Motorcycle Man(63)

He’d been coming for me. Maybe he was the perfect man.

“One of you belong to Chaos?” Hawk asked.

“Um… I think that would be me,” I answered.

Aunt Bette twisted her neck and looked at me through the two front seats.

From her look, I was seeing that during our Nordstrom’s talk I probably should have told her Tack was the president of a motorcycle club. However, I didn’t expect us all to be kidnapped and then have Tack, and what looked like the entire club, come to my rescue (after an unknown commando rescued us, that was).

I looked out the windows and saw the Harleys overtaking the SUV, three bikes closing in at the front, two positioning on each side of the SUV, more at the back. I saw brake lights on the Harleys that held Tack, Brick and Dog in front of us, all of them coming on simultaneously as if they had biker brainwave synchronicity.

“Fuck,” Hawk muttered on an annoyed growl, he slowed and moved to the narrow shoulder. He didn’t try to evade them. He just stopped, commanded, “Don’t move,” into the cab and knifed out.

I watched as he met Tack in front of the SUV. There was a boot to boot, nose to nose conversation that didn’t look happy. Then Tack’s head jerked to the SUV, Hawk’s head turned and he looked our way. Then he lifted his chin and Tack instantly moved away from him, prowling to my side.

I had my hand on the door handle but before I could open it, it was opened for me. Then I found myself yanked out to my feet, the door was slammed and I was shoved back against it.

I lifted my eyes to his face, about to throw my arms around his shoulders and maybe dissolve into tears or perhaps declare that I was falling in love with him again because he turned my world to color and he’d been coming for me when his hand weirdly lifted to wrap around the front of my throat like he was preparing to strangle me and all movement and declarations of love died at this aggressive gesture.

“They touch you?” he barked, his tone sharp with what I belatedly saw in his face.

Rage.

I shook my head fighting the urge to shrink back. “No, not really, they… they just… just, hooded me, made me go unconscious, bound me and put me in a room. They did something to Lanie though.”

With a quickness that stunned me, he let me go, jerked his head at Dog who was standing beside him and then I watched him round the back of the SUV. Dog had hold of me by my upper arm and was dragging me toward his bike but I had my head turned and I watched Tack open Lanie’s door and yank her out.

Uh… what?

Dog tugged me to a stop by his bike and threw a leg over it.

“Climb on,” he ordered.

I kept staring at Tack who was now dragging Lanie to his bike.

Why was he dragging Lanie to his bike? Brick or Dog could take care of Lanie. Tack was supposed to take care of me. Wasn’t he? I mean, just that morning he’d declared me his woman. Didn’t he?

“Cherry, climb on,” Dog repeated but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Tack who was already on his bike, and Lanie, who was climbing on behind him.

“Cherry…”

I looked back at the SUV in time to see Hawk driving away with Aunt Bette who was giving me a sharp look incongruously mixed with a finger wave.

“Hey,” I whispered, feeling the need to say something like “thanks” to Hawk or “where the hell are you taking my aunt” but not able to get anything more out and not knowing what the hell was happening.

“Cherry, get your ass on my bike,” Dog demanded, my head swung back just in time to see Tack, with Lanie on his bike, arms tight around his middle, cheek to his shoulder, take off on a roar.

Bile filled my throat.

“Cherry –”

My eyes sliced to Dog.

“Right,” I murmured then I climbed on the back of Dog’s bike.

Chapter Fifteen

Three Hours