For the first time in his life, Vengeance didn’t want this moment to end, but like all good things, it had to. He rode back toward the cemetery where he’d first met her, and turned off his engine.

Constance climbed off the back of his bike and removed the helmet. They were near a street light so he could see her in the dark, and her face was aglow, as if she was completely enthralled and happy. It was a far cry from how he had first seen her. She had looked sad, even if she hadn’t cried.

“That was like the coolest thing ever,” she said, giggling.

He couldn’t help but join her, smiling. Taking the helmet from her, he secured it to the bike and climbed off. She was so small compared to him. With the way she had been pressed up against him, he knew she had curves in all the right places, at least all the places that he loved.

“Don’t you think it’s sad that I think the biggest highlight of my life was being on that bike?”

“Not getting engaged?” he asked.

“You do pay attention.” Her smile seemed to widen, and she pressed a hand to his chest.

“I have no choice but to pay attention. When I’m with my club it could be the difference between life or death.”

She nodded. “And you do not want to die.”

“I’d like to live a bit longer.” He couldn’t resist reaching out and stroking her cheek, which was warm, yet soft to the touch.

“I loved my fiancé.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I did. I loved him so much, and getting married seemed like the right thing to do. I knew it was what my parents wanted, and it was what he wanted.”

“What did you want?”

She paused, frowning. “I don’t know.”

“Did you want to get married?” he asked.

Again, she shrugged. “I really don’t know. I just did what everyone expected of me, you know.”

“I do actually.” They stood still, both breathing a little heavily as they stared at each other. “Is that what you’ve done your whole life, what everyone else expected you to?”

She pulled away and smiled. “I enjoyed tonight, Vengeance. Thank you.”

“I’ll take your change of heart as a yes.” He watched as she tucked some hair behind her ear, her hand shaking. “When was the last time you did something for yourself?”

Constance looked at him, and then at the bike. “I just did.”

He frowned.

“My parents and my fiancé would have considered those death machines. I did what I wanted to do, not what I thought I should do. It was nice, and I had a lot of fun.”

There was that sparkle to her eyes again, and he loved it. He loved knowing that he was the one who had put it there.

“I’m glad I was able to give you a lot of fun.” He winked and watched as she blushed. “You blush as well. That’s good to know.”

“Shut up. I’m going to go now, and it was lovely to meet you.”

“Don’t think you won’t see me again. I know where to find you.” He pointed toward the cemetery. “Anytime you want a ride, give me a call.”

“I don’t know your number.”

“You saw my club, and our clubhouse has a phone. You ask for me, and I will be here as soon as I can.”

“You’d do that for me?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

What was it about this woman that was driving him crazy? His cock thickened, and he wanted to do nothing more than take her to a bed and fuck her senseless, and yet at the same time, he wanted to wait, to get to know her, to understand her.

This shit was just crazy.

“You’d be surprised what I’m willing to do for a pretty girl like you.”

“I’m not pretty.”

“I think that’s for me to say if you are, and for you to take it as a compliment.”

She chuckled. “See you around, Vengeance.”

He watched as she climbed into her car and drove off. Interesting, completely interesting.

* * *

Constance stepped back from her arrangement of flowers, and then retreated once more. They were supposed to be clustered together, and the thorns removed for the bride.

“So, the rumor mill is talking about you,” Julie, the owner, said, coming toward her.

“Really?”

“Yeah, rumor is, you were on a motorcycle last night with some hot biker dude.”

Julie was one of her mom’s friends, who had given her this job straight out of high school. Brando had told her that ladies loved flowers, that it was proper for her to get a feminine job, to be delicate, innocent. Right now she could really roll her eyes and mock the girl she had been for listening to that bullshit.

Yeah, she had loved him, a lot, but at times he had been overbearing, condescending, and made her feel less than what she was. And then when she’d question herself and why she was with him, he’d be sweet, gentle, and so very loving. Being alone had been her fear. Because she’d been so weak back then, afraid of even herself, of being alive in her own skin, she’d stayed with him.

Of course she wouldn’t dream of telling anyone how she’d felt. It was kind of amazing how often people seemed to change ... how she’d changed.

“It was nothing,” she finally said.

“It didn’t sound like nothing. You know your mother would worry about you.”

She gritted her teeth. It was easier to keep her thoughts and her anger to herself. No one wanted to know what she really thought, how she felt. Everyone just assumed that she wanted to be a good girl, and do exactly as her mother had said.

“I met someone, and he gave me a ride on his bike. I was perfectly safe. I was safe.”

“And if something would have happened?”

“Then it would have happened. My parents and Brando played their life safe, Julie, and look what happened to them. They still ended up dead, okay? I took a chance and I’m here trying to arrange flowers, and failing miserably. I know what I’m doing.” She didn’t have a clue.

From the moment she’d seen Vengeance at the cemetery, and he had sat with her, something had changed. He’d not looked at her as if she was some kind of crazy person for staring at her parents’ and fiancé’s headstones in the middle of the night. He had seen her, and she couldn’t recall the last time someone had looked at her in a way that made her feel noticed. He’d seen her for herself. It was crazy, she knew that and understood it, but there was no changing from what he had awoken.

“Maybe you should go to lunch, and just calm down.” Julie pulled her close and kissed her head.

Yeah, fresh air would do her good. She grabbed her bag, headed outside, and went across the street to the little coffee shop. After grabbing a cup of coffee, she took a seat at the table by the window, eating her lunch and staring at people outside. Some glanced her way, and gave her that sad smile that they seemed to think made everything okay.

Out in public, she kept to herself. Blowing out a breath, she stared at her food. She wanted that feeling again. The freedom of living, of basking in the glow of the slight danger from doing something that was completely naughty.

Pulling out her cell phone, she typed the Soldiers clubhouse into an Internet search and waited. Although she assumed she wouldn’t find anything, Constance was surprised when a number came up in the search results. Maybe she should have, but she didn’t even hesitate as she called it.

“Yeah?”

A moment of silence stretched on. Had she called the right number? Was this an actual direct line to a biker group? Surely they had to be kind of legitimate, right?

“Um, is this the Soldiers of Wrath Clubhouse?”

“Yeah. This is Weasel. Who the hell is this?”

Her heart thundered hard. “Can I speak to Vengeance?”

“Who is this?” His voice was hard, cold.

“Tell him it’s Constance.”

There was silence, and then in the distance she heard a shout. Glancing around the café, she couldn’t help but smile. Julie, everyone around her, they all expected something specific from her. A routine. Her mother had told her she had to uphold the family name, and with that, it meant not doing anything stupid or rebellious. She had to think about more than herself.

They were gone. She could think of herself now. She could be alive and free, trying to live for herself, and not the idea of what someone else wanted.

“Hello, sweetness,” Vengeance said. “What can I do for you?”

Hearing his voice had her body tightening, her heart racing. She glanced down, still smiling. “Does your offer for a ride still stand?” she asked.

“You want to go for another ride?”

“Yeah, I really do.”