for how long, I don’t know. The GTO is at the shop, so look after her for me, okay? As soon as I’m ready to leave, I’ll dump this phone and pick up a couple of burners. There’s a convenience store nearby that sells them and it's open twenty-four hours.”
“What about money? Do you need some? You won’t be able to touch your bank while you’re in Vegas without sending up a red flag,” he warns.
“I know, and that’s why I drove around for about two hours, hitting up as many ATMs as I could find. I’ve drained my savings, but I have the cash to tide me over for a little while,” I tell him softly.
“Well, if you need more, call me and I’ll wire you some. The club can help with that. They have a club account they use so it won’t be traceable to you.”
“Thank you, Derek. For everything. I don’t even know what to say. You are the shit,” I swear reverently.
“Just be careful and stay hidden until this shit blows over. Want me to talk to your father for you? Or one of your brothers?”
Damn, this guy is killing me.
“Thanks, but I’d rather keep you out of this if I can. If you hide my car somewhere safe, I’ll take care of the rest. I have to go. I’ll call you when I get there. I assume you’ll let them know I’m coming? I’m not sure how they’ll feel about me bringing trouble to their door.”
“I’ll call them and explain everything. Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine. The boys are a bit rough around the edges, but don’t let that put you off. They are fiercely protective and they abhor violence toward women or children.”
I relax until he speaks again.
“That doesn’t mean they can’t be assholes, Reign. They are men, remember, so don’t be afraid to call them on it. They will protect you, but they don’t get to hold that protection over your head as a way to bend you to their will. I’m vouching for you, so that is all that matters.”
I nod and agree, remembering belatedly that he can’t see me. “Got it. Text me the directions and thanks again, Derek. I’ll call you later.”
“Stay safe,” he says before hanging up.
I let the tears fall freely then—tears of relief, anger, and fear. I purge them from my body, allowing myself this moment where nobody can see me or judge me. I need to fortify myself before I head to Vegas, and that means getting my emotions under control. I can’t walk into a biker compound as a nervous wreck, they’ll smell weakness and attack. I need to get some sleep and iron out the kinks in this plan. It’s time to stand up and take control. I am not the scared little girl my stalker is banking on.
I head to the convenience store and collect a couple of phones, checking over my shoulder about a hundred times to make sure I’m not being followed. I don’t feel safe until I’m back inside the car with the doors locked.
Passing by a darkened liquor store, I see a woman working the corner. I watch as she pushes her chest out and leans over the driver’s side window of a black Mercedes that pulls up beside her. She talks to the driver, hoping, I’m sure, that he’ll agree to be her john for tonight. It’s not the transaction taking place in front of me that has me staring as she climbs into the passenger seat of the car, or even seeing a hooker in the first place. It’s her outfit that has my attention—skintight black PVC pants and a red top that covers little more than a bra would.
I look down at my own outfit of jeans and a sweatshirt that is four sizes too big and sigh. I’ll need to dip into my cash for some wardrobe staples. Some stuff I have will work. I have plenty of pairs of jeans and T-shirts after all, but to truly blend in with a bunch of biker babes, I’m going to need to look the part.
If for some reason people are asked questions about me, I need them not to be able to remember me. To potential witnesses, I need to be just another girl dressed in the same slutty clothing as everyone else. I’ll be like every other club girl there, but if I dress too differently, I’ll stand out instead of blending