Ransomed MC Princess #1 (8 page)

The man is close now. His body almost touches mine. Even through his leather jacket, I can tell how strong his arms are.

“So the boy bottle fed her. It took a while for her to trust him, but he didn’t give up. And, after a while, she put her little paws on his arms just like this,” he says, gently taking hold of my wrists.

His fingers are rough and strong. The shoulders he places my hands on are even stronger. Slowly, he loops my hands behind the back of his head, pulling me away from the branch and towards him.

“She was so scared she couldn’t eat,” he whispers. “Her fear almost killed her, but she didn’t let it. Even though it was the scariest thing in the world to her, she found it in herself to trust.”

My breath catches. My heart starts speeding up. My breathing might start speeding up, too. He feels as sturdy as the tree. No, even sturdier. There’s something comforting about his protective embrace.

His arm tightens, holding me against him. He begins to climb down from branch to branch, winding along the trunk of the tree. “Want to know what the boy named her?”

“Yes.”

“Valkyrie,” he says. “Because overcoming what your fears takes more strength than never being afraid, because never being afraid means that you’ve never loved something so much that you know losing it would destroy you.”

We reach solid ground. I tip my head back from his shoulder and look into his face.

It’s difficult to differentiate his features from the shadows, but even from what little I see I sense something primal and raw about him. His eyes glint in the moonlight like metal as they stare into me.

“That was a really beautiful story,” I tell him.

He nods.

“Thank you for saving my life.” I cringe. “I probably should have said that first…”

“Hey, we both saved your life. If you didn’t let me take you, we both woulda fallen.”

So really I almost killed myself and him. Great
. “That’s one way to look at it.”

He says nothing.

“Thank you,” I say again. “Really.”

Still nothing.

Looks like I’m going to need to spell it out. “You can put me down now.”

His grip on me tightens. “Not gonna happen.”

What?!?

“There’s a cabin down the road. We’ll go there first, fix you up, and then get you home.”

No! The cabin was too close. I needed to get home, secure foodstuffs, lock my door, and then break apart my furniture and nail down all the windows like a fucking zombie apocalypse was coming.

“I’ve got a bike,” I tell him. “I can ride home. You’ve already done more than you need to.”

“You can’t go home on that bike.”

“Like hell I can’t! I was riding it until I…”
almost ran into your car
. Shit, maybe I should stop talking.

“Whether or not you can ride it isn’t the issue. It’s totaled, babe.”

Every cell in my body turns to ice. “What?”

“It went down the hill after you and smashed into some rocks. Even if you could get it back up to the road, there’s no way that thing would run.”

I don’t think I’m hearing him correctly. “What?”

“It’s ruined. Sorry.”

Totaled. Ruined.

Oh. My. God.

Totally ruined.

That was Damien’s motorcycle. His baby. The love of his life. Now I’d never be leaving my room because once he got me in there he’d freaking kill me!

I don’t struggle as the man starts carrying me up the hill. I’m too shocked to do anything but cling to him.

Halfway up, I see the bike. And, oh boy, I am so fucked. Every muscle in my body tightens.

“That’s not your bike, is it?” the man says. Even though he poses it like a question, it isn’t.

Shit. “Um…no it’s not exactly mine.”

“How, exactly, did you get it?”

Damn, what’s with these questions? “I, uh, borrowed it.”

“Oh.” He waits a second. “Does the person you borrowed it from know you borrowed it?”

“Yes.”

There’s a purposeful silence coming from his end.

“I’m not lying!” I tell him. I mean, Damien did see me driving away on it, after I stole his keys and kneed him in the groin. It wasn’t like it was some big secret.

“So, why’d you leave the party?” the guy continues.

Oh, why wouldn’t I leave that awful party was a bigger question! “Things weren’t going well.”

“Did someone make you feel uncomfortable?”

I think of Damien’s mad face. “You could say that.”

He stops. His demeanor changes, his shoulders tightening, mood darkening. My heart skitters. “Who was it?”

“Who was what?”

“Who’s the asshole who made you want to leave?”

I feel like electricity just ignited my veins. I like hearing the nasty sex demon being called an asshole way too much. “Damien.”

“The kid from Dawn's Rebellion MC?”

“Kid?” I scoff, trying to get another good look at him. “You’ve got to be about as old as he is! Who are you callin’ a kid?”

“Just that he’s who’s gonna take second after Dawn's Rebellion’s prez passes on the torch.” His grip on me tightens. “What did he do to you?” his voice is soft, so damn soft.

“He made me feel like a fool, again. I wanted to show him up tonight. The guy thinks he owns me.”

“But he doesn’t, right?”

“Fuck no! I hate him.”

We’ve reached the top of the hill. The guy sets me down on the road right next to the dented part of the guardrail where Damien’s bike hit.

“That’s his bike, isn’t it?” he asks.

My toes curl. “Maybe.”

His teeth catch the moonlight, flashing as he grins. “Gotta say, I like your style babe.”

Suddenly, totaling Damien’s bike doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. “Thanks.”

“So,” the guy says, climbing over the guardrail after me. “We got a few options. If you don’t want a stranger drivin’ you home, I can call someone to pick you up.”

I consider this for all of four seconds.

In the first second, I imagine calling Cheyenne…who is currently at the meeting with my father.

In the second, I think about calling Candy, who totally does not have a car since we called a cab, and leaving an angry voice message.

In the third, I consider calling Damien.

And in the fourth, contacting one of Damien’s brothers, like Gracie or Ryder…but since they’re totally “bros before hos” the one who’d come to get me would be Damien.

“What’s the other option?” I ask.

“I can take you to that cabin, see what’s up, and from there either take you to the hospital or home.”

I don’t hesitate. “Okay. I want that one—I want to go with you,” I tell him.

If this surprises him, he doesn’t let it show. “Alright. Let’s go.”

He bends over to adjust the rear suspension of the bike so I can ride with him. I cross my arms over my chest, squinting as I try to make out his patch in the moonlight. It’s faded and it looks like the corner of it is peeling. Is that a serpent, maybe? I recognize the large shape in the center as a skull, but that tells me nothing. Nearly every club here sports one of those on the back.

He stands, brushes his hands off on his jeans, and turns. “I’m guessin’ you’re not a virgin.”

My eyes shoot open. “WHAT?!?” Where the fuck had that come from? And how the hell was it any of his business?

He chuckles like he’s amused by my response. “You’ve been on the back of a bike before, right? So you know what parts are too hot to touch, and not to put your feet down if we stop?”

Oh.
Virgin
. Like…that kind of virgin. The kind who’s never been on a motorcycle before. Biker virgin. “Yeah, I’ve been on bikes since you were…” my voice cracks as all 6-feet plus biker badass steps towards me, “…probably also riding bikes.”

Did the comment I just made make any sense? What the hell is wrong with me? Why did the “V-word” get me all confused and bothered?

“So you know what to do, then,” he continues. “Just wrap your arms around my waist. If you need to stop for anything, tap my shoulder.” He hands me a helmet. “Probably a little big for you, but I’d like to think it would be better than nothin.’ You gotta excuse me, I wasn’t expecting company.”

I put the helmet on as he seats himself.

I get on behind him and wrap my arms around him for the second time. I push my face in the center of his back, taking in the familiar scent of leather, oil and smoke as a strange thrill shoots through me.

“Ready?” he asks.

I gulp. “Yes.”

“We’ll take it slow,” he whispers, and a jolt I feel all the way to the tips of my toes rushes through me as the bike roars to life.

The cabin is less than a mile away. It doesn’t take us long to get there, even at his leisurely speed. He pulls up a dirt road. The cutesy animal totem poles that hold up the sign “Camp Tambourine” are still there. As we pass beneath it, I wonder how this guy knows about this place. It’s a strange local attraction, so it wasn’t something I’d think members from other clubs would know about.

We pull up at the main cabin and get off the bike. Since the camp doesn’t open until May, it’s empty. The forest canopy above is so thick that I can’t see the moon or any stars. There’s something eerie about us being nestled beneath all the big trees, surrounded by the scent of evergreen trees and earth.

He unfastens the buckle of my helmet and puts it on his bike. “How you feelin’?”

I shiver and cross my arms over my chest. “A little cold, but other than that, okay.”

“You okay to walk?”

“Yeah.”

He nods and turns towards the main cabin of the camp. He skips over the door to the front office and walks along the back of the building to the nurse’s room.

“You know your way around here pretty well,” I note.

He bends down and starts picking the lock like it’s as normal as grabbing an umbrella before stepping outside in the rain. “I spent a summer here when I was younger.”

I’d spent quite a few summers here as a kid too. My hands grip the air where my necklace should be. “How long ago was that?”

He glances up at me, smiling. “It’s been twelve years and ten months, but who’s counting?”

“And you still remember where everything is?”

The door opens. He steps inside, flicking on a switch. “Yeah,” he says, taking off his coat and dropping it on a wooden chair near a bookcase beneath the front window. “Nothing’s changed.”

Maybe nothing in the room has changed, but everything about him just did. There seems to be a new tension in his broad shoulders, or maybe it just seems that way since I can finally see them under full light and without his coat. He slides his fingers over the cot where children in the summer sat to get their temperatures taken, or their scraped knees bandaged.

“Alright, babe. Let’s make sure you’re okay.”

I walk up behind him, brushing his strong shoulder as I hop onto the cot. I grip the edge of the mattress and look up.

And then I can’t do anything but stare at him.

There’s a beautiful, impenetrable wildness to his face. His black hair is a little longer than it should be. Rough stubble lines his jaw. There’s a ghost of a scar right above his left temple. His deep, blue eyes pierce me, as if they can see my innermost depths. The color of them reminds me of summer but they’re as cold as a winter sky.

Strong hands grab my shoulders. Tattoos snake up his arms and around his neck. I bet his entire body is covered in them…almost every powerful inch…

“Babe, you okay?”

I’m breathing too fast. Did he just ask me something?

His grip on my shoulders tightens. “Hey, hey, stay with me.”

I close my eyes. Right. He just asked me if I was okay. Am I okay?
Not really
. But how can I tell
him
that one look at his face sent me to La-La Land? And that his hands on me are…are making me…feel…

I squeeze my legs together.
Oh my fucking God what is going on?

“Shit,” he whispers, keeping one strong hand on my shoulder while the other reaches for his phone. “Still no fucking service. We gotta get you to the hospital. Come on. I’ll carry you.”

Wait, hospital? Carry me? He dips down to take me in his arms.

Because I am incredibly stupid, I swat those sexy arms away. “I’m fine.”

He pulls back a few inches, concern etched into his face. “Babe, you’re
not
fine.”

“Yes I am!”

“No, you’re not. You were lookin’ like you were ‘bout to pass out. And, I don’t wanna freak you out or nothin’, but your eyes did this really weird thing where they rolled back into your head, like you were possessed or somethin’—”

My face starts to burn. What I just showed him was my lust-face, right? As in, the face I make when I’m turned on? Did he just compare it to
demonic possession?

Unfortunately, I get an immediate, affirmative response to my unasked question. “Fuck! It’s happening again. Stay with me, babe.”

“I’m okay,” I tell him.

“You’re burnin’ up.” He goes in Don’t fight me. I gotta get you outta here.”

I kick his rock-hard stomach. “Stop. I’m fine, okay? It’s just…temperature changes and…I’m not used to being this close to some random guy, and you’re really
…” Fuck, was I about to say he was hot? What the hell is wrong with me?

“I’m really what?” he prompts.

Shit. “Big,” I whisper, looking at his pants for some weird ass reason. While I’m gazing at them, I realize how he might take what I just said, and foolishly decide to clarify. “I mean, not
big
big, though you are big…
big
…but I mean, you know, like…tall.”

Oh God, I want to die. If I’d sputtered such nonsense in front of demon spawn Damien, he’d never let me hear the end of it.

Luckily, this guy isn’t like that evil asshat. “Sorry. I can be a little intense. I don’t meant to intimidate you, babe.” His hand grips my stomach as he leans back. I moan. It isn’t a sexy—oh wait, I mean
demonically possessed
—moan. The kind that signals pain.

He frowns. “Is your stomach hurt?”

“A little,” I wince. “I don’t know why it just started hurting
now
though. I think it’s from where I hit the tree. Probably a bruise or something.”