Charged (17 page)

I knew I was getting close to the truth with her, but I didn’t think she’d run. I go in the direction of the town limits, thinking she might have felt threatened enough to just take off without her things. It’s a long shot but I can’t ignore that option. There are a few people out this way but no sign of Kate, or her badly dyed hair. She doesn’t know the town well enough to hide out somewhere, and I doubt she’s ballsy enough to call Hazel to come get her at this hour.

I turn the Duc’ around and make my way back towards the Brew. Everything down in this end of town is pretty much closed except the bars and coffee shops. I drive slowly by the Brew again, just in case she returned, but I don’t see her anywhere. Just in case, I decide to pull up beside the nearby Starbucks. 

I can’t believe this shit. Here’s a girl I hardly know, and I’m running my ass all over town wanting to get her back to Hazel’s safe and sound. Who am I to deal out the safe card? But if she really does have something to do with the Lusi brothers, in her mind
I’m the least
safe place for her. 

Why the fuck do I care? It’s not like I want her for anything more than a fuck against a brick wall or something. It’s not like I want a relationship with her. That’s just not in me to do. I figure its’ a waste of time. People die on you, or disappear leaving you alone anyways. I don’t need that shit. But for some fucked up reason, I feel the overwhelming need to protect Kate from the scum of the earth like Clit and the Lusi family. 

I have no reason to care. She hasn’t asked for it, and here I just keep offering it up like a schmuck. Even after she blue-balled me twice already, I’m still trying to help her out. Fucking loser. 

Regardless, I decide to give it a shot, looking around at the people out on the patio, and trying to see inside from my position on my ride. There are way too many people in there though. I can’t see shit. Finally, I shut the bike off, stand it on the kickstand and walk inside. 

The place is jammed from wall to wall with college kids, and as I walk around the tight space looking at everyone, unexplainable relief floods me when I find her ducked into a petite space beside the fireplace, cowering. 

“Kate.”

“I’m not leaving with you,” she declares, trying to look tough as she glares up at me, an oversized mug in her hand, filled with what looks to be a steaming hot latte. 

“You are. Why’d you leave?” I shoot a withering glare at the kid in the chair beside her, and when he jumps out of the seat, I sit down beside her.  

“I can’t. I know why, and you know why. It’s — it’s just not going to go well for me,” she stammers and holds the mug like a security blanket closer to her chest. She’s so frightened; terrified so badly that she’s visibly shaking. I lean toward her, placing my hand around her much smaller one, holding the cup still as I catch her eyes. 

“Spark plug, trust me. No one, and I mean not one single fucker will hurt you.
Especially
not me.” 

She looks at me, drops her eyes to the cup then looks back up. The scared rabbit is back. I must have got really close to the truth. There’s no denying it now. It’s the Lusi she’s hiding from for sure. Whatever it is, she really is in deep. 

“Come on, I won’t even take you back to Hazel’s if you don’t want. I’ll take you to a motel or anywhere you want. Your choice, Kate.” I run my thumb along her jawline caressing her face. This woman is beautiful, and the fear in her eyes just doesn’t seem right. She looks so vulnerable when I know she’s tough as nails. 

She swallows and looks me right in the eye. “I need Creature, I need my things, and I need gone. Like I told you before, I can’t tell you why, but I have to go. How long until the car is done?” 

I didn’t want to tell her earlier, but after the fight with Clit, I’d tried to get some more work done on that piece of shit. Creature’s problems go way beyond the doors and the engine. They’re the least of the problems, actually. The wiring is a mess, and she’s lucky there hadn’t been a fire under the dash. I’m surprised she was even able to stop on the side of the road when the engine blew. To top that, the heads aren’t fixable at all. The machine shop had called this afternoon, to say they were cracked. With all of this combined, the costs I’d given her earlier were so far out of whack that the price won’t cover it and make it drivable too. She needs another car. 

I’d actually already looked out the back at our wrecking yard and found a cheap crapper that will work for her in the meantime, so she can get on the road. But like the fucking dick I am, I’d really wanted to go out with her so I kept it a secret. I’m such an asshole. 

“Don’t worry, Kate. I can get you on the road as early as tomorrow, if that works. Let me take you home.” I don’t want to tell her ‘home’ is my place. I know it will just scare her even more if she knew that the Lusi brothers would be here first thing in the morning. I have this suspicion that if she sees him, or he sees her, that something terrible will to go down. 

She rises out of the corner, sets down her drink and grabs her little shoulder bag she’d brought with her. I take her hand, wrap my other arm around her shoulder and lead her out to the street. As we move towards my Ducati, she stops.  

“Come on,” I say as I’m trying to hand her the helmet. “Let’s get you back.” 

“No.”  

“What do you mean?” I leg up on the bike, pull it back to kick it off the stand and put the key in. 

“No, I’m not going back there tonight. I can’t. Tomorrow I’ll grab my stuff and get going, as soon as you have my car back together, but I can’t go back tonight.”

“Do you want to go to a motel? There’s one just by the shop if you want.” She stands still at first, holding the helmet so that it dangles from the strap she’s gripping like a lifeline. Finally, she moves forward and stops right beside me.  

“I don’t want to go to Hazel’s, and I don’t want to go to a hotel. I want to be with you. I don’t get it. It’s not sane, or something I can even explain but — I trust you Ryker. Tell me I can trust you?” 

The vulnerability in her voice guts me. She wants to feel secure, who am I to take that away from her? I nod my head and watch as her shoulder slump in relief. She draws me in for a soft chaste kiss on the mouth, but I’m not in for a peck and go. I pull on her shirt to draw her closer to my body. 

Tugging at her hair, closing the distance until there’s nothing but hair’s width between us, I delve my tongue into her mouth, desperate to taste her. She hums low in her throat, a breathy sigh escaping as her fingers clutch my jacket. God damn, this feels good. 

Our tongues wrestle for power and I feel as if my heart may explode in my chest. The only thing wrong with Kate is that I can’t seem to get enough of her. Her taste is intoxicating. 

Kate pulls away. “I don’t know why,” she pants, tilting her face upward, those gorgeous eyes on mine. “I trust no one, and I mean no one, but I trust you to keep me safe. Please tell me I’m not wrong to trust you. Please just give me one night of trusting someone.”

I pull her back, peck her gently on the lips. “Get on.” She hops up behind me, her little tits pressed into my back as she puts on her helmet. 

My dick is as hard as a rock, and it’ll be an uncomfortable ride back to my place with her pressed against me and my junk crushed against the gas tank, but I’ll gladly take that over nothing. She places her arms around my waist, circling them low — lower than before, her fingers resting right at the button of my jeans. I lean back to give her better access, and tell her to hang on. 

This girl gets to me like no one’s business, and it scares the living shit out of me.

I’ve had some pretty loose women in my truck but I’ve never — repeat — never had a woman on my bike. 

It’s mine. My freedom. I don’t share it at all, mainly because I don’t want the hassle of worrying if they hang on. Most are too drunk before we get back to their place, plus the bike is really only meant for one person unless you want really tight quarters. In the long history of me wanting to get into a girl’s pants, Kate is the first one to ever make me feel like a pussy whipped schoolboy. 

Her helmet is pressed against my shoulder, her chest against my back, and every now and then she gives me a firm caress along my dick, causing me to gun the throttle a bit more than I’d meant to. Her hands roam the entire time, for fuck sakes — exploring my chest, running along the seam of my jeans at the waistband, then dipping just a bit lower to cup my cock. I’m dying to pull over and have my way with her before we reach my place, but I’m holding my shit together — by a thin thread, but together none the less. To be truthful, it’s one of the fastest trips I’ve ever made back to my house, as the fifteen-minute drive from the Brew became nine. 

I pull up to the gate, punch in the code and wait for the doors to pull back. I gun it up the driveway towards the house, pulling off towards the front of the garage. It’s not a big place by any means, but it’s mine. I’d worked my ass off to earn this house. 

When I left New York as a kid I had nothing, and I swore that would never happen again. Jack may have taught me how to hide money, but he didn’t give me anything of worth. Growing up, I still had nothing. No toys a kid my age would have, unless you count a junk four-barrel carburetor, that I’d rebuilt out of scraps. 

My place is off the grid. My mail still goes to the shop, and I keep away from all the bullshit. I don’t want to be in any of it.  

Parking at the double garage doors, taking my helmet off and leaving the bike running, I turn around to face Kate. “Off ya’ get.” 

The door swings open and she moves to the side as I pull the bike in, parking it beside my truck. Shutting it off, I look over. Standing stock-still staring out into the darkness, Kate worries her hands in front. 

Walking up to her, lightly placing my hand on her visor, I flick it up. “I’m gonna take the helmet off, sweetheart. We’re here.” She turns her eyes up, looking distant. I undo the strap under her chin, easily  lifting it off  of her petite head, and pet her hair back down. “Come on. I think you need a drink. Something stronger than coffee.” 

Kate looks me in the eye, nods, and purses her lips. As I disarm the alarm on the pad and lead her down the hall to the kitchen, Kate’s movements are mechanical. 

“It’s not much, but it has all I need,” I tell her as I pull two glasses from the shelf, ice from the cooler, and both the mix and whiskey from the fridge. There’s a bit of quick protein in there, and of course the cupboard has the same staple crackers that all men can pull a meal together with in a pinch. 

“I don’t get visitors, so I’m sorry. I don’t have anything to offer you. Unless you like peanut butter and soda crackers.” 

I motion for her to take a seat. Pulling it out and sitting, she peers across the counter as I make the drinks. “I hope you like bourbon, I’m not much of a beer guy.” She gives me a small smile, but says nothing. “Single or double?” I ask as I pour myself a double. Kate signals two fingers, silently watching as I pour our drinks. 

“Say something please,” I ask as I’m adding in the cubes. “I can’t handle silence. It always feels forced.” 

“Why?” 

Passing her the filled glass, lifting the sweet liquid to my mouth I ask, “Why what?”

“Why me? Why you? Why them? Why now? Why us?” Kate spews out in quick succession, tipping back her glass, and drinking down the contents in a single gul[. 

“Another?” I ask with a chuckle. 

She sliding the glass across the granite towards me. “Yes. Please.” 

“So which am I answering? What is it you want to know?” I refill the cup as lonely ice tinkles around. 

“I’ve hid out for almost twenty years. First with WITSEC then alone. I did everything I could to avoid them. They found me when I wasn’t careful, but this time it’s different. I found them and ended up running right into their arms, didn’t I?” I know she’s talking about the brothers, the ‘family’, and she’s right. If she’s been hiding all this time, then why is she here? 

Taking a deep breath, I hand her back the now refilled glass and answer the only way I can; with honesty. “You did, but I will keep you safe. For some fucked up reason, I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

She looks up from the drink, swirling around the blocks, and gazes directly at me. “Why would you? You’ll be in a heap of trouble if you help me.”

For a moment I’m speechless. Why she asks? Why indeed? “Tell me the truth. Let me decide what I’m helping with.”