see a broad guy twice my width in the shoulders with a belly like Father Christmas cringing at Spider as if he expects him to strangle him.
Spider makes an angry noise in his throat. “Striker,” he drawls.
“Hey, it’s not my fault.” Striker grins, stroking the bike’s leather seat with an astounding fondness I’ve only ever known men to show for a vehicle. “She’s always been temperamental.”
“You need a new ride. We’re hours behind schedule as it is.” Spider fires me an accusing look at his side.
“No way. I’m not ready to give up on her. This girl’s got a lot of life left in her.”
I giggle behind my hand, and Striker winks at me.
Spider growls under his breath.
“How much is this gonna cost me?” Striker asks the mechanic.
I don’t hear the reply because Spider has seized my hand and started out of the small garage. He pulls me across the lot, empty except for his and Rat’s bikes, a pickup truck I assume belongs to the mechanic, and a tow truck. I do hear Striker give a loud whistle.
“A bite to eat sounds good, Spider, I’m starving,” Rat says, waiting astride his bike. “I bet she’s hungry too.” He gestures to me.
My stomach gives an embarrassing rumble. Spider looks back at me.
“Can we, please? I haven’t eaten since last night.”
“Fine,” Spider snaps. “Striker! Move your ass!”
Spider pulls me over to his bike. I look over my shoulder. Striker is talking to the mechanic, by the sound of it haggling over the price of the repairs.
Spider swings onto his bike and I follow. Striker looks longingly at his bike and then says something to the mechanic about her being worth it.
Striker trudges past us. He turns to Spider, walking backwards. “Guess I’ll meet you there, guys.” He heads for the restaurant across the street.
I glance between Spider and the other two men, confused. “Why doesn’t he just ride with Rat?”
Spider and Rat both throw back their heads and laugh as if I’ve told a joke. Spider pats my thigh. “Not in our world, sweetheart.”
“I don’t understand.”
Rat shakes his head, putting on a pair of goggles. “Guys don’t ride bitch, girlie.”
Before I can come up with a good reply to this baffling remark, both men start up their bikes.
I have a feeling it’s going to be a long time before I ever understand or fit into Spider’s world.
A few minutes later, we pull up at a small restaurant off the side of the road, and Spider takes his helmet off my head. The temperature has already started to cool. It’s still hot, but it’s bearable now. The restaurant is nearly empty, with only a few cars in the lot. A few people are visible through the front window sitting at the tables.
The truth is, though I am hungry, I’ve been waiting for an excuse to get a minute alone to see what’s in that wallet. Not many people carry cash, but that kidnapper might have.
“What?” Spider tips my head up, taking me out of my dangerous thoughts and looking closely at me.
Heck. My distraction must have showed on my face.
I shake my head, hoping he won’t press.
He gives me a shrewd look but doesn’t ask again.
On the way across the lot, he sets his hand on the back of my neck.
“We’re going to be here a while waiting for that bike to be fixed.” His voice is low and full of warning in my ear. “Behave yourself, Wildcat. Eat and keep your mouth shut. People here know who we are and what we’re capable of. Understand?”
It’s the same warning he gave me before we went into the garage. If there was any doubt that I need to escape, it’s gone now.
When I don’t answer quickly enough, lost in my racing thoughts, his fingers pinch.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I hiss sullenly, any hope of pulling a waitress aside or slipping someone a “help me” note vanishing.
“Good girl,” he adds in a normal, pleasant voice, slinging his arm around me the way he did at the truck stop earlier that day. I fire an admiring look up at him and suppress a growl under my breath.
When we walk in, every head turns. The customers and a couple of waitresses stare at us, then quickly look away. The nervousness in the room is palpable. The woman behind the counter blinks, her eyes go straight to the cuts the men are wearing, and her face pales.
Striker gives her a broad smile, and her cheeks go pink as