Her Broken Biker: Devil Dogs Mc, #2 1pt12

HER BROKEN BIKER Devil Dogs MC #2 by

K. R. Max

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. http://krmaxromance.com Cover design by KR Max. Author's Note: This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Her Broken Biker

Star

I stare through the windshield, peering through the rain lashing the glass as the asphalt rolls away under my car’s wheels. I should be so happy right now, in spite of the weather. I should be rocking out to the radio, singing along to one of my favorite songs, as I head home in triumph. I just graduated top of my class, with an MBA and a grade point average which has seen me fending off job offers for months. I don’t need job offers, of course. There’s a desk waiting for me at Holland Inc, the family corporation. Mother and Father have made it very clear they expect me to use that desk. I sigh. I don’t want that desk. I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to work at the family firm. I don’t want any of it. I know I’m being incredibly spoilt and ungrateful. I’m lucky to have a job waiting for me. A lot of my classmates don’t. Nor do they all have wealthy families who paid for their tuition upfront, eliminating the worry of lifelong student debt. “I’m really, really lucky,” I tell myself. Maybe if I say it out loud, I’ll actually believe it. Or not. The truth is, I don’t want to work for a big corporation. There’s a reason I specialized in small business startups and wrote an entire thesis on bootstrapping. Not that my parents know that. They’d kill me. Not literally.

I think. The song ends and I immediately kick myself for wasting a great song feeling sorry for myself. The next one isn’t as high on my favorites list, but I rock out to it anyway. I need to find the positives here. After all, I bought myself another month by road tripping home instead of taking a flight and visiting friends on the way. I told my parents it was because I was working on some ideas for improvements to the firm. They were all over that. Totally encouraging, in that way parents can only be when they have no intention of implementing any of your suggestions. What can I say? I know my parents. My stomach snarls and I roll my eyes. Seems like I’m hungry all the time lately, but I’m well aware I’m just eating my feelings. Mother will be all over the extra pounds I’ve gained. Might as well enjoy my freedom while it lasts. Ahead I spot the bright lights and cheerful facade of a small diner, just visible through the rain, and pull into the parking lot, parking as close to the door as possible. Flipping my hood over my head, I manage to get inside without getting completely soaked, and scan the booths to find a free one. Instead of focusing on where to sit, though, I find my eyes clashing with a dark, intense gaze on the other side of the room. I suck in a breath and blink. Deep, dark eyes that suck me in and send tingling threads of…something trickling through me, curling deep in my belly and dampening my panties. I don’t know what’s happening. I’ve never felt like this, and certainly never just from looking at a guy. I need to break this connection, this strange, intense connection that has liquid need sliding in my belly, but I can’t look away. Not until the corner of his mouth lifts and he nods at me, like we know each other. I swallow and drag my gaze from his, feeling my face flame with embarrassment. I need to find somewhere to sit, but instead I find myself checking him out. And man, is there a lot to check out. He’s sitting down, lounging in a booth, but that doesn’t hide his massive shoulders, or the tattoos peeking out the neckline of his t-shirt. A t-shirt which strains to cover his pecs, beautifully framed by a battered black leather jacket. I can’t see any lower, the rest of him hidden by the table, and then I realize I’m staring in the general

direction of his crotch. Like a total idiot, instead of looking away, I look at his face, hoping like hell he hasn’t noticed. Ha. Of course he fucking noticed. He raises an eyebrow at me and I feel my face flame hotter in horror and humiliation. I clench my teeth and force myself to look away. There’s a free booth on the other side of the room, but as I start to move in that direction, a couple sits down at it. They must have walked right be my while I was ogling Buff, Dark and Dangerous. The place is a lot busier than I envisaged a roadside diner would be at this time of day. The only almost free spot is a booth with a teenager girl working on what looks like homework. Right next to Mr. Hottie’s booth. Of course it is. For a moment I consider turning around and walking right out again, but then my stomach howls, to the point where the two nearest tables all turn and look at me. Yeah, okay. I came in here for a reason. I really need to eat. I head towards the booth. I’ll just… not look at the guy who’ll be sitting right behind me. I can do this. “Is this seat taken?” I ask the girl, and she looks up, resignation crossing her features. “Oh, sure. Let me clear up my stuff.” “Oh, no, it’s fine. I don’t take up that much room,” I tell her, with a smile. “I’m Star.” “Ella,” she says, shaking my hand, then going back to her assignment. You might be wondering why my parents, scions of two of the wealthiest families in the country, leaders of a Fortune 500 corporation, called their

daughter Star. Well, they didn’t. They actually called me Stella. I hate it. My friend Flick laughed the first time we met, when I introduced myself after a particularly grueling seminar. “They got it almost right,” she told me. “You are stellar. A total star. They were just one letter out.” The name stuck. Which reminds me, I’m going to have to unstick it before I get home. My parents will have a collective heart attack if they hear my hippy-ish nickname. My food arrives and I dig in. It’s delicious and I’m almost done when Ella puts her pen down. “How can I fit more tables in here?” I look around the space. “If you move the condiments station to that corner, you could probably reconfigure the floor to fit another… three tables? Would that be enough?” I look back at her to find her staring at me, mouth open, and yet again, I feel my cheeks warm. “I’m sorry. It’s your assignment. I should leave you to it.” “Oh no, I appreciate it! I just didn’t expect anyone to reply!” She scribbles on a piece of paper holding a roughly sketched layout of the interior of the diner. “I told Dad I could make the place ten percent more efficient, and he told me to draw up a plan. Business plans are hard.” I grin at her. Evidently she’s not a customer. She must be the owner’s daughter. “Tell me about it. I just graduated with an MBA and I still find business plans hard.” Her eyes widen to the size of sugar bowls. “Seriously? Okay, so I’m thinking I can move things around here, but I’m not sure it’s going to work. What do you think?” We sit and pore over her plan and the potential new layout. I’m pretty impressed. Apparently she’s fifteen years old, but she’s already got a solid grasp of business principles. “What about if I put this table here?” she asks.

I grimace, glad of my minor in architecture. “You need a minimum distance from those pipes in order to comply with fire regulations. I think that’s gonna be too close.” “Darn,” she mutters. “How about…” A deep voice rumbles around me, vibrating over my skin like a caress, as a huge, muscled arm reaches past me and picks up the pencil, making quick, clean strokes across the paper. I turn to see the gorgeous stranger from earlier leaning over my shoulder, but he’s focused on Ella’s layout. I can see a little more of the tattoos from this close, elaborate tribal designs spiking across his skin. His scent envelops me and I draw it into my lungs, a heady combination of sweat, musk, leather, and the clean, fresh bite of the open air. “Oh my God, that’s genius!” Ella exclaims, and I whip my attention back to the table, only to find the man smirking at me. He totally caught me checking him out. Again. Dear God. When will this humiliation end? “That totally improves the flow,” says Ella. “What do you think, Star?” I blink at her, then drag in a breath and force myself to focus on his adjustments to the layout diagram in front of her. My eyebrows rise. He’s moved the cakes counter to the far corner. Ella’s right. It’s inspired. “I think that’s perfect,” I tell her. “Then anyone wanting to just grab a cupcake will be out of the way of the waitstaff going to and fro from the kitchen.” She beams at me, then over my shoulder. “Thanks! Hey, dad, check this out!” She grabs a man in his forties who’s just walking past and he grins down at her, pride written into every line on his face. “That’s awesome, honey, but you know you’re not supposed to bother the customers with this stuff, right?” “Oh, I offered,” I reassure him. “So did I,” says the Manly Mountain behind me. His voice curls around my

pussy, causing a rush of heat and moisture to my panties, and I barely suppress a shiver. “Well, that’s okay then. Can I offer you guys dessert? On the house?” My phone buzzes and I hold up a finger. “Hold that thought.” I pull my phone out and just about manage to contain a wince. I look up at him. “I’m afraid I need to make a call first.” “No worries.” He nods, then peers out the window at the driving rain. “Use the office in back, if you like, save you from getting wet. Chocolate fudge cake? With warm fudge sauce?” “Yes,” I blurt out, before I can even think about whether or not that’s a good idea. I know it isn’t. Mother is going to give me hell when she sees how much weight I’ve gained over the last year. Then she’s going to put me on an insanely strict diet, completely ignoring the fact that I’ve always been fuller figured than her, even as a kid. This will probably be the last chocolate fudge cake I ever get. “That would be lovely.” I head for the office and call her back. “Hi Mother.” “I was just calling to see where you were. I estimate you should arrive here in another three days.” Translation: You will be here in three days, or there will be hell to pay. Except we already had this conversation and I’m damned if I’m giving in that easily. “I’m staying with friends on the way, Mother? I’ll be home in a month.” There’s the briefest of pauses. “Of course. Have you left yet?” “Yes, Mother. I just stopped for lunch. I’ll be on my way again soon.” “Oh? What did you have?” I hesitate a fraction of a second too long before responding. “A salad.”

We both know it’s a lie. She sniffs. “I hope you didn’t drown it in dressing and croutons. You know those things don’t do you any favors at all. You need to be more disciplined in your food choices, Stella. It’s not hard. I’ve already drawn up a diet plan for you. You won’t have to worry about making bad food choices here.” Yeah, or any choices at all. My parents have my life already mapped out for me. ‘The optimal route,’ my father once called it. I was thirteen. I grit my teeth. “Thank you, Mother.” “You’re welcome,” she says, and hangs up. I lean back against the wall of the office, fighting back tears. I don’t want the fudge cake anymore. I feel sick after the lovely lunch I had. All the happiness and camaraderie I felt just a few minutes ago is gone, hidden in the shadow of my parents and the rest of my life. It’s not just about food. That’s just a symptom of the wider problem. I’ve got a month of freedom left, but I don’t know how I’m going to enjoy it with the spectre of my parents’ expectations hanging over me. Once I get home, it’ll be their way, all the way. There’s no point in arguing with them. My parents’ rules are about as flexible as the IRS. I can’t actually the last time I made a choice for myself, except in regards to food. Eating the ‘wrong’ thing has been my one avenue of rebellion over the last few years, and now I’m going to lose that too. I shake my head and swallow back the tears. This is ridiculous. There’s no point in drowning in self-pity. I’ve got another month of freedom. I’m going to head out there, enjoy my damn fudge cake, and then get back on the road. Because I’m not about to turn down what promises to be an awesome dessert, but I also need to keep moving forwards. I can’t hide from my future. My life is with the family firm. I owe my parents for paying my tuition, and letting me study across the country. And after my brother turned his back so thoroughly on the family, I can’t let them down too.

I open the door and freeze. He of the deep voice and midnight eyes is just a few feet away, staring at me, the door to the bathroom closing behind him. “You okay?” he asks, in that voice which makes my pussy ache. I nod. He raises an eyebrow and takes a step forward. “You sure? You look a little… pale.” I can’t help but smile, just a little. He doesn’t even know me, but he’s concerned. And observant. “Just talked to my mother. It’s...she’s...uh…” I don’t want to bouth my family, but I don’t want to lie either. I try not to tell lies. He moves closer, lifts a hand to brush away a lock of hair from my eyes, his fingertips skimming over my skin. Electricity dances through me at the , sparking bright in my blood. “Family can be tough,” he says, stroking his thumb over my cheek. I suddenly realize I’m angling my face into the . I should pull away, I know I should, but I can’t. The back and forth of his thumb sends tiny shockwaves through me, making my skin pull tight across my body. “Uh-huh,” I manage. I sway towards him and he steps into me, moving me backwards into the office. I’m vaguely aware of the door closing behind him but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the sudden hardness of the wall at my back, and the heat of his body warming my breasts. He‘s so close I can almost touch him. Almost. “You look like you need to forget,” he says, his voice even deeper now. My air comes short as I stare up at him. My legs are trembling, my skin too tight, too sensitive, my belly a mass of liquid desire, knotting up tight around my pussy. “Yes,” I breathe.

I’ve been this close to a guy before, but I’ve never felt like this about it. I bite my lip, staring at his mouth, his lips so full and long and kissable. Then I raise a hand to his chest, gasping at the heat and hardness I find there, muscle carved from granite burning my fingers through his t-shirt. He groans and closes the gap between us, pressing me against the wall, and I whimper, trapped between his hard body and the hard wall, gasping for air. My hand slides over his torso, learning every ridge and valley as I reach for his neck, sliding my hand around the thick column of his throat to pull his face down to mine. His mouth lands on mine as his hands grip my hips, then curve down over my ass. His tongue slides between my lips and I moan, then shriek as he lifts me against him, fitting his erection against my center. My head falls back against the wall, but he follows me, lips and tongue demanding my surrender. I’m powerless to resist, as pleasure radiates out from my pussy and my mouth. And then his hand covers my breast, squeezing my nipple, already painfully hard. I whimper and writhe against him, my legs tightening around his waist, riding a razor fine line between pleasure and pain, my hips flexing as he moves against me. Sensation spirals through me. His mouth leaves mine to burn a trail of hot, wet kisses down the side of my throat as he continues to mold my breast and slide that huge cock against my clit. I clutch at his shoulders, thrusting my other hand into his hair, clinging to him as his mouth turns my blood to fire. “Please, please,” I beg, gasping for air, then moan in frustration as he lifts his head. “You want me to stop?” he asks, his body suddenly unnaturally still. What? Dear God, no... “No,” I sob. “I want more. Please, give me more.” His hand slides around the back of my neck, fisting in my hair, tugging my head back and making me moan again. “As you wish.” He nips at the delicate skin of my throat, making me whimper, and then covers

my mouth once more with his own. “Can’t have you telling the whole damn diner what we’re doing in here,” he says against my lips. Before I can reply, before I can even think through what he’s saying, his mouth covers mine once more. He squeezes my breast and electricity races through me. Then he eases a hand between us, and my jeans loosen around my waist. And then his thick, strong finger dips between my panties to slide over my clit and I scream into his mouth. The pressure is just right, the friction from his callused skin almost unbearable as I twist in his arms, shrieking into his mouth with every touch. He pushes further in, a finger sliding right inside my pulsing channel, his thumb pressing down on my clit, and every muscle in my body tenses as I shatter, my screams caught and swallowed by his lips and tongue as I writhe against him, shaking as my orgasm tears me apart. *** Trap

I see the moment the hottest woman I’ve ever met realizes she just came against a wall in the arms of a total stranger. The shutters come down over her eyes and her body, boneless from pleasure just a moment before, tenses up. Stepping back is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’m rock hard and ready to sink into her soft curves, but she’s no longer on board with this and I’ve never forced a woman in my life. I’ve never had to. I don’t talk much, but there’s a lot of girls out there who like that. I guess this one did, too, until she didn’t, and that’s my cue to step back. I take my time about letting her down, giving her a chance to get herself together. I pull the zipper up on her fly myself, though. Can’t deny myself that intimate touch, even though I know it’s wrong. Her breath hitches in my ear and I close my eyes, fighting the urge to pull it down again, rip her jeans off and take her, hard and fast until she doesn’t her own name, but she’s screaming mine. My cock swells painfully and I grimace as I step back. Her eyes drop to my groin, then whip away, and I struggle not to smile. Yeah, I’m packing down there, and the way she’s blushing, I think she wants to know more, but she’s a

good girl and she’s fighting herself. It’s pretty clear the good girl is winning. She opens the door, then turns around, opening her mouth to say something, and my phone rings. For a moment, we stand there staring at each other, while the theme tune to Bad Boyz echoes around the room. I cave first, yanking my phone out of my pocket. “What?” I snap. I look up to ask her to wait, but she’s already gone. I’ve known the girl for half an hour, tops, and yet the sense of loss is a punch to my gut. “What is it?” “Dude, you need to get laid.” I grind my teeth and just about manage not to throw my phone at the wall. “Thanks, Dino. I’ll bear that in mind. Why are you calling me?” If he’s quick, I might be able to catch her before she leaves. It’s gonna take her more than a minute to pay her check and get back to her car, right? And then I could...well, I could at least give her my number. The voice in the back of my mind that tells me uncomfortable truths just laughs at me. “It’s… it’s the Shark Asylum.” Dino’s voice trembles and I blink, then force myself to focus. The Shark Asylum are bad news. They’ve been building a rep down south of us, and they’ve got a bad name for muscling in on other clubs’ territory, and then either taking them over or slaughtering the whole club. They’ve been casting eyes our way for a while, but since we took out the Skull Kings, or rather Wolf’s badass bitch of an old lady did, it seems like they changed their minds. They’ve been quiet for a while and we thought they’d decided to leave us alone for good. “What about them?” I step out of the office and catch a glimpse of chestnut brown hair. Relief opens inside my chest like a throttle on the freeway. She’s still here. “I’ve got intel, man. You know how someone’s been fucking with our

shipments?” “Yeah, I know.” Of course I fucking know. Wolf came to me a couple weeks back, showed me some sheets that seem to prove I’ve been messing with the manifests. He knows fucking well I haven’t. We’ve been running together since we were teens. Went to war together in Iraq and Afghanistan. Ain’t no one knows me better than Wolf. Problem is, I told him I’d figure it out, and I haven’t been able to. Eventually someone else in the club is going to find out, and they’re gonna want an explanation. Which sucks, because I don’t have one. “What have you got?” “Not over the phone,” he hisses, like he’s trying to stay quiet. “Where are you?” “In the fucking woods, man.” He names a location not far from the diner, which is surprising but handy. “I think they might have spotted me.” “Shit.” This could be very bad. The Shark Asylum isn’t kind to spies. As far as I can gather, they’re not kind to anyone. Technically Dino’s still in our territory but if they’re on to him, they won’t care. “Yeah. I need… look, I’m sorry but, I need backup, man. Someone fast, and discreet, and big enough to make them think twice if they do see me. I… I need your help, man.” I’m about to ask why he hasn’t called Wolf, but I know why. Wolf’s the prez, and he works fucking hard, but these days he takes the occasional day off just to hang out with his girl, and that makes sense to me. Today is one of those days. Besides, Dino’s right. One man’s better. He’s not necessarily in any danger right now, but mobilizing the club this close to Shark Asylum territory is bound to go bad fast. “I’m on my way.” In one way, I’m actually pleased. Dino’s an immature little dick and I’ve had to call him on his bullshit a time or two. He’s one of the guys I’d have said would love to ‘find out’ I’ve been working against the club. I’m the logical choice for this kind of help but I’m impressed he’s man enough to it

it. Apart from being pussy enough to call me for backup, but I guess a guy has to know his limitations. I reach the door just in time to see Star pulling out of the lot. I don’t sigh. I’m a man, for fuck’s sake. I do let out a breath, but that’s what air does right? Goes into your body, goes out again. That thought sends my brain down an entirely different track and I roll my eyes. I’d have loved to spend a little more time with her, get to know her, find out what kind of noises she makes when I sink my cock into her wet heat, or suck her nipple into my mouth. I wince and adjust myself as my cock surges in my jeans. Time to forget Little Miss Starlight. We’re from two different worlds, if her late model Lexus sedan is anything to go by. It would never be anything more than a fling, at least not on her side. I’m still not sure what it would have been to me. A sense of loss tugs at my gut, but I gotta let it go and get on with my life. Which, right now, means ing my brother and digging his ass out of whatever trouble he’s got himself into this time.

It’s not far to where Dino told me he was hiding out, a little cabin set back from the highway. The ground outside is a little torn up but I only see Dino’s bike. Idiot didn’t even have the brains to hide it. I roll my eyes. If I get shot because this asshole’s a fucking moron, I will not be pleased. I pull out my phone and send him a text. Where r u The response comes back a few seconds later. In the woods. 100 yards west. I turn and head into the woods. It’s real quiet around here. No animal sounds or birdsong. Either Dino only just got here, or he’s scarier than I give him credit for. At least to small birds and animals. A small clearing opens up in front of me, but Dino isn’t alone. It takes me a

moment to recognize the scarred up asshole standing next to him. “Glass,” I snarl. The Asylum Shark’s prez is neither brittle nor smooth, but he cuts like a broken bottle, hence the nickname. “Hey, Trap. I hear you’re gonna do us a solid.” I raise an eyebrow. “The day I help the Sharks is the day I fucking die. Don’t worry, Dino. We’re gonna get out of this.” I’m too busy calculating angles and potential escape routes to realize what’s going on, until Dino cocks the pistol in his hand. “I’m afraid he’s right, Trap. You’re totally gonna help us out, and you’re gonna do it by dying.” I thought I was done getting shot at when I left the military. I was wrong. I really never thought I’d ever get shot at by one of my own. I was wrong about that too. *** Star

Okay, so grabbing my chocolate fudge cake to go and running out of there before Sexy Biker Man got off his call was a cowardly move, but it took all the strength I had to leave that office at all. If he hadn’t got that call, I probably would have let him take me on the goddamn desk. Or up against the wall. Or both. The memory of what I did let him do to me up against that wall has me blushing all over again. My pussy aches, desperate for more of what he gave me, and I grimace as the car fishtails on the wet road. It’s stopped raining, but I still need to be careful. I don’t want to get in a wreck. I’m glad I pulled over and ate my truly awesome dessert in the woods with the sun dappling my skin through the

leaves, clean, rain-washed air in my lungs. One more glorious memory to get me through the years of grey boredom ahead of me. Oh, eventually I’ll have the experience to get a job on my own, but I’ll have to leave the city, leave the East Coast altogether, to get away from my parents’ influence. Which sounds great, but I need to build up some experience and some money in the bank before I can strike out on my own. In the meantime, I really don’t want to explain to my parents that I crashed my car because I was mooning over a guy. I push the memories away but they won’t be denied. His hands, his mouth, his body, and the desperate, whimpering cries I made as he tongued my throat and slid his fingers in and out of my aching pussy. My nipples are hard, chafing against my bra, and I squirm in my seat. I ought to lock the memories in a box somewhere, no, I need to. I’ll be lucky to make it home in one piece at this rate. For just a moment, I allow myself to relive what it felt like to have that mass of hard, hot skin and muscle pressed up against me. The sheer desperation I felt as my insides slithered with desire, the rough scrape of his voice and his fingers on my skin. I take a deep breath, let it out, take another. I’m pretty sure that was the most fun I’m going to have for a very long time, and it’s going to have to last me. When I have enough money saved up to move out of my parents’ house, I’ll get myself a vibrator and really go to town, but for now my mind and my hand will have to suffice. When I get home, that is. I’m not about to get myself off while driving down the fucking highway. I wish. The road curves lazily and a group of bikers appears, cruising slow and easy, taking in the sights. Several of them look over at me, and I give them a bland smile and look away. Some of them have patches on their jackets, a shark snapping through chains under a steep-sided triangle, and none of them are wearing helmets. One of them stares at me so intently my skin crawls, and he smirks, like he can feel my discomfort. He makes a disgusting gesture with his tongue and I look away, then breathe a sigh of relief as the group disappears in my rear view.

Refocusing on the road in front of me, a flicker of movement off to the side catches my eye, and I slow down. I do not want to hit a deer out here, or a bear. I couldn’t live with myself, and I’m not sure I’d be able to drive afterwards, even if my car survived the impact, and then I’d have to deal with getting a tow, as well as my parents giving me shit for destroying my car— Holy shit. Something lumbers out of the trees. At first I think it’s a bear, and then I realize it’s a man. A big man, but still a man. He stumbles out onto the road in front of my car, turns to face me, and promptly collapses. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…” I slam on the brakes and jump out of the car. Rushing over to him, I gulp at the blood pooling on the asphalt. I kneel down beside him. “Sir? Sir, can you hear me?” He groans and rolls over, and I gasp. It’s the guy from the diner. With what looks like a bullet wound in his shoulder. “Oh shit,” I breathe. “Okay, think, Star. Right. Sir, I’m going to grab my phone. Call 911. Uh. Okay.” I stand up but his hand wraps around my ankle. “No hospitals,” he slurs. “Dino.” I frown down at him. I don’t what a dino is, but the rest was clear enough. “You need a hospital. I-I think you’ve been shot.” He opens his eyes. They’re glassy with pain, but clear. “No hospitals,” he grates, then slumps back onto the asphalt. “Okay. Um, can you get into my car?” My first aid is kind of rusty, but I’m pretty sure he’s not doing himself any favors lying in the road. No response. Great. He’s ed out.

I decide this is a good time to try and patch up the hole in his shoulder and grab the first aid kit from the car. Even if I can just slow down the bleeding, that would be something. I have no idea what I’m going to do after that, but one step at a time. Pushing his jacket aside, I swallow at the sight of the wound, blood pulsing over his chest, soaking into his t-shirt. “Sorry,” I mutter, as I cut his jacket and t-shirt away from the wound. Flick taught me a bit more than your standard first aid course, and has insisted on giving me quarterly refresher courses ever since. It’s handy having a medical student for a best friend. I work as fast as I can, cleaning, drying, applying gauze and bandages. I check the back of his shoulder and can’t see another wound there, which means the bullet is still inside. Flick has explained a few times why it’s better for it to be out, but I can only work with what I’ve got. Fine. Moving on. Next step: get him in the car. Right. I don’t usually feel the need to work out beyond a nice walk in the sunshine, or a swim off the beach, and my body reflects that attitude. Muscling this man mountain into my car, however, makes me wish I’d been a little more proactive about my fitness over the last few years. He weighs a ton, and by the time I get him in, I’m covered in blood. His blood. So is my car’s interior, but I can’t afford to care about that right now. I’ll just have to get it thoroughly valeted before I let my parents anywhere near it. I slump in the driver’s seat, shaking from the unaccustomed exercise, and probably adrenalin and a bunch of other things I don’t know the words for. What now? He said no hospitals and, well, I don’t want to get him in trouble. Okay, you know what? Fuck it. Dude’s been shot. He’s going to hospital. I ask Siri to find me the nearest hospital, then glare at the screen when she informs me

it’s sixty-eight miles away. Seriously? Fucking boondocks. What do I do now? I sneak a peek at him, spreadeagled across the back seat. He looks pale, and when I touch his face, his skin is clammy. He needs medical attention now. A thought occurs to me and I look back at the map. I adjust it slightly and heave a sigh of relief. Okay, it’s not ideal, but there is another option. And it’s not a hospital. I put my seatbelt on and put the car in drive. This guy is so going to owe me. *** Trap

Fuck. Everything hurts. Did I get run over by an elephant? I strain to open my eyes. I can vaguely hear voices. Female voices. A low, soothing cadence. Maybe I’m in Heaven. Do I deserve to go to Heaven? I try to think back, desperate for a clue. Nothing. My mind is a blank. Nothing in the memory banks at all. That’s weird. Although, maybe that means I am dead. Something in the back of my mind tells me that’s bad, that there’s something I need to do first, but as hard as I try, I can’t what it is, “C’mon, big guy. I know you’re close. Come back to us. Star’s worried about you.”

“I’m not worried. He’s fine. You said so yourself.” The first speaker makes a non-committal ‘mm-hmm’ sound. Even to me it sounds sarcastic. And who’s Star? Sounds like an angel’s name. And I’m warm, but not too warm. I’m liking my odds better right now. This has to be Heaven, or something close to it. I try to open my eyes, but it’s a lot more work than I thought it was going to be. Eventually, after what feels like a ridiculous amount of effort, I manage to crack an eyelid. Someone’s leaning over me. Pierced. Tattooed. Bright blue hair. They reach out a hand to touch my shoulder and suddenly my hand is around their wrist, twisting their arm around as they gasp with surprise. I sit up, swaying as the blood leaves my head, reaching out— “Stop!” I look round at the other person in the room and my brain stutters to a halt. It’s an angel. An actual, real-life angel. Chestnut brown hair, brilliant green eyes. Lips made for kissing. She looks familiar, but all I can really process is that she’s hot. Wait. Are angels supposed to be hot? I don’t that. Of course, there’s a whole lot I don’t right now and I’m willing to take some things on trust. Pain flowers on my wrist, the one holding the other person captive, making it impossible to maintain my grip, and I let them go, then reach out with my other hand. I don’t even know why I’m fighting, but I can’t seem to stop myself. A gentle touch on my arm has me turning to face a new threat, but then I freeze. “Relax,” says the angel. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Flick’s a friend. A doctor. She helped fix you up.” I frown at her, then at the other woman, currently grimacing as she works her shoulder. Shit. I attacked a doctor.

I didn’t mean to. Didn’t even know I could move that fast. Just...instinct, I guess. “Sorry,” I mutter. “S’alright,” she says, with a rueful smile. “It happens.” “It does?” says the angel, turning those brilliant eyes towards her friend. Damn. I want her looking at me. “Oh, sweetie. I’m an ER doc. We get all sorts of crazies, and none of them are having a great day to start with.” Angel huffs out a brief laugh, then turns her attention back to me. “I’m Ste— Star, by the way. How do you feel?” Star. That’s a pretty name. It suits her. I want to tell her that, but instead, I just squint. Am I supposed to be seeing two of her right now? “Fine.” The doc, Flick, snorts. “Right. Well, you look like you’ve been hit by a Mack truck, so maybe lay your fine ass back down again so I can check that wound. Like I was doing before you… woke up.” I lie down, a hell of a lot more relieved to do so than I’m willing to let on. “You think my ass is fine.” “Can’t really say,” she shoots back. “Haven’t seen much of it. The bullet wound’s in your shoulder.” A moment later it feels like she’s stuck a red hot poker through my shoulder and I jackknife up, swearing a blue streak. “Sorry,” she says, pulling her gloves off. She doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Just had to make sure the stitches were holding. Seems okay.” Damn. I see that little smile. That was her revenge for me grabbing her before. Guess now we’re even. “Great.” “So,” says Flick. “What now? I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that ER docs

have to report all bullet wounds to the cops.” “No!” She cocks her head. “Yeah, Star said you were anti-hospitals. I’m guessing that’s why. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t report this.” I stare at her, then shake my head. “I’m sorry, I—” I flinch as something soft and cool lands on my forehead. “Sorry.” I roll my eyes around. It’s my angel. Star. “S’okay. Go ahead.” She bites her lip, and my dick surges, the pain in my shoulder fading under a wave of lust. Damn, she’s got a biteable lip. I want to nibble on it, before sliding my tongue over it to taste the inside of her mouth… Fuck. I’m in a room with two women. I need to calm the old man down before it gets too damn obvious what’s going on in my pants. Very carefully, I push myself into a sitting position and look around. I’m on a table, my feet hanging off the end. The kitchen is neat and clean, with an island separating it from a cozy looking lounge area. “You have a nice place,” I say. “Thanks,” says Flick, the sadist doctor. “Still waiting on that reason.” I don’t have one, other than every fiber in my body is telling me I can’t go to a hospital, and I definitely can’t involve the cops. Judging by the look on her face, though, I’m going to have to do a whole lot better than that. “I don’t think it’s safe,” says Star. We both stare at her. “Why not?” asks the doc. “I scraped him off the highway with a bullet in his shoulder. Whoever did that had to be nearby, and they’ve got to know he needed medical attention. They’ll

be checking the hospitals.” Flick’s eyes narrow and her lips twist. Finally she gives the tiniest of sighs and pulls out a slim flashlight. “Look up.” I wince as she shines the light in my eyes and gives me orders. Look right, look left. Finally she switches it off. “You need to take it easy for at least a month. You don’t have a concussion, but you have lost a lot of blood and I don’t have transfusion facilities here. Is there anyone you want to call?” I try to think through the fog in my brain but it’s impenetrable. I shake my head. “Okay, well. Do you know where you left your vehicle? The address on your driver’s licence is out of state, so you must have some kind of transport. A motorbike, maybe?” I look down at my leather pants. It’s a safe bet, but… “I don’t .” “You don’t what you drive, or you don’t where you left it?” This is Star, a little line cutting between her eyes. Sharp as well as beautiful. She knows something’s up. “Neither,” I it. “I... I don’t what happened.” “Well—” She holds up a hand and looks at me. “What’s your name?” I frown at her. Couldn’t she ask me a question I can actually answer? Like, what color her eyes are? Or how I feel when she touches me? She stares right back at me and eventually, I cave. “I don’t that either.” “First letter’s a ‘T’,” says Flick, helpfully.

“Trap,” I say, then want to kick myself. Like anyone’s called Trap. “Interesting.” She grabs a wallet sitting on the side and hands it to me. I flip it open and check out the driver’s license. Tyrone Banks. Huh. I look up at her. “Do you have my phone? Maybe that’s got something in it.” “I didn’t find a phone,” says Star. “I’m sorry. I did look around but I couldn’t see it. You said Dino,” she adds. I stare at her. “What?” “When you… when I found you. You said ‘no hospitals’, and ‘Dino’. Is that a friend? A pet?” I consider both possibilities. Neither rings a bell. Finally I look up and shake my head. “I’m sorry. It’s all a blank up in there.” “It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. Losing your memory must be hard.” She eyes me up and down for a moment, then turns to Flick. “Can he stay in your guest house? Just until he re enough that he can call a friend.” The doc raises an eyebrow, then shrugs. “Sure, but he’s going to need someone to stay with him. Like I said, he lost a lot of blood.” “I’ll stay,” says Star, and the speed with which she says it makes my dick swell. Flick’s eyebrow climbs a little higher. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” She drags Star to the other side of the room and a low, intense conversation starts up. The doc’s obviously worried about her friend. I probably look like I just stepped off the set of Mad Max. Strange that I know who Mad Max is but my own name is just a random bunch of letters for all the meaning it holds for me. Still, I can see why Flick’s worried. No one in their right mind would voluntarily want to spend time alone with me, let alone someone as sweet and kissable as that curvy little angel.

I couldn’t see her body before, but now they’re a little further away I’m getting a solid view of the full package, and hot damn, what a package. They’re both on the short side, and curvy with it, but Star’s body puts mountain roads to shame. My own package is about to embarrass me. I look away and try to think of boring things. Like...calculus. Taxes. Penguins. Penguins? I’m weird. But I did just lose a lot of blood, and my memory. Maybe it’s normal to be weird after something like that? My head’s starting to hurt. Maybe I’m just dumb. “Look,” says Star, her voice rising enough for me to hear her, her tone tight. “You said he’s lost a lot of blood. That’ll make him slow. If he tries anything, I’ll kick him where it hurts and run. Okay?” Flick rolls her eyes, but can’t quite hide her smile. They come back over. Flick doesn’t look totally happy, but she just says, “Okay, then. Here’s the key.” Kick me where it hurts. Ha! If I don’t get control of my hard-on it’s gonna hurt a whole lot more. I can barely walk as they help me over to the guest house, tucked away about fifty yards behind the main house. I’m pretty sure we all know it’s because I’m sporting a rocket ship in my pants, but we all pretend it’s because I got shot. Less embarrassing all around that way. *** Four days later... Star

I am so tired. It took me a couple days to get used to sleeping in a new bed. It always does. All the excitement the day I arrived also probably had something to do with that. I figured I’d settle in eventually. Instead, I’ve spent the last fourteen nights, ever since I picked Trap up off the road, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling for hours on end. One thing I did decide was that I’m going to call my mystery biker Trap. It fell out of his mouth too easily to be wrong. The first two nights of sleeplessness, I can probably blame on adrenaline overload. Now... well, it’s getting harder to that he got shot. That he needs to heal. Now he’s mostly recovered and The first week, he mostly slept. The second week, he staggered from his room to the couch in the living room, and then back. I’ve been cooking for us both and visiting with Flick most days. Problem now is that he’s getting more mobile. He doesn’t talk much, but I keep looking up to find him looking at me with this weird expression on his face, like he can’t quite believe I’m real. That decision used up all my remaining brain cells, though. Today my brain is mush. I stumble into the kitchen and turn the coffee-maker on. God bless Flick for having all the essentials in here. Trap spent most of yesterday asleep, only waking when I took food into his room in the guest house, and I practically had to force the meds Flick prescribed down his throat every time. Today, I don’t know if I want him to be asleep or not. It’s easier to forget he’s here when he’s unconscious, and I’m well aware he needs to heal. On the other, rather more dangerous, hand, I want to spend time with him. I know this can’t last and...I’m being selfish. I want to talk to him. Get to know him. Biblically, sniggers a snarky little voice in the back of my mind, and I sigh. Yeah, much as I’d kind of like to lose my virginity to him, it’s not going to happen. He’s recovering from a major trauma, doesn’t have any memory of who he is, and I’m on borrowed time. Shit. That reminds me… I hurry back into my room and grab my phone. I’m supposed to be arriving back home tomorrow and it’s never going to happen. I can’t leave Trap yet. He still

needs someone around and Flick works at several clinics so she’s out almost all the time. It’s not fair to ask her to look after him when I’m the one who brought him here in the first place. Mother picks up on the third ring. “Where are you?” My stomach drops and I take a breath. “Not far from where I was the last time I called you, actually. I hit a deer and had to put my car in for repairs. It’s going to take a few days.” Yes, I just lied to my mother. Can you imagine the apocalypse shed rain down on me if I told her the truth? Nope. Nuh-uh. No way. There’s a moment’s silence while Mother considers how she can make this into something that’s my fault. “I suppose you were dawdling again. You know you shouldn’t drive at night. You should have already been safely at your hotel.” And there it is. I’d ire her skill in this area if she didn’t always use it to make me feel like a worthless piece of shit. “You’re right. I’ll do better next time.” There’s no point in fighting her on this. I’ll just end up looking like a cranky-ass teenager. “If there is a next time,” she sniffs. “I think it might be safer if you don’t drive at all once you finally get home. There won’t be any need when you’re working in the same building as your father. I’ll talk to him. You should hire a car. We can send for yours when it’s ready.” I sigh inwardly. I’m suddenly more determined than ever to make this interlude last as long as possible. “I’m actually staying with Fli— Felicity. One of the hospitals she works for is considering alternate suppliers for some of its instruments and I promised to talk to him. Apparently he prefers in person appointments.” This is a risk. Neither of my parents likes Flick, and they both despise nicknames, but nor would they would ever do anything to interfere with potential profits. Would they trust that I was best placed to handle this, though? ‘This’ being a totally fictitious business opportunity that I was going to have to pull out of thin air if they went for it.

“I thought, since I’ll be working in procurement and business sales, this would be the perfect opportunity to potentially further the firm’s interests. I may not be in the building yet, but I can still serve the company.” Another, longer, silence. Finally, she spoke. “I suppose you’re right. We will expect daily updates, though.” Of course. “He’s currently out of the office. I’m hoping to schedule the meeting for Friday, when he gets back,” I lie. Might as well double down. “I’ll update you when I have confirmation.” Which gives me a day or two to actually schedule the meeting. My parents will definitely check. Can you tell I’ve done this before? “Fine,” she says. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” Okay, so I only get one day. Whatever. It’s more than I had before this call. I must to talk to Flick this evening about scheduling a meeting with the Director of Procurement at Central Mercy Hospital. As usual, she hangs up without saying goodbye, and I put the phone down and pour myself some coffee. I’ve heard that some people actually like talking to their parents. At this point, I think it’s a myth. “You okay?” I turn around too fast, then gasp as hot coffee sloshes out of my mug and onto my hand. “Dammit.” I stick my hand under the faucet to cool my skin and do my best to assess Trap over my shoulder. “Sorry,” he rumbles, heading towards me. His color is better today, but I’m not sure he should be up, and I say so. He glowers at me. “If I spend one more minute in that bed, I’m going to go stir

fu—friggin’ crazy. There’s a perfectly good couch right here.” I turn away to hide my smile. Boredom is probably a good sign. “Would you like some coffee?” “Only if you’re not going to throw it all over yourself.” I jump. He’s right behind me. I glare at him over my shoulder. “I thought you were going to sit on the couch.” He shrugs. “Never said that. Here.” He tops off my coffee and hands it to me, then pours himself a mug. He’s favoring his shoulder, which makes sense. But generally he seems a lot better. “What would you like for breakfast?” I ask him. “Woman, stop clucking. I can make my own damn breakfast.” I take a step back, rejection a sour knot in my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I was just trying to help.” He takes a breath, lets it out. “I’m sorry, angel. I’m just not used to being fussed over. And I caught part of your conversation. It didn’t sound great.” I grimace. My mother’s...not the nicest person in the world, but I try not to spread that around. Mostly because I don’t want to be a victim. She’s my mother. I deal. Mostly. “It sounded like she doesn’t trust you much.” He opens the fridge and looks around, but he’s clearly expecting a response. “Well, she’s not wrong to distrust me. I totally just lied to her about why I’m not going to get home tomorrow.” He pulls out a pack of bacon and some eggs. “In my book, if you have to lie to someone about saving a guy’s life and watching over him to make sure he’s taken care of, that person is not worth being honest with.”

The knot in my stomach tightens. “She...they… they want me home.” “Your parents?” He cracks eggs into a bowl, starts beating them. He realizes too late that he really needs a second hand to steady the bowl and I grab it just in time. “Yeah. They, uh, they’re looking forward to having me work for the family company.” He gives me the side eye. “Uh-huh. Sure they don’t just want you where they can keep an eye on you and make you feel like shit every day if you don’t do what they want you to?” For someone who looks like he’s all brawn, he’s remarkably perceptive. I can’t bring myself to agree with his assessment, at least not outwardly. They’re still my parents and I barely know him. More to the point, he doesn’t know me. It was a pretty accurate guess, though. I ignore the snarky voice at the back of my mind. It was just a guess. My parents aren’t… well, they may act like that, but that’s not the real reason. They care about me. I truly believe that. I have to, otherwise I’d have to wonder why I try so hard to please them. I refuse to think about that. Breakfast is a far better focus for my energy right now. “Shall I put the bacon on?” He nods and seems to accept the change in subject. “How are you feeling today?” I ask, as I lay bacon in a skillet. He eyes me briefly, then refocuses on the eggs. “You realize, until this morning, that’s pretty much the only thing you’ve said to me in the last thirty-six hours?” I shoot him a look. He doesn’t seem pissed about it, just stating a fact. I think back. He’s probably right. “You were mostly unconscious. It didn’t seem relevant to ask what you wanted to watch on TV.” “The Expendables,” he shoots back, and I laugh. “Noted.”

“Still, you seemed very…” He seems to be struggling to find the right word and eventually settles for, “concerned.” “You collapsed in front of my car and then bled all over it. Damn right I was concerned.” He turns to face me. “I get that, but there’s something else going on here. Talk to me.” I stare up at him. How in the hell…? He raises an eyebrow, indicating that he’s got all the time in the world to wait me out. Oh, what the hell. “When I was seventeen and my brother was twenty-three, there was a gig I really wanted to go to. My parents had already said no. My brother told me to go anyway, said I could take the car. He had a date that night, and he said he could take his bike. I’d never broken the rules before that, figured, what’s the worst that can happen, right?” His face stills, his eyes intent on mine. “I’m guessing this little escapade didn’t go according to plan.” Nausea builds in my belly. “Cade was always the rule breaker, not me. He took every chance he could to rebel against our parents. It’s why he got the bike in the first place.” Trap’s face says he understands. Looking at all the tattoos gracing his body, I can believe it. “He was almost home when a truck driver blew a brake line coming up to an intersection. Went through the stop sign. Took Cade right off his bike.” Trap drags in a breath. “I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “The crazy part is, he made it. Cade survived. Broke his right leg and his left arm, and somehow fell on his phone so that he buttdialed me when he hit the ground. I was already home. Pulled up the Find My Phone app, got out there in about five minutes and he was… a mess.”

“So when I ed out right in front of your car the other night…” My lips twist, the closest I can get to a smile, as I swallow down the nausea stirred up by the memories. “It brought some stuff up.” “Aw shit. I’m sorry.” I’m not expecting it, but when he reaches out and pulls me close, I let him. His smooth skin, the hard ridges of muscle, his heartbeat thudding strong and powerful against my cheek. The heat and strength of him ground me, pulling me back to the here and now. “My parents blamed me,” I murmur against his skin. “What?” He pulls me back and stares down at me. “Why?” “Because he was supposed to take the car. If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been as badly injured.” Trap rolls his eyes. “I don’t know exactly who I am right now, but I’m willing to bet your brother would have taken his bike anyway, whether you took the car or not.” “He totally would have,” I agree. “But he used to drive the car to where he kept the bike, and then drove the car back home afterward, so our parents wouldn’t know. He would have been in the car at that intersection.” “And he still would have got in a wreck.” His eyes are soft and dark and understanding, but also implacable. “He still would have got hurt. Did he blame you?” I shake my head. “He said what you said, that he would have got hurt regardless, although he’d have rather the truck trashed the car than his bike.” Trap huffs out a laugh. “Biker born, man.” I smile, then shake my head. “He told me I should use their money to go to college, and then leave.” He raises an eyebrow. “And?” “I can’t. They paid my tuition. For my MBA as well as my undergrad degree. I

owe them.” He regards me for a moment. “That’s debatable, but let’s eat.” As we sit at a cute little table out on the deck behind the house, I try to ignore his bare chest, and mostly fail. What can I say? It’s a stunning bit of manscape and frankly, I’d be a fool to ignore it. I can’t imagine I’m going to meet many men built like this in my parents’ social circle. I don’t know how I feel about spilling my deepest, darkest secret to a near stranger. He understood, which I appreciate, and he didn’t blame me, which I also appreciate. But it just reiterated in my mind that I am not cut out for breaking the rules. People get hurt. People I really care about. My eyes flick up to find him staring at me, and I can’t hold his gaze. I need to be careful. I already care about him way more than I should, and why? Because he gave me an mind-blowing orgasm and doesn’t blame me for my brother’s accident? It’s not enough, right? You can’t build a relationship on that. Besides, we’re clearly from different worlds. It would never work. I’ll stay and take care of him, but then I’m leaving and that’ll be the end of it. “Do you really find business plans hard?” I blink. “I’m sorry, what?” “At the diner,” he says. “You told the kid that you find business plans hard.” “Oh.” My laugh comes out unnaturally high, mostly because he keeps using the word ‘hard’ and it’s really kind of distracting. “You that, huh?” He nods. “And, uh… you know. In the office. I just don’t much about who I am, or why I was out there, or how I got shot. So, anyway. Business plans.” I smile gently. He wants to change the subject. I kind of do too. Neither of us needs to what happened in that office, especially since it’s never going to happen again. “Well, yeah, sometimes it’s hard. When it’s a continuation for an existing

business it’s easier to forecast numbers, because you’ve got a lot of existing data for how they conduct their business. But for new companies, startups, I find it tough sometimes. Everyone always wants these huge, out of this world numbers, because that’s how you attract venture capital, but I always prefer to low ball it. I have so much iration for bootstrappers. They start out with nothing and somehow they build a company out of that. It’s amazing.” His lips are curved in a faint smile and I frown at him. “What?” “You prefer working with small companies.” “Well, yeah.” I shrug. “Big corporations can get loans, attract investors. Small startups often don’t know the right people, and they can’t even afford a business analyst or consultant to help them. A lot of them are very intimidated by the whole concept of a business plan, and some of them aren’t but they don’t quite understand what each section does, so they don’t get it right, and then they lose out on funding opportunities because of that. I want to help those people.” “Will you be able to do that while working at your family’s company?” Why does he have to keep asking the difficult questions? “I plan to do some consulting on the side,” I tell him. “Pro bono.” It’s the truth. My parents don’t know it and I don’t plan to share my intention with them, but it’s still the truth. “Good.” We’ve just finished eating when he looks at me. “I think… I think my buddies and I run a company together.” “Yeah? Excellent. Do you the name?” He squints for a moment, then sighs and shakes his head. “No. I just… seems like I being in a warehouse, looking at manifests for something.” He’s quiet for a moment, then snarls under his breath. “Why can’t I ?” My heart goes out to him. He’s clearly not the type of person who likes just sitting around, waiting for life to happen. It must be incredibly frustrating to be

stuck here, unable to move forward until he can something. Stuck with you, says that irritating little voice. Yeah, and hating it, I remind myself. Not all of it, comes a response, and I look up to see his eyes on mine once more, dark and soft and… damn. My girly parts are tingling and ready and I have to leap to my feet and whip myself and the dishes back into the kitchen before I throw myself at him and embarrass us both. *** Trap

It’s getting harder and harder to keep my hands off this woman. Clearly she never planned for a biker bad boy in her life, and equally clearly she’s the kind of person to whom plans matter. I don’t understand her desire to follow through on her parents’ investment in her education by going home to work for them. Every call she has with her mother leaves her tense, with this haunted look in her eyes. Thing is, I don’t have to understand it. They’re not my family, and she’s not my business. Even though I’d like her to be. I ire the hell out of her dedication, though, and her intelligence. She’s whip smart and absolutely determined to help out small business owners. She hasn’t said how big her parents’ company is, but I her pulling out of the diner’s lot in a black Lexus, just like the one parked out front. And damn, what a name. Star. It fits her, too. She smiles and the world seems lighter. I’m not surprised she graduated top of her class. She just burns, with ion and dedication and intelligence… and listen to me. I sound like a fucking sap. She’s a great distraction from my shitty brain, is all I’m saying. My own mind is holding out on me, refusing to give up any information about who I am or where I’m from. Not even a friend’s name, for crying out loud. I still have no idea who

this Dino guy is, and of course I didn’t think to give her a last name when I was bleeding out on the pavement. It’s pissing me off that I everything to do with her and nothing about my actual life. It’s not just not knowing who I am, though. There’s something else bugging me, something needling the back of my mind. I can’t call it knowledge, because I don’t know fucking anything right now, but it’s like an instinct, a gut feeling that something’s not right. That I’m forgetting something important, besides my name. Something that could get me, and others, hurt, or worse. She just keeps telling me to relax and the next day I blow my stack. “Why fucking bother? I can’t anything, and I need to this! It’s important!” She flinches as I yell at her, and I instantly feel about half an inch tall. “Shit, honey, I’m sorry.” I want to reach for her, not just to comfort her but also to comfort myself, to be sure she doesn’t hold my outburst against me. I don’t do it, though. I’m a shithead. I don’t deserve comfort, and she’s not going to want it from me. I ball my hands into fists to keep from reaching out, but a moment later, a light touch on my arm surprises me. “You’re frustrated,” she says simply. “I get it. I can’t even imagine how hard this is for you, and you were shot too. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t more to that than just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s okay.” I want to yell that it isn’t okay, it won’t be okay until I figure out what ‘it’ is and fix it, but there’s no point. Yelling won’t fix anything, and she’s trying to help. She doesn’t know me from Adam, and she’s trying to help anyway. Do I know any other people who’d do that? Help a total stranger? I hope I do, but I can’t be sure. “Maybe you need to relax.” She holds up a hand to forestall my outburst. She already knows me, which has me torn between snarling and laughing. Snarling because I feel so powerless, and laughing because she knows about as much about me as I do right now.

“I know it’s hard, but there is nothing you can do about any of this right now. All you can do is relax, and heal up, and be in the moment, and maybe that’ll help your memories come back sooner.” I consider her face. From any other woman, I feel like that would be an invitation, but she’s deadly serious. “It stands to reason that if you’re worried about something, your brain may be trying to protect you from it by blocking it out,” she adds. I want to get mad about this. Doing nothing does not seem like it’s going to help, but unfortunately, it makes sense. She always makes sense. “You’re too fucking smart,” I grouse at her. She just grins at me. “Thank you.” Which makes me laugh, but I swallow my chuckles a moment later when she asks if I’d like a massage. I stare at her, seeing the moment she runs what she just said through her brain and looks like she’s regretting it. “Nah, you don’t need to do that,” I force myself to say, even though my cock is already hard in anticipation of its ‘massage’. I tell it to calm the fuck down. I don’t think that’s what she has in mind. She orders me into my room and onto the bed. I lie down as fast as possible, hoping to hide the situation developing in my pants, then grunt in surprise a moment later as she straddles my hips. “You are really tense,” she tells me. I have to it, feeling her curvy ass pressing down on mine isn’t helping with that, but I’m not about to tell her so. “Take your shirt off.” I reach back with one arm and pull the fabric over my head and she pulls it off

my bad arm. I’m not sure how qualified she is to give me a massage, but as her strong, small hands start kneading my flesh, I can’t hold in a groan of pleasure. She stops immediately. “Did I hurt you?” She starts to get off and I reach back to hold her in place. “Don’t go anywhere, you feel great.” It takes a strength of will I didn’t know I had to let go of her, fold my arm back under my head, and let her do her thing. I don’t know if this is heaven or hell, but I’m probably going to die from it either way. The ends of her hair brush over my skin, a delicate counterpoint to the power in her hands and arms as she digs in and works out the knots in my shoulders and back, taking care to be gentle around my damaged shoulder. As she works, I feel the tension bleeding out of my body, leaving me calm and relaxed and half asleep as she works her magic and pulls all the pain and frustration out of me. I suddenly realize she’s stopped and is just sitting there, gently stroking my skin. “See something you like?” She tenses, then laughs quietly. “You have the most spectacular tattoo back here.” “Yeah?” I’m so chilled right now I can barely speak, but I’m becoming increasingly aware of the brush of her fingertips, and a very specific part of my body is starting to tense up again. “Yeah. It’s really cool. It’s like… a dog, but with horns, and a forked tail.” As she says it, the image springs into my mind. “Little horns, right? Not like a longhorn cow.” Her ass presses against me as she shakes her head and I swallow against a mouth gone dry.

“Almost devil horns, I guess. It’s a devil dog.” She laughs softly. And just like that, it falls into place. The Devil Dogs. My motorcycle club. On the heels of that knowledge comes a phone number. Suddenly I Dino. He’s a new member of the club. I talking to him. He had something important to tell me, and I had to go and meet him… After that it’s a blank, but at least it’s a place to start. I turn over, making her shriek as she goes flying. I grab her and pull her down onto my chest. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted, her breasts heaving against me. Okay, first things first. I need to dial this number while I . “Hold that thought.” I turn to the phone beside the bed, pick up the handset and dial. “Devil Dogs,” says a voice I don’t recognize. “I need to talk to Dino,” I say, somehow knowing I don’t need to identify myself. “Trap! Holy shit, man, it’s good to hear your voice. We’ve been worried about you. Yeah, gimme just a sec… Uh, he’s not here. Let me patch you through to his cell.” Turns out I was right. As the phone rings again, I turn and look at Star, who mouths ‘Trap’ at me, then smiles. Of course. Turns out I did know my name after all. Well, my biker name, at least. Dino picks up and I refocus on the call. “Hey, it’s Trap.” There’s a moment’s silence. “Hello, Trap.” He sounds kind of weird, but whatever. “Look, something happened the other night. I got shot and then got picked up by a motorist. I don’t exactly

what happened, I just know I was supposed to meet you. Did I show?” Another pause. “No, you didn’t,” he says. “I wondered what had happened to you. How are you now?” I force myself not to look at Star. “Better than I was two days ago. Look, can you come to me? I don’t know where my bike is.” “Sure thing, man. What’s the address?” I ask Star, who writes it down and es it over. I reel it off. “Thanks, man, I appreciate it. Ah, shit, I should have spoken to Wolf when I called the clubhouse. Didn’t even think of it at the time.” “You haven’t spoken to him?” “No, man, I was worried about you. You seemed pretty stressed when you called the other day.” “Yeah, well, it worked out. Uh, let me call Wolf and bring him up to date. You sit tight. We should be with you in a couple hours.” “Thanks, man.” I hang up, then turn to Star. She looks happy, but there’s an edge of sadness to her face, and I feel the same way too. Our little bubble is about to burst and I don’t want it to. “You. Are. A. Genius,” I tell her, brushing a lock of hair off her face, then sliding my hand around the back of her neck and into her hair, pulling her close and covering her mouth with mine. Her lips part against mine and I don’t even hesitate. I didn’t mean to kiss her, didn’t plan it at all, but now, with her soft, warm lips pressed against mine, and the hot, sweet cavern of her mouth open to my tongue, I can’t resist gliding inside, exploring, dueling with her tongue, commanding, demanding. She whimpers, a sexy little breath of sound which shoots straight to my cock. She pulls back and I let her go, but she doesn’t go far. We’re both gasping for air, and her cheeks are flushed, her lips pink and swollen. Her eyes flicker over my

face and I can see the battle going on behind her brilliant gaze. I should back off, give her room to get herself together, be the gentleman she deserves... “Fuck it,” she says, and covers my mouth with hers, her tongue slithering between my lips, and I’m lost. *** Star

His fist clenches in my hair and he drags his lips down the side of my throat, nipping, nibbling, then swirling his tongue over my skin in a way that has me clutching at his shoulders. He pulls me into his lap so that I’m straddling his hips. Even through his pants and mine, his erection presses against my pussy, and he flexes his hips, making me gasp. He growls against my throat, and moisture pools in my panties. My head falls back as my hands race over his shoulders, and then he grabs my hands and pulls them behind my back. “Don’t touch,” he snarls, his voice so low it’s barely audible, but I feel it vibrating through my chest. “If you keep touching me, this’ll be over way too soon.” I arch against him, the sense of being restrained doing it for me in a way I never imagined it would. The movement presses my pussy harder against his cock, and he groans and rolls me beneath him, following me down to cover my breast with his mouth. Even though my shirt, the heat is mind blowing, and I squirm against him as he teases my swollen nipple with his teeth, making it ache. “Too many clothes,” he mutters, lifting up to pull my shirt over my head. He shoves my bra out of the way, then takes my aching nipple into his mouth. I shriek as he tugs, a wave of pleasure that’s almost painful crashing through me. The heat of his mouth, the wet pull of his lips and tongue, have me crying out with each flick and nip and nibbling tease. His hand wraps around my throat, pressing against the pulse point, his thumb stroking over my skin before sliding into my mouth, hooking over my jaw.

I suck on his flesh, out of mind with pleasure as his hips flex against me, my jeans creating a sensory overload of friction and pressure against my clit. I wrap my legs around his waist, gasping for air as every stroke sends lava tumbling through my veins. His mouth leaves my breast, but his hand replaces it, squeezing and flicking at my nipple. He swallows my whimpers and moans, then trails his lips down my throat once more, sucking on my flesh until I cry out. He’s marking me, I realize, and the thought makes my pussy ache. “Please, more,” I beg. “More, more…” “I got you, starlight,” he murmurs against my throat. His hand leaves my breast to stroke over my belly, dipping under the waistband of my jeans, and then he’s pushing the denim down my legs. It’s barely hit the floor before he settles himself between my thighs. The pressure and heat of his cock against my aching pussy and clit, separated only by the silky fabric of my panties, has me arching against him and crying out. I’m begging him continuously now, desperate words of need and desire tumbling from my lips. I don’t even know what I’m saying, I just know I need him, more of him, all of him. I can’t breathe, can’t see, can only feel, and it doesn’t matter, as long as he keeps doing what he’s doing, driving me out of my mind with pleasure. His hand smoothes over the curve of my ass, around the back of my thigh, and I tense up in anticipation of where his fingers are headed, but he continues down my leg instead. His calloused fingertips leave a trail of goose flesh in their wake, and I twist and wriggle against him, trying to get closer, but his hips have me pinned to the bed. Every movement just presses my pussy harder against his cock, until my eyes roll back in my head and I gasp for air. His hand smoothes down my leg, brushing over my ankle, then trails back up towards where I most want it to be. I moan in frustration as he slides down the bed. He pushes my legs apart, his eyes intent on my panties. I know they must be soaked, and I try to close my legs, embarrassment making me blush, but his hands don’t move an inch. “You’re so beautiful, Star,” he murmurs. “I’m going to have you over and over and over again, until you don’t any other guy but me.”

“There haven’t been any other guys,” I choke out, and his eyes whip up to meet mine. “Seriously?” Disbelief and awe color his tone. “Are they all blind?” I just about manage a smile, my body still humming right on the edge of pleasure. “I was studying. I… do you not want to… uh, anymore?” He raises an eyebrow. “Do you want this? With me?” “Yes,” I gasp. “More than anything.” He smiles, a wolffish smile. He slides his fingers under the smooth fabric of my panties, stroking back and forth over my delicate skin, only a fraction of an inch from where I need his touch, but no matter how much I squirm, he just moves away every time. “Please,” I sob. “Please, touch me.” His smile widens. “Yes, ma’am.” He clenches his fist around my panties and pulls. There’s a sound of shredding fabric and then cool air wafts over my heated, wet core. He leans in and licks me, one long, flat tongued stroke that has me arching off the bed. Then he throws one arm over my hips, pinning me to the mattress, and does it again. I cry out with every stroke, gold and silver lightning flickering behind my eyes and dancing over my skin. There’s no air left in this room. I can’t breathe, can’t speak. My hands scrabble across the sheets, searching for something to cling to as the world tilts sideways. His lips close around my clit, gentle tugs which have my lungs locking up. And then his hand slides over my thigh and a thick, powerful finger pushes inside me. My shrieks of pleasure echo around the room, the rhythm of his mouth and hand combining to drive me insane. It’s too much, so much friction, so much thickness, and I want to ask him to slow down, to ease up, but then he presses another finger into me and I can’t think. The world narrows to him. His hands, his mouth, his body, touching me in places I never knew existed, giving me pleasure I didn’t know was possible. The

tension in my back and body builds to unbearable levels, making me writhe and keen, crying out for more, for less, for everything, and then I come apart, wailing as my orgasm tears me apart, leaving me trembling and breathless and shaking on the bed. He lifts his head and crawls up my body, covering my mouth with his and sliding his tongue between my lips. I can taste myself on him and I shudder as I suck on his flesh. He groans and settles his big, hard, hot body over me, the broad head of his erection nudging at my swollen, aching pussy. I lift my legs to wrap around his waist, and he smiles against my mouth, then swallows my gasp as he pushes inside. He’s big. Really big. He eases himself into me, shallow strokes which move progressively deeper, driving the air from my lungs all over again. The slick slide of his flesh against mine is like nothing I ever imagined, and I clutch at him, clinging to his arms and shoulders as every stroke sets off fireworks inside me. His hand curves around my throat, squeezing gently, and I arch against him. “You like that, huh?” he murmurs, with that same predatory smile. I’m too far gone to blush anymore. He can do whatever he wants to me and I’d probably love it. I can’t deny him anything. “Let’s see what else you like,” he whispers, and his hand leaves my neck, brushing over my breast just as his cock presses deep inside me and I twist against him, whimpering with pleasure. His fingers trail down my body, dipping in at the curve of my waist and over the flare of my hip. He lifts my thigh against him, extending my leg until my foot is over his shoulder, and then he thrusts, hard, and I scream and scream. He’s moving deeper with every stroke, and I’m going to die from pleasure, I just know I am. Every muscle in my body is rigid, strung tight as a bow, and I’m trembling and wailing with every pounding slide of his cock inside me. I’m barely aware of where his hand is until I feel pressure against my asshole. Even lost to pleasure as I am, this feels like a step too far. Illicit. Dirty. But then his mouth covers mine just as his cock slams into me, and his thumb presses inside my ass. The combination of pressure and friction and wrongness sends me

over the edge, screaming into his mouth until I run out of air as my orgasm shatters me into a thousand pieces. He keeps moving, though, maintains that desperately dirty combination of his tongue in my mouth and his cock in my pussy and his thumb in my ass, slipping, sliding, pressing, in perfect rhythm and I shatter again, shrieking against his mouth, and then again, and again. His implacable rhythm finally starts to break down and then his mighty body tenses against me and he roars into my mouth as he fills me with his seed. It’s a long time before either of us can do anything more than gasp for breath, and then he goes into the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth. His gentle ministrations have me gasping as he cleans my oversensitized flesh, and then he climbs into the bed and pulls me close. I’m just drifting away when I hear the buzzing of my phone vibrating in the lounge. I’d rather leave it, but it’ll be my parents, and not answering to them would have consequences I really don’t want to have to deal with. I start to get up, but Trap shifts, moving me sideways. “I’ll get it,” he says, and comes back a moment later with my phone, still buzzing. He hasn’t picked up the call, which I appreciate, especially when I see the name on the caller display. I wince, but there’s no way around it. I have to take the call. “Hello, Mother.” “You haven’t called.” “I’m sorry, Mother. I’ve been trying to—” “Forget the meeting. Your father spoke to the state director for the corporation which runs that hospital. They have no intention of changing their suppliers. You were duped. I expect you to be on the road within the hour.” I take a breath to say something, then let it go. Trap’s body is a solid power at my back, but there’s no point in kidding myself about the reality of this situation. He’s part of a motorcycle club, for crying out loud. He got shot. He does seem like a great guy, but there’s no way my parents would ever accept him in my life. I can’t turn my back on them, and I can’t take him with me.

I have to leave. And I have to leave him behind. *** Trap

I see it in the line of her throat, the set of her shoulders, the minute she gives in to her bitch of a mother. The moment she gives up on this. On us. I don’t know exactly what we’ve got, but I know there’s an ‘us’. I want to find out more, and that’s not just the most amazing sex I’ve ever had in my life talking. I want to see her do work that fires her up, not whatever she’ll be doing for the family firm. Yeah, I may not a bunch of things, but I know how much a Lexus retails for, and hers is brand new. And she let me bleed all over it. Her family’s got money. Serious money. And she’d rather help the little guy set up a business. I don’t know who she is, but that right there, and the Lexus, tells me there’s a world of difference between whoever bought that car and my angel, my Star. I don’t want to let her go, but I don’t know what to say to make her stay. I’ve never met a woman I wanted to make stay. “I have to go,” she says, quietly, her voice full of defeat. It makes me rage inside. I want her to fight, bring all that ion I know burns inside her to bear, fight for her own damn life. “No, you don’t,” I tell her. I know she’s already made up her mind, but I have to try. “I’ve got a place. You can live there. Do the work you want to do. You don’t have to rely on your parents.” “Yes, I do.” She sounds so sad. “They paid my tuition. They paid for everything. They even paid for my car.”

I hate this. I want her angry, furious, ready and willing to fight. But she’s given up already. She turns to face me. “They’re my parents. They’ve been grooming me for the family firm my whole life. This is me. This is who I am.” She turns away, lifts a fingertip to her eyes, brushing away tears, I’m sure. I hate it. Hate knowing she’s doing this to herself, but I don’t know if she wants me to touch her right now. By the time I say to hell with it and reach for her, she’s standing up, moving out of reach. Away from me. It only takes her a few minutes to pack, and I feel like a dog following its master around right before it gets dumped at the shelter. Which is nuts. I have a home. I have a whole club of buddies just waiting for me. Some of them are on their way over to get me right now. And yet, right here, right now, none of that matters. I feel like the center of my world has shifted over the last few days. It’s her now, and she’s going. How do I find my balance when the center of my world is walking away from me? “I’m sure the club could use someone who knows business,” I tell her. “Please. Just...consider it. And call me. Or Wolf. Just...look.” I scribble down the main number for the club on a notebook sitting on the nightstand and hold it out to her. “Or even if you don’t want to work with us. If you just need something, anything…” She shakes her head and heads for the door. I hustle to get in front of her. “Take the damn number, Star.” “It’s Stella,” she snaps. “And there’s no point. You know it. We’re from two totally different worlds. It would never work. Thanks for the good time, though. It was… I had fun.” She has the grace to blush as she claims this was just about sex, but I’m still pissed. “This was never just a good time, and you know it. Not for me and not for you.”

“You literally didn’t even know who you were two hours ago. You can’t say that. I know who I am. I’ve known who I am the whole time, and this won’t work.” She tries to go around me and I slam a hand against the doorframe to block her way. “Do you, though? Do you really? Because it seems to me like you’re just running away from the real you, just to keep your family happy. Because of one little mistake a long time ago. It wasn’t your fault. If anything, it’s your brother you should be wanting to make things up to, but your parents decided they were wronged, and now they’ve got you believing it too. Do they even know what you really want to do with your life?” “I’m not running away,” she snarls at me. “I’m just leaving.” I let her go. Not because she’s right. Not because I think she doesn’t care. No, I let her go because I hear the tears in her voice, the sadness she’s trying to hold back, and I know I can’t force her to think through that. She doesn’t want to go, but she feels like she has to. Until she changes her mind, even if I held her back by force, she wouldn’t really be with me. Wouldn’t really be mine. All I can do is let her go and hope like hell she comes around some time. For now, all I can do is tell myself it’s for the best. Until she figures her shit out, she’s right - it wouldn’t work. So I get to go home and pick up my life and hope that one day, when that phone rings, it’ll be my Starlight on the other end. At least she kept the number. I’m still standing in the driveway like an asshole when a thunderous roar starts to build in the distance. Minutes later, half a dozen hogs pull up in front of the house. I don’t recognize any of them but my memory of the events leading up to me getting shot is still a blank. It stands to reason there’ll be other gaps too. A shorter guy gets off one of the hogs and comes towards me. Ah, this guy I recognize. “Dino, my man, thanks for coming.” “No problem, man. I was worried about you.” He looks around. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

My brain grinds to a halt. “Huh?” It’s the best I can do on zero notice. I don’t want to talk about her right now. I don’t want to acknowledge she exists. It hurts too much. The wound’s too fresh. “The girl. Drives a Lexus.” God, I wish she was my girlfriend, or more. I’d claim her as my old lady in a heartbeat. Instead… “She’s not my girlfriend. And she had to leave.” He nods. “Okay, then. Let’s go.” Well, this is gonna suck. I’m going to have to ride bitch on the back of a bike driven by a guy so new, half the club still thinks of him as a prospect. I head back into the house to grab my wallet, but then something makes me stop. I turn to face Dino. “How’d you know what she drives?” “Huh?” His blank look is no more convincing than mine probably was. The hair rises on the back of my neck. “How did you know what car she drives? She’d already gone by the time you arrived.” I look more closely at the faces of the other guys around us. “And why are you riding with a bunch of guys I don’t recognise?” Dino shakes his head and pulls out a gun. “Boy, did you leave it late to grow a brain. Let’s not make a mess, okay? I’d have to go shoot all the neighbors just because you tried to get smart all of a sudden.” I stare at the gun, then up at his face. “You’re the one who shot me.” Dino smirks. “And then your asshole self made a run for it. We found the blood in the road, and hers was the only car we ed in either direction for miles. Tracked down the number plate, but she wasn’t home, and she wasn’t on the road, either. We looked everywhere. And then you called and gave us the address yourself, you dumb fuck.” My eyes narrow and I tense up, but he steps back and lifts the gun. “Left it a little late to grow a pair, didn’t you? Get on the fucking bike, and don’t try anything. I’ll put you down right here, and then go take care of the neighbors too.”

The look on his face, almost manic excitement, tells me not to call his bluff. He looks like he’d enjoy it. Fuck. I hope Flick isn’t home. Any idea I had about taking off, or crashing the bike with me and Dino on it, dies a death as soon as we hit the highway. Dino rides bitch, right behind me with his gun under my jacket, pressed against my ribs, and the others ride in tight formation around us. By the time we pull off the highway, the light’s starting to go, and we pull into a small campsite a few minutes later. It’s empty and I wonder if anyone uses it to camp anymore, or if these guys, whoever they are, made it their own. “Get off.” I get off and someone pushes me forward, then a blow to the back of my head sends me sprawling to the ground. While I’m blinking the pain away, someone pulls my hands behind my back and ties them tight. “You know, the plan was foolproof,” says Dino. “All you had to do was die and you couldn’t even get that right.” I struggle to my knees. “What plan? What kinda scam are you running?” “No scam.” He flashes me a brilliant smile. “You’re the guy who’s been messing with our shipments. I found you out. You tried to kill me. I shot you in selfdefense.” I stare at him, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. “You want me out.” He snorts. “You’re just the catalyst. The thing I need to get Wolf down here with minimal security. He won’t want the rest of the club to find out you’re the one who’s been messing with our business. Makes him look bad.” I shake my head. “You started using or something? Wolf will never believe I betrayed the club.” “Not for long, that’s true enough. But I don’t need him to believe it for long. Just long enough to get him down here without backup. And then my boys here can take care of the rest.” I blink a couple of times, then look around. “You’re gonna take over the club.”

“The correct term is ‘annex’,” says a new voice, belonging to a shortish guy with a paunch and an evil cast to his face, not helped by the jagged scars slicing across his features. He strolls out of the bushes and stands next to Dino with a satisfied smile on his face. This asshole I recognize. It’s Glass, prez of the Shark Asylum. Which means this shit just got real. Dino hasn’t started up his own little club with a view to staging a coup. He’s handing the club over to one of the most vicious MCs in the country. The Devil Dogs might not be saints, but we sure as hell ain’t demons. The things he’s done, Glass is practically Satan. “The Devil Dogs will cease to exist,” says Dino, grinning broadly. “It’ll become the Green Plains chapter of the Shark Asylum, and I’ll be the prez.” This is bad. This is very bad. I have no way to warn Wolf what’s about to go down. Thank fuck Star left. She’s probably a hundred miles away by now. “You mean a puppet,” I sneer at Dino. “He’ll be pulling the strings the whole time, if he even lets you live that long.” Dino steps forward and swings the gun. Pain explodes as the heavy metal slams into my face and I spit out blood, then wince as he grabs my hair and yanks my head back. I tell myself there’s no point in fighting back at this point, I need to pretend I’m beaten. Besides, if I run, this asshole’s perfectly capable of shooting me in the back and then following through on his plan anyway. And even if I get away, I’ll still be without a phone or transport. Dino leans in close, close enough for me to see the madness in his eyes. “You should never have involved the girl, you know. She knows too much. We’re going have to find her, put her down. Maybe have a little fun with her first. She looked like a pretty little thing.” Screw not fighting. I push up without even thinking. No one threatens my girl, even if she doesn’t want to be my girl. I slam my head into his nose. It connects with a satisfying crunch, but then I’m on the ground again, trying to twist away from the boots slamming into my ribs. One connect with my shoulder and I can’t suppress my grunt of pain.

They pull me up onto my knees again, and Dino wipes blood away from his lip, smirking. “Just for that, I’m gonna cut her up, too. Make her scream. And I’m gonna make you watch.” *** Star

The asphalt unfolds under my car as the Lexus eats up the miles towards home. I’m not pushing the speed limit. I don’t want to get pulled over and add a speeding fine to my transgressions. I’m going to have enough to deal with from my parents when I get home as it is. My gentle attitude towards the gas pedal is purely logical, common sense. It has nothing to do with the man I left behind, somewhere in the mass of green forest behind me. I made the right decision. Our worlds are too different. It would never work. A common interest in business, most likely superficial at best, isn’t enough to overcome the obstacles I can see between us. We both have family we’re loyal to. I can’t turn my back on mine, and I wouldn’t ask him to turn his back on his. Least of all with the kind of welcome he could expect in my home. A mental image strikes me of Trap, six foot plus of leather and tats and hair below his shoulders, standing in my parents’ marble and glass foyer, and a giggle works its way up my throat. I shake my head and push the image away. My father would have a heart attack. My mother would have an aneurysm. And then you wouldn’t have to worry about pleasing them anymore, whispers that snide little voice at the back of my mind. I grit my teeth. They’ve got me where I am today. Fully qualified to do whatever I want in business, with a job offer already waiting for me. I don’t have to pay rent. I don’t even need to drive. All I need to do is work with my family, associate with my people, my peers. Be part of that circle. Fit in. The tightness in my chest isn’t fading in the face of my incontrovertible logic, though. If anything, it’s getting worse. I force down the lump building in my throat, and tell Siri to dial Flick’s number.

“Hey, Mystery Meg.” Flick sounded cheerful. “I’m just heading home after this morning’s clinic. I was starting to wonder if you were just a figment of my imagination, although considering the big hunk of manhood you’re cozied up with in my guest house, I can understand you being AWOL the last few days.” “Uh, right. Well, I’m actually on my way home. I just wanted to say thanks for helping out, and I’m really sorry for all the hassle.” “Hassle? Meh. I patch people up for a living. It’s literally what I do, although that was rather more dramatic than I generally see around here. Wait, what? Is Tall, Dark and Damaged with you? Hi Trap! Take it easy on that shoulder, and don’t be afraid to hit the Tylenol if the pain gets too bad. You’re gonna want to start PT in a couple weeks, but have Star call me and I’ll walk you through the exercises.” “Um, thanks, Flick, but he’s not actually here.” “He’s not?” Flick sounds confused, and I’m uncharacteristically irritated with my usually intelligent friend being so slow. “No, of course not. He’s still in the guest house. His friends were coming to pick him up. I’m going home.” “But...why?” “I assume it’s his motorcycle club buddies, they’re going to take him home. He doesn’t have any transport, ?” “Putting aside the new information about him being part of a motorcycle club and apparently getting his memory back enough to call them, that’s not what I meant,” says Flick, with an exaggerated air of patience which makes me squint at the phone. “Why are you going home without him? Why would you leave?” I huff out a laugh. “I have responsibilities, Flick.” “To whom? Your parents don’t care about you. They just wanna be able to brag about you at the country club. This break was the first time you’ve gone off book in—oh my God, your mom called, didn’t she? She called and told you to jump and you didn’t even bother to ask how high, you just jumped.”

I roll my eyes. Flick’s never had a high opinion of my parents, and I can see her point in some ways, but that doesn’t matter right now. “They want me to be happy.” “No, they don’t,” says Flick, the click-click-click of her turn indicator punctuating her words. She was probably almost home, about to turn off the highway onto her drive. “They want them to be happy, knowing their trophy daughter is making them look good. When was the last time you did something just for you, Star?” “It’s Stella,” I mutter. I don’t answer her question, because I can’t , and I know she can’t either. Her sigh gusts over the line. “Honey, A, you are not a Stella. There’s a reason I call you Star. B, these last few days is the happiest I’ve ever seen you, and that includes when you graduated at the top of your class. Why are you walking away from that?” “He’s not for me. It wouldn’t work. I have to be Stella now.” The lump is back in my throat, swelling, pushing heat into my eyes, and I blink rapidly. There’s nothing to cry about. It was a pleasant interlude, nothing more. This was never just a good time, and you know it. I shake my head, hoping to dispel the image of Trap standing there, huge and beautiful, angry and sad, and intently focused on me as he tried to convince me to stay. “What do you mean, he’s not for you? Why? Because he wears leather?” “He got shot, Flick,” I snap. “He’s probably a criminal.” “Maybe,” she its. “But do you know that for sure?” “No. He’s got amnesia. Even he doesn’t know who he is, not really. But he’s part of a motorcycle club, and I’m pretty sure they’re never good news.” Flick scoffs. “Judgmental much? Honey, you have no idea how he got shot. He could be a CEO who got ambushed by a rival. He could be a gun-toting assassin, albeit one currently not toting a gun. Or he could be a guy who caught the wrong

end of a bullet and then got dissed and dismissed by the woman who saved his life. The woman he fell in love with, and who fell in love with him right back but was too scared to go with it.” “It’s not love,” I blurt, unable to control my tone. My voice is too high. I sound panicked, and I’m not, not really. It’s just...not possible. It can’t be. “It’s too soon. It was just… it was just a good time.” “Keep telling yourself that. And...what the fuck?” Her tone has me sitting up straight. “What?” “Well, my opinion of the guy just dropped. Maybe he isn’t good enough for you after all.” “Why? What are you talking about?” I ignore the fact that this is supposed to be a good thing. If Flick thinks Trap’s not good enough for me, she’ll drop this pointless argument about me leaving hi— I mean, getting on with my life. “Did something happen here that you’re not telling me about? He’s not here but the front door was left wide open.” A chill coils up my spine. “No. He said his guys were coming to pick him up, that’s all. Do you think something happened?” “Give me a minute.” It’s longer than a minute. I can hear her breathing and woodland noises in the background. Bird song, the wind through the trees, and I can’t quite think straight through the nausea. What if something has happened to him? I mean, I may be walking away, it may only have been a fling, but I still care about the guy. I’m not in love with him, of course, but he seemed like a good man. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to him. “Okay, I’m back.” Flick’s voice is strong, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “There were certainly a number of motorbikes here and he must have been in a real hurry to leave, because he left his wallet behind. I’m sure he’s fine. I’ll mail it back to the address on his driver’s license. You keep going. I’ll take care of this.” “Oh, okay.” She ends the call and I keep driving, but I can’t shake the feeling

that something’s not right. Trap didn’t strike me as the kind of person who’d forget his wallet, nor who’d leave someone else’s house with the front door wide open. I shake my head, trying to dispel the feeling of wrongness. He’s a grown man and his friends came to pick him up. He was probably so excited to see them again that he didn’t realize he hadn’t close the door properly and it blew open after he left. And left his wallet inside. Maybe. Someone tried to kill him, though. That’s the part that has me worried. And when I think back over the last few days, the thing that sticks in my mind, in embarrassingly vivid detail, is the amount of attention he pays to things. He knew where I liked to be touched, and ed. He also ed things I’d said, even how I liked to keep glasses upside down in the cupboard. He just doesn’t seem like the careless type. My next problem is, what the hell can I do about it? I can’t call the cops. What would I tell them? And I have a feeling he wouldn’t thank me for getting the cops involved anyway. Isn’t that the real reason I don’t want to take him home to Mother and Father? Not because I don’t think he’s a good man, but because they’d take one look at him and assume he’s a criminal. Like you did? Like you still are? I groan and let my head fall back against the headrest. I screwed up, didn’t I? I walked away from a great guy because I was worried about what my parents would think of him, and I told myself I was making that decision for myself, but I wasn’t. I’d taken their views and opinions on as my own and used them push away a sweet, caring, insanely hot man because I knew my parents wouldn’t approve of him. And now, I think he’s in trouble.

Which brings me back to my original problem: what the hell can I do about it? My head snaps up and I stare out the windshield, then I stab my hand into my pocket, fishing around for the piece of paper Trap stuffed in there as I was leaving. “Siri, call this number.” I read out the number and my fingers curl and uncurl on the steering wheel as I wait for it to connect. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. “Come on, come on,” I mutter, my attention only half on the road in front of me. There’s a click. “You’ve reached the Devil Dogs. Leave a message and we’ll get back to you.” I scream in frustration and end the call. What now? “Oh for crying out loud, Star, grow a spine,” I snarl to myself, and have Siri call the number again. This time, when it clicks over to voicemail, I don’t chicken out. “Hi, my name’s Star, uh, Stella. I met, um, one of you, I think? His name’s Trap. He, uh, I think he might be in trouble. He was staying at my friend’s place, but he’s gone. He said some of you were going to pick him up, but the front door was left open and he left his wallet behind and he didn’t strike me as the kind of person who’d do either of those things, so, um, I’m worried. Uh, I don’t know if you can help, but I don’t know who else to call.” I give Flick’s address and my number and hang up, feeling stupid and helpless. Way to ramble on to complete strangers and give them almost nothing to go on. And how were they going to help, anyway? I pull over into a turnout, and thunk my head against the steering wheel. Logically, I’ve done everything I can do. What else is there? I stare through the windshield. Logic has got me a long way in my life, but I’m not sure it’s any help here. What I’m feeling for Trap isn’t logical. Of course, picking him up off the road in the first place wasn’t logical. I should

have called an ambulance and continued on my way. But I didn’t. And now… Now, I think I’m done with logic, at least as far as he’s concerned. I put the car in drive, hit the turn signal, and pull a U-turn onto the highway, heading back towards Flick’s place. *** Trap

We’ve been out here for about an hour now, and every bone in my body aches, my shoulder worst of all. A bug lands on my wrist, where my hands are tied behind my back, and I flick my wrists as best I can. One hand slides slick over the other, and I realize it’s not a bug. It’s blood. Flick’s work is solid, but there’s a limit to what stitches can handle before they give way. My shoulder’s bleeding again. Great. Dino’s chatting with Glass when his phone goes. He picks it up. “Yeah… Really?” He turns an evil smile towards me and my blood runs cold. “Yeah, both of ‘em.” He hangs up and his smile widens. “You get to watch your bitch die sooner than I thought, Trap. Looks like she came back.” No. No, that’s not how this was supposed to go. She walked away. Why would she come back? “You look surprised. You guys have a little tiff before she went? She dump your ass?” My poker face is rock solid. There’s a reason the guys call me Trap, after all. I notice things and I keep my mouth, and my expressions, shut. It all goes in and

nothing comes out. It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have to keep my horror off my face, though. I won’t give this little prick the satisfaction of getting to me again. The damage is done, though. I lost it one time and now he knows she matters. I’ve condemned her. I have to get out of here. What Dino will do to her is worse than death. I’ll shoot her myself before I let them get their hands on her. “Yeah, she walked away from you, didn’t she?” He’s typing on his phone, looking up every few seconds to smirk at me. “And now she’s walked right back into my arms. Maybe she heard there were some real men in town, wanted to get a taste of the good stuff.” Sly chuckles erupt from the men around me and rage threatens to take me over. I need to keep my cool, need to figure this out. Dino suddenly whistles, a long, low sound of disbelief as he stares at his phone. “Holy shit. You were fucking well out of your league there, man. She’s practically American royalty.” I have no idea what he’s talking about, but it doesn’t matter. I’m trying to be discreet as I look around, reassessing the situation. I’d already run the numbers in my head, figured the odds once Wolf gets here. We’re heavily outnumbered and outgunned, but we’re also brothers. We went through basic training together, survived the sandbox together, and I’m damned if we’re gonna get taken down by this bunch of assholes. Problem is, I’d figured the risks for two ex-Special Forces hardasses against a dozen pussies with guns. It’s easy when you and your bud are the only good guys. Almost anyone you hit will deserve it. If they’re bringing an innocent bystander into the mix, shit just got a lot more complicated. “I ordered background on her, just for the hell of it,” Dino continues. “Looks like Daddy owns half the Eastern seaboard. Maybe I’ll sell her back to them when we’ve had our fun.” Ignore him, I tell myself. Focus on what’s important.

Risks. Potential assets. Escape routes. That’s what matters right now. “Family like that, though,” Dino continues. “They might even pay me to kill her, or keep her. People like that don’t like having their damaged goods on show. Wouldn’t do Daddy’s reputation any good.” Keep her? I hadn’t realized I was working at my bonds until pain flares in my wrists. I’ve rubbed my skin raw, trying to loosen the knots. Problem is, any plan I can put together depends on me having my hands free when shit goes down. It’s gonna happen fast, and Wolf won’t have time to cut me free. My brother. My club. My life. My girl. It’s all on the line here, and I don’t know if I can save any of it. A minute later, a throaty roar announces the arrival of more than one bike. Probably not Wolf, then. Has he even called him in yet? Probably not. He wants to have his fun with Star first, and make me watch. My stomach pitches and I refocus on the knots around my wrists. I was getting somewhere before the blood reached my hands, but now everything’s slick and doubly hard to manipulate. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you are going to regret this.” I frown. That’s not Star. A moment later, two guys drag two much smaller forms into the clearing, and my heart sinks. Both of them. I didn’t pick up on it at the time, but those assholes grabbed Flick as well as Star. Flick’s spitting fire at the giant holding her, one hand wrapped entirely around her bicep. Dino smirks as he slides his phone into his shirt pocket. Star, however, is perfectly quiet, eyes huge and fixed on me. Her lips move, and I realize she’s mouthing ‘I’m sorry’. I shake my head, just the tiniest bit. It’s not her fault. None of this is her fault. She tried to help me. In the end, she only delayed the inevitable by a few more days, and got herself and her friend dragged into my mess too. An amazing few days, for sure, but I don’t think it can make up for the fact that

the three of us are now going to die. Jesus, I’m a shitty human being. This bright, beautiful woman did nothing to deserve this, and her friend even less. Something flickers in my peripheral vision and I turn my head to see a red light on Dino’s phone. The camera is still visible, sticking out of the pocket. I keep my eyes moving, like I haven’t noticed a damn thing. We may, may, have a shot here. I just need to not screw it up. “Wolf’s never gonna believe I betrayed the club,” I tell Dino, raising my voice enough to carry to everyone here. “Not even for a second. Just because you’re a dishonorable piece of shit, doesn’t mean—” His fist connects with the side of my face and stars explode behind my eyes. It feels like I got punched by a rhino. Someone lifts me off the ground and holds me more or less upright as I blink, trying to focus through the pain. When there’s only one of him again, I see him flex his fingers around a large set of brass knuckles. “Wolf’s busy fucking his bitch. It took him three months to notice someone had been messing with the import manifests and all roads lead back to you. I made sure of it.” My lip curls, a sneer I don’t bother trying to hide. The goal, after all, is to piss him off more. “You don’t have the tech skills to pull that off.” Dino shrugs. “Nope, but I don’t need them. Axe here did the hard work.” He indicates the huge guy restraining Flick. “Yeah,” rumbles Axe. “And you still haven’t paid me.” Dino rolls his eyes. Clearly this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. “I told you, Wolf has to die first. Then we’re in.” “I mean your personal debt,” says Axe. “I want paying.” This is interesting. Obviously not everyone’s as big a fan of Dino as he thinks, which isn’t unusual, but I’m only half listening. Is that someone moving around in the woods behind us? Is it more Shark Asylum guys, or is it a deer?

Or is it just my desperate imagination, seeing salvation among the empty trees? “Take her,” says Dino, and my attention snaps back to the conversation. He’s indicating Flick, not Star, and part of me, a part I’m ashamed of, is relieved. Mostly, though, I’m just horrified. Flick has done nothing to deserve this. “That’s bullshit,” I tell them. “She’s nothing to do with this.” “Shut up.” Axe and Dino snap in unison. Axe hides his emotions well, almost as well as I do, but I saw the flicker in his eyes when Dino suggested he work his debt out on Flick. I know Dino saw it too. “Go on,” he wheedles. “You know you want to. Sweet, hot, tight little thing like that? She’d feel amazing on your dick, right?” Flick turns to attack Axe and he just wraps an arm around her body, pinning her arms to her sides. His other hand covers her mouth as her voice rises. “Go on,” says Dino. “She’s all yours.” “Don’t talk about my dick,” says Axe, lifting Flick over his shoulder and heading into the woods as she screams. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Glass and Dino ask at the same time. “I got needs,” says Axe, and he walks away. No one moves to stop him, and a moment later Flick’s screams cut off as though sliced with a knife. Shit. Shit shit shit. Glass shrugs. “Axe likes to work in silence,” he says with an evil smile. “Don’t worry. He cleans up after himself too. They’ll never find her body.” I risk glancing at Star, and my heart squeezes in my chest. Tears are running down her face, even though somehow she’s managing not to make a sound. Christ. How can she even look at me? I’ve got her friend killed and now… the knots around my wrists seem to be loosening, but it’s not enough, it’s not nearly enough as Dino turns and lifts a hand to Star’s face.

*** Star

I’m working really really hard not to freak out right now. I don’t know where that guy took Flick, and I daren’t turn around to look, in case I see something I can’t unsee. Which makes me a total coward, I know, but I don’t know what I can do. The man who grabbed me at Flick’s house is gripping my arm hard enough to leave bruises and his other hand is stroking up and down my back, where no one can see. He strokes the back of my neck, down around my ribs to the sides of my breasts, and down to my ass, his hand pressing in between my legs. When I try to move away, his grip on my arm tightens. On the road here, I kept thinking I saw headlights behind us, reflected in the wing mirrors, but they just disappeared again, every time. No one ed us, in either direction. No one for me to signal, no one to help. There’s no help coming at all, and now this other guy is coming towards me with a raised hand and a purposeful expression on his face. Oh my God, I recognize him. He’s the guy who stared at me from his bike right before I found Trap. The one who made my skin crawl. He grabs my breast and twists. The pain is a bright knife, lancing through my body, but I don’t waste energy crying out. Instead, I jackknife forward and bite his arm, sinking my teeth into his flesh until I taste blood. He wrenches his arm back and slaps me. My head snaps back from the blow, and he laughs. “My name’s Dino, and I’m really gonna enjoy breaking you,” he says. He pulls out a knife and my eyes widen. This is Dino? Shit. Somewhere to the side I can hear a scuffle, thuds and muffled swearing. I think I recognize Trap’s voice, but I can’t look at him. I can’t drag my horrified gaze away from this asshole in front of me. I want to beg him not to hurt me, but then I look at his face and ice skitters down my spine. The look of anticipation on his face, of sheer excitement, is enough to

keep me quiet. He wants me to beg, wants me to be scared. I’m scared alright. I’m fucking terrified. But I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction of seeing it. The point of the knife slips into the V of my neckline. The first few threads give against the blade with a silken sound… ...and his phone goes. His face twists, like a spoiled child who’s suddenly had his candy taken away. He pulls his phone out with his other hand, keeping the point of the knife pressed against the skin between my breasts. “Hey, prez.” Suddenly I’m yanked backwards into the bushes, a hand clamped over my mouth. From here I can just see Trap being restrained by several men as Dino listens to whatever’s being said. “Yeah, of course I ,” he says, waving the knife around, his face a mask of why should I fucking care? “You guys talk about Denver all the time. I never did get the joke.” A moment later, the hands restraining me fall away and I stumble forwards. “I’m—” The guy on the phone breaks off mid-sentence to stare at me, and I suddenly realize there's a lot going on in the bushes around us. The woods are now full of people, and this is clearly not part of Dino’s plan. I look at Trap, who’s up on one knee, trying to stand up, and I run over to him and start tugging at the ropes around his wrists. They fall free just as something very hard and cold presses against my head. “Get over here.” I stand up, very slowly, and Trap’s eyes meet mine, then move sideways, following the gun to whoever’s holding it. Murder moves on his face and I force myself not to panic, not to scream or make any sudden movements. The last thing I want is to get in between two very angry men, but it seems that’s where I

am. “I’m gonna blow your bitch away, Trap.” “Don’t do it, Dino. You’ll die if you do,” says another voice. I don’t recognize this one, but the relief I see on Trap’s face tells me it’s a friend. “I don’t care, Wolf,” says Dino. “At least he’ll suffer. All he had to do was fucking die!” The gun barrel trembles against my head as he screams. Trap’s left eyelid flickers and I frown. Is he having a seizure? It happens again, a quick flick down and then up again. I look down and see the gun in his hand, hidden from Dino’s view. I look back up at him, and he gives me the faintest smile. “Say goodbye, bitch.” I drop flat to the ground, straight down, before I can really think about it. Then there’s a bang, a massive explosion of sound, and then I do cry out. I look up to see Dino lying on the ground, his eyes open and unblinking. He seems to be looking right at me, but then I see the pool of red spreading across the earth between us, and I realize he isn’t looking at anything. Not anymore. And then Trap’s arms are around me, holding me tight, his face in my hair, whispering that it’s okay, it’s over, he’s got me and he’ll never let anything bad happen to me again. *** Someone gave Trap the keys to an SUV and now we’re sitting in the back of the cab, his arms wrapped me over a blanket as I sob my heart out against his chest. “I’m so sorry,” I gulp as the tears fade. “I screwed everything up.” His chin twitches against the top of my head, then he pulls back and stares down at me. “What in hell do you have to apologize for? I should be begging your forgiveness. You did nothing wrong and I dragged you into my mess. I nearly got you killed. Can you ever forgive me?”

I stare at him. “I nearly ruined everything, though. You and your friend had this whole plan. If I’d just kept on driving, I wouldn’t have been there. Flick wouldn’t have been there.” The thought of Flick has me bursting into tears again. No one can find her. Or Axe. It’s like they vanished into thin air. “We’ll find Flick,” Trap murmurs, stroking my hair. “I promise.” I don’t know if I can be as optimistic about that as he is. It’s all my fault. Part of me’s thinking I should have let her call the cops right back at the start. And then Trap would probably be dead, but I’d still have my friend. Who might be okay... Dear God, I just don’t know how to handle this. “Good work today, man.” I look up to see Wolf, Trap’s huge friend looking in the open window. “How did you know how to find him?” I ask. He grins. “When we got your message, I had our tech guy hack Dino’s phone. Turned the camera and microphone on. We saw and heard everything.” “I saw the red light turn on,” Trap tells me. “I knew it meant someone was watching. I just hoped it was this asshole.” “Screw you,” says Wolf, without heat. Then he looks at me. “We’re gonna find your friend, okay? And the bastard who took her.” “Axe,” I tell him. “About six five, short, dark blond hair, short beard, more scruff than a beard. Rocking a Viking biker vibe, you know?” He nods. “You’re observant.” I shrug. “I trained as a business consultant. You have to be observant, pick up on the small details.” I trail off. I suddenly realize something which had been bugging me before all hell broke loose. I’d forgotten it until now.

“What is it, Starlight?” Trap asks, his voice gentle. “What did you see?” “Axe,” I murmur. The two men rumble threats and I smile and shake my head. “I can’t put my finger on it, but there was something weird about how he was holding her.” “Like he was injured somehow?” Wolf asks. I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I’m sorry, I don’t know what it was. I just know there was something that didn’t seem quite right about it. I’m sorry. I really hope you find them soon.” Wolf nods and walks away, pulling out his phone. Trap tugged me back against his chest. “I know you have responsibilities, Star, and I don’t pretend to understand them, but I just want you to know…” He suddenly sets me back from him and my heart sinks. It’s over. This is where he tells me it’s over, just when I’d finally made a choice to follow my heart instead of my head. “I just want you to know,” he says. “I love you. I know it’s too soon, but when I thought I was going to lose you back there… all I could think was that I didn’t get a chance to tell you how I felt. How I really felt. That I wanted, that I want, you on the back of my bike, and in my bed. Not just for a while. Not just for a fling. Forever. I want you to stay, and if you’ll let me, I’ll go to the city. I don’t care where we live. I just need to be with you.” Something tight and cold in my chest unfurls. “I love you too!” I throw my arms around his neck and he laughs as I press my lips against his. He takes over the kiss almost immediately and soon I’m moaning against his mouth and squirming against him. Then I what I actually wanted to say, and force myself to sit back. “I meant to tell you something else.” I take a deep breath. “I’m not going home.” His eyes widen. “You were right. I was running. Standing in the woods, thinking I was about to

die, I realized I will never care about my parents’ company as much as I care about you. About this. So...if you’ll have me...I’d like to stay. With you.” His face splits in a huge grin and he yanks me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me until I get any closer. “If I’ll have you? You gotta be kidding me. I’m never gonna let you go. You had your shot and you blew it. You’re mine now.” I smile up at him. I’ve never been so glad to be trapped. “Take me home, Trap.” “Anything for you, Starlight.”

*** Epilogue – six months later Star

“Enough of this nonsense, Stella. We’re sending a car for you. You are coming home today.” Just a few months ago, I would have quailed at Mother’s tone. I’d have bowed my head and bit my lip and railed internally at the unfairness of it all, and then I’d have done exactly what she wanted. Today, things are a little different. “Mother, I am happy here.” She starts to interrupt and I cut right across her. “I’m still talking, Mother.” A shocked silence falls on the other end of the line. “Thank you,” I tell her, with all the false sincerity I can muster. “The fact is, I am home. I’m happy here. I’m in love, I’m valued for who I am, all of me, and I have work I really enjoy and that I find fulfilling. I have no reason to come back east.”

There’s another moment’s silence, then my father launches into a tirade about kidnapping and brainwashing and Stockholm Syndrome. I let him run on for a while. Eventually he stops, and there’s silence. “Stella?” “Oh, you’re finished, then? Fine. Send the car, but bear in mind that I’m pregnant, and I will happily tell every tabloid rag in the country who the father is and what he does for a living unless. You. Back. Off.” I infuse the last three words with all the steel I can muster, and it’s a lot. I learned from the best. The silence stretches on and on until suddenly, the line goes dead. I burst out laughing, then realize there’s more laughter coming from over by the grill. Wolf is manning it today and he guffaws as he turns steaks and burgers with one arm, while hugging his girlfriend, his old lady, against his side with the other. I’m proud of myself for ing the terminology. There’s a lot to learn. “Man, I bet that made them both choke.” Wolf chuckles. “I was starting to wonder what it was going to take to get those two to back off. I never thought you’d tell them you were pregnant! Nice trick!” I smile. “I had to do something,” I point out. “It was getting out of hand.” I catch Trap’s eye. He’s loading up a couple of plates for us, but he seems disappointed about something. They probably ran out of potato salad. He’s nuts for that stuff. “Tell me about it,” says Wolf. “I was starting to wonder if we were gonna have special forces parachuting down into the yard. But you solved it. Pregnant! Ha!” Flick raises her eyebrows at me from across the table and I smirk at her. She rolls her eyes and leans against her guy’s shoulder as he loads up a hot dog and then aims it at her mouth. I’m so glad she’s here. The horror of what she had to go through threatened to take me under for a while, but now she’s got her happy ever after. We both have. I’ve even found a place working with the club’s (completely legitimate) businesses, making everything way more efficient as well as figuring out new opportunities for them. I’m also doing a lot of pro bono consulting working for small startups. It’s just as rewarding as I knew it would be.

I feel movement next to me, and turn to see Trap sitting down, his hands full of plates piled high with food. Burgers, sausage, steak, slaw, three kinds of salad… “Honey, you know there is no way I’m ever going to eat all of this, right?” He shrugs, not quite meeting my eyes. “Is everything okay?” I ask him in a low murmur. He meets my eyes, then slides his hand over my belly. “I thought you were telling the truth,” he says. “About being pregnant. I mean, I guess it’s way too soon, right? We haven’t even talked about kids. I just… when you said it, for a minute there I was insanely happy, thinking I was gonna be a dad, and then…” He shrugs again, then cuts up my burger, pours a load of ketchup onto the plate, and aims a piece of burger at my mouth. My mouth is watering, but the joy and relief surging through me right now takes precedence, and I reach up to stop the fork in mid-air. He looks panicked. “You don’t like burger? I thought you loved burger. I didn’t even ask. I’ll get you something else—” “Sweetie.” I cut across him and grab his other hand, pulling it to my stomach. “It’s fine. I love burger. I just wanted to tell you… I wasn’t lying.” He freezes, then his eyes rise to meet mine. The pure, unadulterated happiness rising there mirrors how I feel perfectly. “I’m gonna be a daddy?” he asks, and I nod. He grabs me and leaps to his feet, swinging me around, then hugging me tightly against him. “Holy shit! I’m gonna be a dad. We’re having a baby!” In the storm of congratulations and backslapping and hugs that follows, all I can think is that this is what family is really about. I’ve got a real family now, all because of Trap. He’s my family now, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him, and the club which saved both of us.

*** THE END ***

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Julie

It’s early but the sun is already hot. I get out of my car and manhandle the huge bags of produce onto the tarmac. I squint at the sun, then fumble with my keys until the locks engage. I’m girding myself for the trip across the lot with enough vegetables to feed an army when the baking air is split by a roar. Startled, I turn to stare, realising at the last minute that it’s just the local motorcycle club, aka biker gang, getting ready to do whatever it is they do on Thursdays. When I first got here, I was scared of them. And, I’ll it, I worried my cute little Mustang wasn’t going to make it through the day. But it’s still with me, three years later. I can see the bikes across the road. I’ve got a good look at them over the years, and some of the riders, too. I crane my head slightly, trying to see if any of the hotties are around today. Then I stop kidding myself. I’m really only looking for one guy. The leader. He’s a tall, broad-shouldered, swaggering package of what my mother would call good for nothing. I call it good for one thing, at least. I bet he’d be really good at it, too. He appears and I start to salivate. The way those black jeans hug his legs, the black leather jacket stretches across his shoulders, the snarling dog with bloodred fangs and white eyes standing out on the back. Apparently the gang’s called the Steel Dragons. Not the kind of people I’d ever hang out with, for obvious reasons. I haven’t told my parents there’s a biker gang across the road from where I’m volunteering. They’d lock me in my bedroom for the rest of my life

rather than let me get within five miles of anything so disreputable. He’s about to get on his bike when he stops, looks up. I swallow. Even across eighty yards of asphalt, his gaze is like a brand, scorching my face. Or maybe that’s just me blushing because I’ve been caught staring. I duck and grab the bags and hustle across the parking lot as best I can. I almost make it without looking back at him. Almost. He’s watching me. I’m thankful for the air conditioning as I stagger through the door of the rec center. Silas is there, his weatherbeaten face creasing even more when he smiles at me and takes most of the bags off me and into the kitchen. He and Johnny T have been waging war over the chessboard for as long as I’ve been volunteering here and they start early. “Thank you, Silas!” I spot Johnny heading for the table and greet him too. He responds with a grunt. A man of few words, our Johnny. I don’t mind. A lot of people would get rubbed wrong by his lack of manners but I’ve been here long enough that he’s started to warm up to me and I’ve realised he just doesn’t waste words. I’m also pretty sure he’s on the spectrum but being homeless and in his sixties, it’s not like he’s ever going to get a diagnosis. Which is why, when I take over a couple of cups of coffee, I’m not surprised when he just nods and stays focussed on the board. “Thank you, Miss Julie.” Silas makes up for the both of them when it comes to manners. “You’re welcome. Thank you for your help. Who’s winning?” “We only just started. No one’s winning yet,” Johnny points out. “I guess I’ll see you boys later, then.” Silas grins and nods, then refocuses on the board.

I head into the kitchen and get to work on prep for lunch. Another reason I get here early is so that I can go by the market in the city first and pick up vegetables wholesale. Today they were having a special on avocadoes and I couldn’t resist, although I don’t know what anyone’s going to make of them. Then I mentally slap myself. You never know what background people have come from. I’ve had the most amazing conversations about Kafka and Renaissance architecture and the history of Kashmiri dialects with homeless people here at the centre. Silas, for example, went to grad school and was an interior designer for years in New York. There’s no reason to assume anyone here will turn their noses up at the avocadoes. That said, I decide to cream up a bunch of them for the soup and put the rest in salad. They’ll barely notice in the soup and anyone who doesn’t want it can pick it out of a salad. There’s a pile of avocado skins on the side when the phone rings. I clean off my hands as well as I can and grab it. “North Ridge Recreation Center, Julie speaking.” “Hi Julie, it’s Danny.” Danny manages the center, a real good guy. Like me, he comes from money. Unlike me, he’s free to do what he wants with his. Not that I mind. I have enough of an allowance that I can do pretty much what I want, but my parents would cut me off in a heartbeat if I stray too far from their idea of what I should be doing with my life. They threatened to do it when I said I was considering studying Sociology at college. So I went into Law instead. Of course, once I graduated, my dad almost had an aneurism when I said I was going to law school. Apparently the degree wasn’t supposed to lead to a career. At least they’re fine with me volunteering. That’s acceptable. I suddenly realise I haven’t heard a word Danny’s said. “I’m sorry, what was that?” “Daydreaming over Mr. Vicious again?” My face burns as I blush. Danny’s warned me about the bikers. It doesn’t stop me fantasising about their gorgeous leader.

“Not at all,” I lie. “Just thinking about how many more avocadoes I need to destroy for the lunchtime soup.” “Mm-hmmm.” He’s not even slightly convinced and we both know it but he lets it go. “The thing is, the reason I called, I can’t come in today.” “Oh? Why not?” “Uh, well, I just can’t. I’m afraid you’ll just have to take my word for it.” I raise an eyebrow at the phone but let it go. It’s not like Danny to be mysterious but there’s not much I can do about it and it’s not really that big a deal. I know how everything works and say so. “I know. Do you mind locking up tonight?” “Not at all. See you tomorrow.” He grunts and hangs up and I stare at the dead phone for a moment in confusion before hanging it up. He’s not usually so quiet. I’ll get the full story from him tomorrow. Looking around, it occurs to me that a man who’s known me for three years is more than happy to leave me in charge of an entire building and providing meals for a number of vulnerable people, but my own parents throw a fit if I get home ten minutes after curfew. Speaking of which, I need to let them know I’ll be home later than usual. It takes fifteen minutes to convince them that I’m perfectly capable of locking a building and driving home after dark. I hang up the phone and take a deep breath, before pounding an avocado into oblivion with a little more force than is strictly necessary. At least it can’t ground me.

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Also by K. R. Max:

Contemporary erotic romance Her Dominant Boss Caden Max Leo

Devil Dogs MC Her Dominant Biker Her Broken Biker – this book!

Alphas & Innocents Her Billionaire Professor Her Dominant Neighbor –free when you sign up for my mailing list! Her Dominant Lawman

Contemporary erotica Billionaire Santa And His Innocent Intern His To Take

Paranormal shifter romance Haven Bear Shifters Rogue Bear’s Fated Mate Alpha Bear’s Fated Mate Rebel Bear’s Fated Mate Backup Bear’s Fated Mate Danger Bear’s Fated Mate

About the author

K.R. Max loves ice cream, big fluffy dogs, and stories where the woman finds her place with a super-hot guy who adores her. She specializes in dominant heroes and the sweet, innocent women who bring them to their knees! If you like a fast read with a guaranteed happy ever after, lots of super-hot and VERY dirty shenanigans, and NO cheating OR cliffhangers, K. R. Max is for you!

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