and veiny he looked like he was jacked up on steroids or something.

He walked away, and I could see his butt was just as buff.

I blinked twice. Who knew there were so many hot bikers?

“Wait. What’s happened? Is Ella okay? Did you hear from Rider?”

“All’s good now. They put her jackoff ex in the hospital.”

“What? Jay? Why?”

He shrugged. “Don’t remember the fucker’s name. He’s lucky he just got roughed up after the shit he pulled.”

“Huh? What shit?”

He looked at me curiously.

“I’m Ella’s best friend and I’m incommunicado. Out of the loop. Fill me in!”

“He was workin’ with the enemy to try to abduct Ella and ambush the brothers at the same time.”

My eyes boinged.

“They never got that far. Ride’ll be here soon. He’s just gettin’ checked out with Deke at the hospital. I’ll leave the handcuff off. So long as you behave.” He winked at me and moved away.

“What? Why?”

“The enemy set the Aberdeen clubhouse on fire this mornin’. Burnt the bar out. Ride’s fine. He fell out a window helpin’ Spence get Chakotay out.”

My body jolted in shock. “Cha-who?”

“Spence’s dog. Spence, Ride, and Deke were sleepin’ when they set the building ablaze. Molotov cocktail. I just talked to Ride. He’ll be here soon. Just getting’ the VP, er… his dad checked. His dad used to be my VP. Keep forgettin’, he’s Prez there now. Then he’ll be on his way here. You want coffee? I can put it on while I mix up a shake.”

“I’ll get it. Go ahead and work out.”

He gave me a smile and moved out of the room.

I ran to the bathroom. I’d been holding it half the night.

Holy crap. There was a lot that’d happened the night before.

Jay in the hospital after a kidnap ploy? Deke, Spencer, and Rider’s clubhouse / apartment and their bar set on fire? I had to push away the feelings I had at the notion of Rider being burnt to death. My heart hurt.

I peed for what felt like ten minutes, splashed water on my face and brushed my teeth. I moved to the kitchen. Bronto was there, drinking from a Redbull can. He moved back and gave me room.

I ignored him and started rooting for coffee supplies. He passed me filters.

I looked up at him. When our eyes met I saw he was looking at me cautiously.

“Everyone’s okay? The fire?” I asked.

He nodded. “Jess and Scott were already outside, so they saw. They called the fire department. They worked together. Everyone’s breathing.”

I let out a breath. “Where’s Ella?”

“Far’s I know, she was home safe with Deacon when it happened.”

“Can I call her?”

Brady moved into the kitchen and leaned past me to reach into the fridge for a gallon of milk, which he mixed with his powder. The powder bottle said, ‘All Natural’. If those muscles were all natural, not steroids? Wow.

“No phone calls, sorry, babe. You need somethin’ you ask me till your old man gets here. Not Teddy Bear.”

“My old… what?”

“Rider,” he looked at me like I was dimwitted.

I rolled my eyes. “Rider and I are not together. And who is Teddy Bear?” I asked.

“Brontosaurus here.” Brady was shaking a lidded cup with his powder and the milk. Bronto moved out of the kitchen, trying to look casual.

“Ella nicknamed him that or somethin’. It stuck, particularly since he’s afraid of ya.”

Bronto shot Brady a dirty look, “Teddy Bear isn’t any worse than Cuddle Bear.” He sipped his energy drink some more.

Brady threw his head back and laughed heartily.

Okay, whatever that meant.

And holy crap, when he laughed like that he looked like an extra-tall, extra-bearded, and extra-jacked Jax Teller.

Whoa. I shook off that thought.

“You and Ride aren’t together?” Brady asked.

“Uh no,” I said.

His eyes traveled the length of me. And I jolted. He looked at me like he could see me naked through my clothes.

“They’re together,” Bronto piped up.

Both Brady and I looked to Bronto.

“We are not!” I said.

Bronto looked to Brady. “To Ride, they are.”

Brady gave a tight smile with a nod. “You are.”

“To me, we’re not,” I snapped.

“Doesn’t matter. If Ride says you are, then you are.” Brady shrugged and sipped his shake.

“You know Ella?” I asked, changing the direction of this ridiculous conversation.

“Yeah. Met her at the clubhouse on the weekend. She was drunk as fuck, hanging outside my bedroom door about to pass out in the hallway in just her man’s shirt. Sweet girl. She’s a riot.”

I gave my head a shake. Ella. God, I needed to talk to her. I needed to sit and go over everything, sift through it scene by scene, word by word. Even the devastating words. My heart hurt way too much.

I hit the button for the coffee and then followed Bronto to the family room.

“Not afraid of ya, Jenna. Just don’t like you mad at me,” Bronto mumbled, not looking at me.

“Rider fell out a window?” I asked, feeling my posture soften. This big biker was definitely a teddy bear.

Bronto’s eyes met mine and he nodded. “Not a far fall. He and Spence both had to take a bit of a tumble working to get Deke and the dog out. Nothing’s broken.”

I shook my head and sat.

“Wanna watch more Breaking Bad? They have the whole series on Blu-Ray. Or you can pick a movie?” Bronto offered, gesturing to a bookshelf filled with DVDs.

I looked into the cabinet of movies and there were four shelves of guy movies, but surprisingly, one entire shelf of chick flicks. I grabbed Pretty Woman and popped it in. I needed something else to focus on for the moment.

Bronto didn’t utter a word of complaint.

***

Bronto and I watched the movie while Brady worked out, the whole time, outside, me having a front row seat on the other side of the picture window. To be honest, I might’ve watched Brady more than I watched Julia Roberts and Richard Gere.

Brady worked out with ropes, carrying tires back and forth in what looked like a relay race, checking his stop watch and timing himself. He did push-ups, pull-ups on a gazebo at the side. Watching his muscles move was mesmerizing. He was a beast.

He came in near the end of the movie and I asked, “Training for a competition?”

“Just a workout. Grabbin’ a shower.”

Wow. I could use a shower myself after watching that. A cold one.

I shook my daze off.

Bronto snickered, knowingly.

“Perv,” he accused.

I gasped in surprise. “No!”

He laughed. “Yeah.”

I shook my head and ignored him.

“Want some Reese Puffs?” Bronto asked.

“Yeah, okay,” I said.

He got up to get us some. We both ate two bowls of it.

An hour later, I decided to get a shower, too. The bunkbed room’s closet was stocked with towels. And it was a good thing, because I had to use some to mop up the lake Brady left behind in the bathroom. There was a rack of hooks on the back of the door. I hung them all up, and climbed into the shower.

After my hair was washed, in mid body-lather, I realized I wasn’t alone. I jolted in horror, but saw it was Rider was in here with me, despite the locked door. Naked. In the shower with me.

I glared at the black heart tattoo, remembering that video.

“What the eff?” I grumbled at him. Mad, but relieved, in a way, it was just him.

He smiled at me and then his eyes moved down to my lathered-up boobs.

“Did you land on your head when you fell out that window?” I bit off.

He laughed while pulling me closer. I gave him a shove and pushed my way out, getting momentarily tangled up in the shower curtain, and he didn’t help me, just watched me. I nearly slipped on the again soaking-wet bathroom floor, but caught myself.

I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my nakedness and stormed into the bedroom, hair dripping water down my body. It was then I realized I had nothing to wear and zipped into the other bedroom, the bunk bed one. I pushed away thoughts of the big scrapes down his stomach, arm, and thigh that I’d seen. I had to ignore it, or I’d feel sorry for him and think about how terrifying it would’ve been to get caught in a fire and fall while climbing out of a window.

I rifled through a closet that was packed to the brim with men’s clothes, blankets, and towels. I found men’s grey sweatpants with a drawstring that I swam in, but I didn’t care. I rolled the pantlegs up and pulled the drawstring tight.

I skipped undies, of course. Though there were two shelves of boxers and boxer briefs. I wasn’t wearing some unknown person’s underwear or putting my worn ones back on. I’d wear a pair if they were the underwear of my guy.

Kevin, the guy I dated before my last boyfriend Ryan, thought it was cute that I was always stealing clean underwear when I stayed at his place when we stayed in bed on Sundays. He loved it.  Men’s boxer briefs were super comfortable. Especially after sex.  

But now?  I didn’t have a guy. Kevin and I had been going nowhere, so I’d ended things. He was always making comments about me being high maintenance. Besides, we didn’t have much going for us other than stay-in-bed Sundays. Kevin was good with his tongue.  But as good as he was, he never got the noises from me that Rider did.

I pushed that thought away, firmly. Over a cliff.

Ryan ended things with me, because I was too high maintenance, too.

And Rider certainly wasn’t my guy. 

I only hoped whoever owned these track pants didn’t also go commando in them.

I carefully got dressed under my towel in case anyone else tried to come in. I threw a grey Adidas hoodie on top that was so big on me I could’ve swam in it. I had no bra on, because he’d had me kidnapped on Braless Sunday (the new name for the former Stay-in-Bed Sunday).

I also stole a pair of black tube socks and put them on and then grabbed my bag to look for a comb, sitting down in the living area.

He came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, looking hotter than should be legal. And I could see injuries from his fall even more clearly. And I felt like an asshole for my flippant comment about falling on his head. Not to mention when I told him to ‘fuck off and die’.

He went into the bedroom with the bunk beds, presumably to get clothing, so I aimed my gaze out the window. The place was well-hidden in the trees and some of the leaves were starting to change color. I stewed in my self-torture until he came out, in jeans and a white t-shirt with a Harley Davidson logo on it. Bare feet.  His long wet hair slicked back by a comb. He had a black hooded sweatshirt in his right hand.

He ran his fingers on his left hand to slick back his wet hair some more and leaned against the wall in the opening of the hallway, leveling a very serious gaze on me. And then he tossed the sweatshirt at me.

“Wear that instead.” It was a Dominion Brotherhood hoodie.

“Yeah, no. I’m good.” I glared at the shirt that’d landed beside me.

“Those’re my sweatpants you’ve got on, but you’re wearing Spence’s sweatshirt right now. Take it off. Wear that.”

I laughed. Wow. This was rich.

I ignored his dirty looks and folded my arms across my chest.

“Change the sweatshirt, Jenna.” He said.

“Pfff. Make me.”

That was the way wrong response.

He moved toward me quickly, grabbing me by the shirt while snatching up the shirt he’d thrown on me, making me scamper back. He held it in front of me.

“Gladly.”

“Back off!” I barked.

“Put it on, or I’ll do it,” he barked back, not a trace of humor in his voice, nor on his face.

The look on his face, the intensity of his gaze, so serious, my heart stuttered.

I stomped down the hall, and closed myself up in the bedroom we’d slept in. I’d taken the hoodie with me, so I tossed it to the floor and climbed into the bed.

I seethed for a bit and then I guess I drifted off, because one minute I’m looking out the window and it was sunny and then it was dark, and I was flailing, panicked. And the shirt I had on was sliding up and over my face.

What the fuck?

“This is comin’ fucking off.” It was him. He pulled the shirt over my head, leaving my upper body naked. 

“Seriously?” I hissed, covering my boobs.

“Seriously.” He, straddling me, dropped the other sweatshirt over my head and then climbed off, heading toward the door with the other sweatshirt.

I pushed my arms through the armholes. It was only a little roomy on me. It didn’t even seem like it’d fit him. And it had that soft feeling inside like a brand-new hoodie that hadn’t been worn.

After ages, I wandered out and found him sitting on a couch, heard him talking on the phone.

“No. It’s gonna need to be completely rebuilt. But it’s not enough for a clubhouse. We need a clubhouse within a fortress, like there where we can keep all our women safe when shit amps up like this.”  His eyes were on me. I walked past him to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out a Coke, screwing my face up as I much preferred Pepsi. I sat on the couch opposite him and kept my eyes on him as I popped the tab open.

His eyes were still on me and they were burning a trail straight through me. Why was he looking at me like that?

He kept talking. “No. Chakotay’s good. Spence took him to the vet before he even got himself checked out. Dad and Spence are staying at Ella’s for now. Dad says they’ll probably rent a house until they find the right place… Yeah, well if she shows, tell her nothing. She doesn’t need to know squat. Naw, I’ll call her when I get a chance. Got my hands full right now. Brady’ll stay there the night with you. Boys’ll patrol regularly throughout the night. I’ll come get you in the morning. She shows, don’t tell her we’re comin’ and that you’re goin’ or she might let that slip, too. Yeah…Okay. See ya. Love you, too.” He ended the call.

I blinked at him.

“We gotta pick up Jojo tomorrow. She’s comin’ here.”

I sipped my Coke, my eyes on him.

“Joelle. My sister,” He clarified, as if I’d asked. I hadn’t.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Who?”

“Bronto, Jesse.”

“Prospects are takin’ care of club stuff. Brady went to take care of my sister.”

“When can I go home?”

He stared at me a beat, assessing me or thinking about his answer. I didn’t know. I heard a phone. My phone. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the screen. “Your mother again.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Again?”

“She’s called a coupla times. I called Pippa and asked if she’d call her and cover for you.”

“Pip?”

“Yeah. She said she’d call and smooth things out.”

My head was going to implode. “Pippa can’t handle my mother!” I grabbed handfuls of my hair on either side of my head.

Rider frowned.

“Mom’ll chew her up and spit her out. Pippa’s sugar and my mom is gasoline. What on earth was she gonna say?”

He leaned forward. My phone stopped ringing.

“Maybe she said you and your new man went away for a little romantic getaway.” And then he smirked.

“Gimme the phone!”

It started ringing again. I looked over. It was Mom calling again.

“Give it to me, damn it!”

“What’re you gonna say?” he asked, his voice a warning, holding the phone back.

“I’ll think of something. I have to answer that!”

The phone stopped ringing again. Both times it’d only rang twice. That told me she was agitated. She was calling on purpose, not wanting to get my voicemail, but wanting me to see she was calling over and over and over.

I was flexing my fingers while pacing.

“Are there voicemails?” I asked. “I need to check.”

He hit some buttons and put it on hands-free.

“You have… six… new messages. First message:”

“Gimme it,” I ordered, wanting it off speaker.

He shook his head and held his finger up.

Mom’s voice rang through and it sounded chipper. Strangely chipper.

“Jenna? It’s your mother. Call me back as soon as possible, please. Daniel Sotheby was very taken with you this morning. Sounds like you were, too. I’m thinking we should do dinner at the country club next Saturday. Let me know if I can book the two of you in for our table with us. See? I know what I’m doing…”

I rolled my eyes. That was why she sounded chipper. She thought she scored on her matchmaking efforts. She was saccharine sweet and that only happened in situations like that one.

Rider’s face was like stone.

He hit a button.

“Message erased. Next message.”

“Jenna, hey. It’s Dan. Had a great time meeting you this morning. Sorry again for railroading you into it. But naw… not sorry. It was great we finally met. Just wanted to … you know… call and tell you that. What do you think about dinner? Hit me up.”

Rider’s jaw was clenched, and he was staring at my phone with a look that should’ve made the phone burst into flames.

I got a chill and I shivered. Wow. Really? 

“You wanna gimme my phone?” I hissed, reaching out.

His burning gaze moved from my phone to me. And he stared, trying to scorch me with his eyes. Next came Pippa’s voice.

“Jen! It’s me. Where are you? Your ten o’clock and your ten thirty are both here. Aaaand you’re not. You didn’t come home last night. Hope you were having fun getting boned by your beautiful biker and aren’t drunk and face down in a ditch missing a shoe again. Haha! Told ya you’d never live that down. Call me. Or get your sexy ass in here. They both say they’ll wait a bit longer.”

Shit. Pippa. Pippa didn’t know everything. I said nothing on Friday, regarding the fact that things had gone bad Thursday night with Rider. I’d been quiet and in a funk and did not want to talk about it. She’d been fully booked that day so for all she knew, Rider and I were dating, having fun, and getting serious. I hadn’t even gone into detail about Dan. I’d just said he was a friend of one of Mom’s colleagues and rolled my eyes when I went for my early lunch.

Rider raised just his left brow at me and pushed the button.

“Message erased. Next message.”

“Gimme that.” I reached for it.

He lifted it and held it out of my reach.

More messages played.

 “Jenna?

Mom. Damn.

“I called you last night. Return my call please. Immediately.”

She no longer sounded like she’d been replaced by a Sugary-Happy-Mom-Robot. She sounded like her usual self.

“You have no right to listen to my voicemails, Rider Valentine,” I hissed.

He hit the button.

“Message erased. Next message.”

“Genevieve Maybelle Murdoch.”

Great. Just great.

Rider choked on laughter.

I flopped on my back on the couch, palms over my eyes.

“This is your mother and I left you several messages already. Philippa’s voicemail was laughable. I don’t know what business conference you could possibly jet off to, but my sources tell me you’re off with that biker. Lovely, Genevieve. Whoring around with criminals. Not returning my calls. Really. You either return my call yourself within the next few hours or you’ll be sorry. I think you know that.”

Sources. Her sources? Ugh. Knew it! Always felt like she was spying on me.

I kept my hands over my face. I felt the couch shift as he moved in. His arm went around me, and his hand landed on my hip and he squeezed.

No more noise came out. I heard the noise of him putting the phone down. Thank God we weren’t going to listen to the rest of the messages.

“I was gonna say, you wanna call her, in case she’s worried? But, it doesn’t sound like she’s worried.”

I shook my head. Not looking at him.

“Your mother sounds like a royal bitch, Jenna.”

I nodded, without taking my hands off my eyes.

I heard the sound of his phone dialing out. Ringing. I lifted my fingers and sat up straighter. No. My phone, not his.

Who was he calling?

His hand left my hip and moved to the back of my neck and squeezed. Reassuringly. And then he rubbed my back. Sweetly. A funny sensation prickled thorough me at this affection.

“Mrs. Murdoch? My name’s Rider. I’m with your daughter and Jenna is fine.” His eyes were on his hand as he rubbed my back from the top to the small of it and then his hand went up and down some more.

“No!” I whisper-shouted and tried to take the phone off him. He removed his hand from my back to grab my wrist and held it. I waved my other hand frantically, shaking my head. He ignored my warning.

“Yes, Jenna’s with me. She wanted to call you, and it’s my fault she couldn’t. I apologize if you were concerned.”

I deflated even further. This couldn’t possibly go well. My wrist in his grip went limp. He didn’t let go.

“There’s an issue with my MC that has put Jenna in a bad position. Through no fault of her own. I take responsibility. I took her out of town to keep her safe while the heated situation simmers down… yes, ma’am, motorcycle club…” His fingers released my wrist, but he weaved his fingers with mine and squeezed.

And I couldn’t give head-space to the fact that he was holding my hand, seeming like he was trying to reassure me.

And then as he listened, his eyes moved to mine and were a mixture of warmth and horror. He felt bad for me. He was experiencing an amped-up Karen Murdoch in all her bitchy condescending glory.  His face twitched in a ‘What the fuck’ motion and then I saw a swallow move down his throat.

“Well, Mrs. Murdoch, it’s a little complicated and I’d rather not go into specifics right now, but I wanted to let you know that she’s safe and --- no, I understand. I’d imagine within a few days, but I can’t say for sure. Pippa and Debbie have things in hand with the salon… Well…we’ll have to assess---. Your daughter’s safety is my prior---. Right, well--- we’re a club, not a gang, first of all, and---actually I am gainfully employed.” He looked at me with horror. “Okay then… no, that was my doing, not hers, and I apologize to you for th---. Yeah, I’ll tell her… Right… Right… Okay. Bye.” He put the phone down and took a big breath and gave my hand, still in his, a squeeze.

“She said I should make sure to tell you that you need to call her by this time tomorrow or she’ll have your father set up the listing.”

I let out a huff and closed my eyes tight.

“Babe… sorry to say, but your Mom?”

I looked him in the eye.

“She’s a bit of a cunt,” he said.

I busted up laughing. I laughed so hard that I toppled off the couch onto my ass.

He looked at me like I was crazy. 

He leaned over and held his hand out. I took it and he helped me up.

“The bitch who gave birth to me belongs to the same club, so I can relate,” he said.

“Oh, I bet my Mom has your mother beat by a mile. My mother isn’t just a bit of one… She’s of the prehistoric meat-eating C-a-saurus Rex variety. Purebred.”

He snickered. “Dunno which is worse, but eventually you’ll see Shelly in action and you might eat those words.”

“We’ll see.” I said.

“We will,” he chuckled. “She might even motivate you to use the actual word.”

I laughed, but then my laughter died when I realized that the air felt too light around us. I cleared my expression and looked the other way, pulling my hand out of his and tucking both hands between my knees.

“What’s that mean, anyway?” he asked, tucking my hair behind my ear with his fingertips, making me shiver.

“What?” I asked, avoiding eye contact.

“Set up the listing?”

My shoulders slumped. My whole body did, actually. “My salon. It’s in my parents’ name. She’s threatening to sell it out from under me.”

He looked shocked. “Because you took off for a few days?”

I nodded. “They own the building that the shop and my apartment are in as well as the business. It’s supposed to be my thing and we have a five-year plan and we’ve got three years to go before I can buy them out with early access to money my grandmother left me. She’s not supposed to be my boss or anything, but she acts like she is. Like at any point, she can pull the plug. She doesn’t hesitate to remind me of that when I displease her. She likes me on a tight leash.”

“That’s whacked,” he muttered.

I lifted just one shoulder in a shrug.

His phone rang, and he lifted it, looked at me a beat, and then stepped outside with it.

My phone was sitting there on the table while he was gone.

And then it rang with my father’s name on screen.

Yikes. I stared at it and let it go to voicemail.

I stared out the window, lost in thought.

Rider was pacing, on the phone, and I had no idea what it was about, but he was gone ages.

When he was back, he found me staring into the fridge.

“Anything good?”

“Just junk,” I mumbled and shut the fridge door and opened the freezer again.  Pizza pops, toaster strudel, frozen pizza, a box of frozen chicken fingers, and a bag of frozen fries. An unidentified red butcher paper package. Old-looking popsicles. Some ice. A half a bottle of Grey Goose.

“There’s steaks in there,” he said, and pulled the red butcher paper wrapped bundle out. “I’ll set the fire up.” He went to another cupboard stocked to the brim with canned goods, pasta, rice. He pulled out a can of peeled miniature potatoes and a can of baked beans.

He unwrapped the frozen steaks and put them in a Ziploc and filled the sink with water and dropped them in there.

I watched for a minute and then I went to the movie cabinet and the ‘girl’ shelf. I pulled out 13 Going on 30. I loved that movie. And I needed a distraction.

But, I was watching him out the window more than I was watching the movie.  First, he was making a fire and then he was putting a big grate on top of the fire pot.

When he got back in, he threw a sweatshirt on from the hooks by the door, and then went to the kitchen and was making all sorts of noise in there. I turned the movie up, trying to ignore him.

He was in and out a bunch of times. I tried ignoring the nagging emotions. How it’d feel if we were together and he was mine and making dinner for me. I’m a crap cook, but I’d set the table nice. Light candles. Wear something sexy. Do the dishes after.

It’d be nice to have a cabin getaway like this. Really nice.

Sadness fell over me like an itchy old blanket as I considered the fact that I’d never have that with him. Not for real. As soon as this danger and drama was over, that’d be the end. It was already the end.

We were just stuck together right now because of the circumstances.

I had to stop letting my mind wander to what might be. Because it wouldn’t be.

“Dinner’s ready, babe,” he said, coming in with a plate with two steaming steaks on it. He put them on the long bar. I stared. He went back out and came in again with a frying pan that was also steaming.

I moved over and saw that he’d already set up two places for us. He’d cooked the canned mini potatoes in a way that had them all crispy. The steaks smelled really good. Even the can of baked beans he’d warmed on the stove smelled good. He plated everything and grabbed two beers and sat.

I stared at the plate, my eyes stinging.

I had to push it away.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like medium? I like rare, but I figure you’re a girlie girl, so you probably don’t wanna see much blood, but no way am I ruining that steak by cookin’ it till you’re left with nothin’ but shoe leather.”

I sliced into it and it was done perfectly.

“I like it medium,” I said softly and took a bite. It was good. It had an interesting flavor. And it practically melted in my mouth. I swallowed.             

And then I burst into tears.

He dropped his fork.

Fuck. I’m so stupid. Bursting into tears. Ugly-crying. Shit.

“Jenna, baby…”

“Your house was lit on fire while you were sl-eeping.” My breath hitched, and I was full-out sobbing.

He shoved his stool back, making it screech across the floor and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his arounds around me.

He held me tight.

Oh my God. The feelings that churned up in me. What could be. What wouldn’t be. I was falling apart.

“You could’ve died,” I sobbed into his chest and put my arms around him. He felt so good. He smelled good. Campfire and meat and Rider. He was so strong, enveloping me in his arms.

God, the feeling right there. Crying in someone’s arms. I’d never had this, not since I was a little girl and scraped my knee trying to ride that first time without my training wheels, Dad lifting me up, comforting me, and then Mom barking at him, warning him not to coddle me.

Rider squeezed. “Just a coupla scratches.”

“Your house burnt down.”

“It’s insured, baby. And it doesn’t matter. No one got badly hurt. It was a flop house.” He ran his fingers through my hair and kissed my temple.

“You guys saved Ella from Jay abducting her?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” I looked up at him.

“We don’t know 100% but think that was his plan. It was an ambush. He was blackmailing her to try to ambush us, but we think he was gonna abduct her. He had rope and shit in his trunk that he bought on the way to meet her.” His eyes were so gentle.

Eek.

“And your brother’s dog got h-hurt?” I was blubbering.

“He’s okay. Heard he’s sleepin’ with Ella’s little brother. Dad said the little guy is pulling Chakotay around the place in a wagon. He’s getting spoiled.”

“And… and…”

“Baby… it’s all gonna be okay.” He rocked me slightly back and forth.

“You cooked me food.”

He leaned back without letting go of me and looked down at me like I was crazy.

“You cooked me food and I’ve been a total bitch to you. I told you to fuck off and die and you could’ve died!”

“I’m breathin’.”

“You could’ve! You even talked to my M-mom, so I wouldn’t have to and bought me a day and she was totally a c-word to you.”

A big gorgeous smile spread across his face.

“Not gonna starve ya. Even if you’re being a bitch. And baby, I kinda dig it. Told ya that already. As for your ma? Well, I can relate.”

I buried my face into his throat.

“I don’t cry in front of guys,” I informed him.

“Okay, gorgeous,” he chuckled and squeezed me some more. “You wanna eat? Food’s gonna get cold. I’ll eat it cold if you’d rather just cry it out.”

I pulled myself together, pulling away, because it felt just too good being wrapped up in him like that. “No, you worked hard while I just sat there pouting. It’d be a crime to let it go cold.” I pulled away, sat down, and used the napkin he’d put there and wiped my eyes.

And then, despite the broken breaths I was trying to beat back, I ate every single bite on my plate, partly because it was really delicious, and partly because it meant I didn’t have to look at him with my puffy red eyes.

While I ate my feelings, I was chastising myself for breaking Jenna Murdoch Rule #1 and having cried in front of a guy again.

But, where Michael laughed at me and walked away while there were tears in my eyes, Rider held me and comforted me. And I was having a really hard time processing it. It felt like there was a fist around my throat, squeezing just enough to make it uncomfortable.

He was up from his stool and at the sink before me.

“I’ll wash up. You cooked. It’s only fair,” I said, and he looked at me with surprise.

“That was really good. Thank you. I can’t believe how tender those steaks were after being frozen just hours ago.”

“Yeah, Dad’ll be miffed I ate the last of his stash. That’s all right, though. He’ll come bag another soon.”

I gawked at him.

He lifted the empty beer bottles from the table and tossed them into a recycling bin beside the garbage bin.

“Bag another?”

He turned to look at me.

“What kind of meat was that, Rider?” I asked, my stomach flip-flopping.

His mouth opened as a look of uncertainty spread across his face.

“Venison,” he said.

“Venison? As in…no.”

He cracked a half a smile, but sucked in breath.

“Deer?” I asked.

He stared at me.

“You fed me a deer? Like… like Bambi?”

“Ah fuck,” he rolled his eyes on his exhale, “Why am I not surprised?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.

“Babe. It’s meat. You liked it. Fuckin’ Disney.”

“You lied to me. It was a deer!”

“It was steak, Jenna. It just happened to be a venison steak.”

“I’m gonna puke.” I pushed past him and ran to the bathroom and stood there over the sink.

I stood there. And breathed. And shook my head. And waited.

I wasn’t gonna puke. Nothing was coming up. I conjured Bambi up in my mind all prancy and frolicky with fluffy little Thumper.

Still nothing was gonna come up.

I was thinking maybe I should make myself barf, so I could get it out of my stomach. No. I hated puking.

I looked at my expression in the mirror. I was still all puffy-eyed.

I couldn’t believe I cried in front of him!  Hugged him and thanked him for dinner when he was feeding me Bambi. After having me kidnapped, chained to a bed, and having sex with me in my sleep even after telling me I sucked in bed.

I stormed out and went back to the kitchen. He wasn’t there.

I started washing dishes. Angrily.

I felt him behind me. He had my ponytail in his grip, his mouth went to my neck. I winced and shook him off.

“I take it our cease-fire has ended?” He ran his hand up and down my back.

“You’re damn right. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that it wasn’t steak!” I faced him.

“It was steak.”

“Not beef steak!”

“So, it’s okay to eat a cow, not a deer. Ah. All right. I’ll remember that.”

I glared at him. He rolled his eyes at me.

“It’s actually not okay to eat anything that’s cute. If I think about Norman from City Slickers, I go off beef for months. I can’t think of them as animals. I have to think of it as groceries. I think about Finding Nemo or Finding Dory and I can’t even eat sushi. And I love sushi! And you just made me think of Bambi. After I ate him!”

“You can’t think of venison as groceries?”

“Not right now I can’t, because you didn’t present it the right way!”

He looked like he was dizzy from my words.

“You do realize that it doesn’t come from a grocery store. It comes from an animal.”

“Shhhhhhhut uppp.” I slapped his shoulder. “If I think about where it comes from, I can’t eat it.”             

“You’re funny, baby. And you’re an elitist, too. Only eating ugly animals. I feel bad for those poor fuckin’ duck-billed platypuses.”

“No!” I pointed a sudsy fork at him. “Don’t even try to make me laugh. I’m serious! Away from me. I’m so mad I could throw something at you! Go. Let me wash up in peace.”

He backed away, shaking his head. “Whatever.” But, he was smiling.

I washed up in peace. Sort of. He didn’t bug me, but I made a racket. I was pissed. But I had peace, in a way, because I wasn’t under his intense gaze.

When I was done, I looked over my shoulder and saw he was asleep on one of the couches, a fire crackling away in the fireplace. Despite the racket I’d made.

I stood there and looked at him a minute. He looked pooped. And he looked good.

All the driving back and forth. Up half of last night helping Ella. Getting woken because his place was on fire. Driving back here and fighting with me after spending what was probably several hours at a hospital. Cooking dinner for me. Making a fire. Guilt washed over me.

I found a blanket in the bunkbed bedroom closet. I put it on him, that fist feeling tighter around my throat. I checked to make sure all the doors were locked, which they were, and then I went to bed.

***

I woke up to him climbing in with me. In the dark. He spooned me.

“Hey,” he whispered into the back of my neck, gathering my hair and lifting it out of the way. He kissed the back of my neck, and I shivered.

I blinked in the dark a couple times.

“Rider, don’t.”

“Freezin’ in here. I need your body heat.” He kissed me again and wrapped both arms around me.

His fingers wove together with mine near my hip and that made me blink a couple more times. My ear was on his bicep.

I closed my eyes and snuggled in and dozed back off.

***

I woke up and thought he was gone, but then my hand moved around and landed on his arm. He was here. He’d just rolled away.

I rolled into him and spooned him and put my cheek against his bare back, then fell back to sleep.

***

I woke up at what felt like the crack of dawn. Alone. My phone’s text alert was going off. From far away.

I dashed out to the living area and saw him standing there, bare chested, in just a pair of track pants, looking at my phone sitting on the coffee table, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

I picked it up. He grabbed it from my hand and pointed at me.

“Gimme my phone,” I hissed.

He handed it to me and pointed. “Be good.”

I slapped his pointy finger. “Don’t point at me.”

His eyes narrowed, and he slapped my butt. “Don’t hit. I hit back, remember?”

My butt was stinging. I backed away from him and read the text on my screen.

A text from Daniel Sotheby.

“Sorry to text so early, but wanted to ask if you wanted to meet for breakfast today before work. What do you think?”

I put the phone down and walked to the kitchen to put the coffee on. The clock on the stove told me it wasn’t that early; it was almost 9:00.

Rider was standing there, leaning against the counter. I could feel his eyes on my back.

“Not gonna text back?”

“I can’t exactly text him to make a date if I’m not there, can I?” I retorted huffily.

I started washing yesterday’s coffee out of the pot.

He pressed up against my back full-body. I locked tight.

“You’re not making a date with him for when you’re back, either.” He moved my hair all to one side and massaged my neck and then kissed it.

My eyes widened.

“Oh. Aren’t I?” I asked, busily cleaning the pot, trying (and failing) to ignore the goosebumps.

His teeth sank into where my throat met my shoulder. I hissed.

“Quit biting me!” I had an ugly hickey on my throat and several sets of bite marks from him. Like he was part vampire or something.

He let go of me. “You’d better not.”

I spun around.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll find him.” He moved forward, pinning me against the counter. “And I’ll let him know you’re not available. With a strong message, if need be.” He put both hands on the counter’s edge by my sides. Caging me in.

I rolled my eyes. “Since when am I not available?”

“Since here and now. Right now. Let’s discuss it. You and me.” He took a step back, folding his arms across his chest.

“What you and me?” I snapped.

“The you ‘n me you wanted,” he said. And he looked like he was serious.

I stared, my expression cold. “You don’t want monogamy and monotony, Rider.”

“What if I do want monogamy. What if you’re showin’ me it’ll be anything but monotony?”

I glared at him. “What if I don’t want it?”

“Because you saw some bullshit video? It was just a game and it was before we met.”

“Okay, how ‘bout this?” I said, dumping coffee into the filter and hitting the buttons to make it start. “Imagine I was the girl in that video. Would you want anything to do with me? Even if it was from before we met? If you saw that, or even saw a tame version of a sex video of me with a guy, would you want a relationship with me?”

His expression dropped. His eyes worked over my face. And then his shoulders dropped a little. Not a lot, but enough that I noticed.

And I immediately wanted to take it back. Against all logic. Because it was obvious right there and then that he wouldn’t. Not ever.

“Oh, and I’m the hypocrite?” I challenged.

He moistened his lips. “So, you can’t let that go? Even if it had nothing to do with you, because I hadn’t laid eyes on you yet, and was just a game? What shoulda been a harmless game while I was unattached and wasted? I wore a condom. Never kissed her. And she wanted it. Got tested afterwards, too, to make sure. But seriously, if that’s all you can think of when you look at me? Then maybe I’m kiddin’ myself here.”

My chest started to burn.

“Is that all you think of when you look at me, Jenna?”

I stared. 

He stared back.

This was it.

Showdown.

His burner phone started to ring a loud, shrill, annoying ring.

“Better go answer that. It might be an emergency,” I said softly, grateful, strangely, for the interruption.

He took a big breath and turned around and moved away.

I felt my shoulders slump. I closed my eyes.

He said Hello. And then he asked, What? And the what was said with alarm. He held the phone a long time. I watched from the kitchen and saw his expression drop, his eyes close, and his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Where’s Joelle?” he whispered. “Brady still with her? Right. Be there in a bit.”

He put the phone down and took a couple of big breaths. So big his shoulders moved up and down with his breaths.

Dread spiked in my belly.

“We gotta go,” he said, moving toward the bedrooms. And then, he abruptly turned and headed back to the table, looking frazzled. He grabbed the phone and was dialing. “Spence. Call me back.” He was dialing again. “Deacon? Where the fuck are you? Call me.” More dialing. “Dad? Call me. Someone call me. Fuck.”

I followed.

“What’s wrong?” It wasn’t good, whatever it was. 

He stopped in the doorway of the bedroom and then I watched him take a big breath and then his fist struck the wood paneling with unleashed rage.

I jumped back.

He slammed into it again and again and again.

I backed up more.

His eyes cut to me. I was just standing there. Frozen. Scared.

“The Jackals got Jet,” he told me.

I covered my mouth with both hands, eyes wide.

“Edge’s old lady. They left her in front of the gates to our clubhouse.” He braced himself on the doorframe with both palms. His eyes aimed at his feet.

“Left… her?”

“Her body.”

I felt my knees give way. I went right down on those knees to the rug.

“They raped her, they wrote our names on her body. And they left her fuckin’ dead on the ground at our gates. Her throat was purple.”

His hand was bleeding. The wood of the hallway had multiple splits and a big hole in it.

“You have to let me protect you.” He dropped to his knees in front of me and grabbed my shoulders. He was squeezing too hard. “You have to let me.”

I nodded a little.

“We gotta go. I want to know my sister’s safe. It’s you and her.”

“Me and her?”

“Scoot doesn’t have a woman. They got Edge’s woman. Lick’s dead but Jojo isn’t, though they almost took her out. They called off their hounds on Ella, but even still. D won’t fall down on the job of keepin’ her safe. And there’s you. Because of me. I won’t let them get you.”

I stared, emotion clogging my chest, my throat, my brain.

“I’m sorry. I’m fuckin’ sorry this shit is your problem, but baby, let me protect you. Please.” He put his hand around the back of my neck and rubbed his thumb up and down my throat, staring at it.

I nodded.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“You have to clean that.” I grabbed his hand. “You’ve probably got splinters.”

He kissed my forehead and held my head there. Tears burned in my eyes. I wouldn’t let them fall. If I did, they might never stop.

He let me go and then moved into the bathroom and I heard the water running.

I quickly tidied and got my dirty clothes that I’d worn when we got here. I stayed in yesterday’s sweat pants and hoodie and put on a fresh pair of borrowed socks and my Converse.  I grabbed a ponytail holder and two to-go mugs and filled them with fresh coffee. He was outside, talking on the phone. I popped my head out.

“One sec,” he said into the phone, and his eyes came to me.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Black. Thanks, gorgeous.” His attention went back to his phone conversation. “Yeah Dad,” he said, and I went back inside, finished up the coffees and turned everything off. I did a walk-through, turning lights off and met him at the Charger with my purse and my laundry bundle.

When I got in, it was already running, the heat on. It was extra chilly outside.

He moved back inside the house and I waited. And that was when my hands started to shake. I’d kept busy and focused between that scene in the hallway and now. And now, my brain had a chance to let the fear set in. My hands shook hard. My whole body was trembling. He came back out with a Duffle bag and locked up.

“There was another death,” he said as we backed out.

“No,” I breathed. This was surreal.

I’d only minutely been exposed to death. Dad’s elderly aunt. A neighbor who passed. A couple of the people at Ella’s gran’s nursing home. And it’d always hit hard, but not like this. Not as a result of murder.

“Ben Costner. Jackal. Found in a dumpster back in Aberdeen.”

I frowned.

“They’re tryin’ to frame us. Costner was Kailey’s old man.”

I gave him a confused shake of my head.

“Kailey. The cunt in that video.”

I winced.

“He was a pawn. The Jackals are trying to take us down. This is war.”

“Where are we going now?”

“Pickin’ up Joelle from the house and you and her are getting locked down in the Sioux Falls clubhouse.”

I bugged my eyes out.

“Um, I have to do hair and make-up for a wedding this weekend, and…”

“Jenna, honest to God, the last fucking thing I need is to fight with you about this.”

I moistened my lips. “This is someone’s wedding. The biggest day of her life, Rider. She’s counting on me. I know what she wants. No one else knows, and if I could just…”

“No.”

“Ri---”

“NO!” He slammed his hand on his dash board and I jolted. His knuckles were already a mess from the wood paneling in the cabin. He’d wrapped them with gauze, but the gauze was all bloody.

I folded my arms across my chest and decided to give it a few hours. Let him calm down. People were dying. People were scared.

I was scared. Scared was an understatement.