I hold back a frustrated scream and take a deep breath before climbing to my feet. He just watches me with that stupid cocky smile as I walk towards him while dusting off my dress and plaster a smile on my face. His eyes drop to my lips before flashing back up to meet my gaze, just as I reach his motorcycle. He doesn’t know that I was partially born to ride, he only knows I’m pretty handy with stealing a car. I’m not surprised one bit that the beat up Ferrari isn’t in the driveway, already taken care of. I think I’ll keep my secrets close to my chest until I need to use them for my revenge. I’ll catch them all by surprise.
“Get on, little bitch.” His smirk widens as the guys pull out of the driveway and it’s just the two of us.
Placing my hand on his broad shoulders, I swing my leg over the seat behind him and plaster my body against his back with my thighs molded to his. My arms wrap around his waist, playing with the hem of his t-shirt and feeling his abs ripple under my fingers. A man can’t resist the heat a woman can bring, the comfort of a body. That’s what Doris told me at least. Give them what they want, let them think they have all the power, and then crush them. With my dress hiked up to my hips, he has to feel the warmth I’m radiating because almost as if he can’t control himself, he reaches back to slide his calloused hand up and down my thigh.
The engine rumbles underneath us, the familiar feeling giving me a spark of excitement and makes me miss my crotch rocket. I wonder if anyone has found it in the desert yet and if they are scrambling? I hope I never find out.
“Hold on. You might want to tighten your grip, don’t want you falling off. Although this one time, we chained up a guy, for trying to kill Logan, to the back of my bike and I drove for an hour straight. He was almost unrecognizable by the time I stopped. Are you into that type of stuff? That’s what we do with anyone that crosses us,” he shouts over his shoulder at me in a threatening tone. Trying to scare me, but the thing is I’ve seen that happen before.
The club wasn’t allowed to touch me without Payne’s consent. There were plenty of times I was groped, shoved to my knees in hidden corners, but I wasn’t raped again. Didn’t mean someone didn’t try. Cruz had a way of giving a warning that I was his property without even having to say a word. So I know what a man looks like from being dragged behind a motorcycle on asphalt. The skin peeled away like an orange, leaving the insides to spill out. Twisted limbs, missing body parts, and so much blood that you could drown in it. Nothing will ever surprise me again, but the fear will always be there, lurking around the corner, just waiting to snatch me up. I feel bile rise up my throat and my fingers clench his white shirt as I place my forehead against his back.
“You know... with me being on the back of your bike, does that mean I’m your old lady now? I didn’t know you felt this way,” I mutter just loud enough into the fabric of his shirt for him to hear me, sarcasm thick enough to cut through with a knife.
“Shut the fuck up for the rest of the ride.” His voice is full of disdain and he cuts off any reply I was dying to give by revving the engine, and speeding down the street at a neck breaking pace.
Well, fine then. Not like I wanted to talk to him anyways, but this did give me an insight into his mind. From what I gathered already, he has commitment issues. First, with the teacher and the display he gave me the first day we met, anyone could have walked in. Now, the two little wordsold ladymakes his entire body go rigid and stiff.
Maybe I’m going about this all wrong with him. I should try smothering him to death with affection, attach myself to his side because if there's one thing I know, it’s when you've never been shown any love and you finally have some… you crave it more than anything else in the world. He’s going to run, but I’m going to give him what he secretly wants, have him on my side then make him pay.
I might just be my father’s daughter after all.
My thoughts are dark and twisted. It’s what scares me the most, and keeps me up at night.
* * *
He parkshis motorcycle next to Logan and Nicky’s cars, shutting off the engine, and starts to stand but I cling to him like a spider monkey. My hands glide over his shirt, feeling the ridges and curves of his eight pack, and to be honest with myself I’m impressed. He freezes and quickly whips his head around to glance over his shoulder at me. I smile sweetly at him and hum under my breath in anticipation.
“God, you're so big all over.” I stare into his violet eyes and lick my lips slowly which draws his gaze right there like I wanted it to.
I move closer, pressing my breasts against his bicep and letting my lips barely touch his earlobe as I whisper in my most husky voice. “Think of me when you're with that teacher. Just remember who knows how to make it good for you.” I’m off the bike and walking fast across the school parking lot before he can stop me as he sits there frozen staring after me.
Score one for Tillie. Zero for Dalton.
I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me and I know he hears me because he starts swearing. Looking over my shoulder as I reach the double doors, I see him stomping across the lot with his gaze narrowed on me. It speaks of payback.
I went too far! Oh shit. Oh shit!
Swinging the door open quickly, I practically run into the school and start shoving people out of my way in the crowded hall as I look around frantically for an escape route. I shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have teased him like that so early in the morning. God knows what he’s going to do to me in public.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Little bitch!” Dalton roars, causing everyone to stop and stare as he heads towards me like an angry bull, ignoring the students that quickly jump out of his way.
A pair of familiar glasses catch my attention at the end of the hallway as he places his books in his locker. I’m thankful Evan is nerdy enough for me to pick him out in a sea of bodies. He’s even wearing a different Star Trek shirt. My very first friend and I’m already using him as a safety net. I’m a horrible person.
“Evan!” I bellow, waving my arm around like a limp noodle, no doubt looking like a loon as I pick up my pace to reach his side before Dalton catches me.
Evan looks up at his name being shouted, his brows wrinkled in confusion, like he’s wondering who the hell would be shouting his name when everyone seems to ignore him. I watch him adjust his black framed glasses just as his gaze collides with mine. His eyes widen as he glances over my shoulder and he quickly starts stuffing the rest of his books in his locker in panic, grabbing his book bag off the floor to swing over his shoulders with jerky movements, his hands are trembling. He better not ditch me! I’m going to need back up to face my big, bad scary biker. Wait...He’s not mine!
Get your head out of your ass, Tillie, and stick to the plan, don’t let them dig their way past the barrier you’ve taken years to build.I nod at myself, at my thoughts, and focus on my partner in crime.
“Evan, wait up!” I say breathlessly when I finally reach his side, panicking as I glance behind me to see Dalton staring, but his attention is otherwise occupied at the moment. Mrs. Sullivan comes prowling out of her classroom like the predator she is and steps in front of Dalton in red fuck me heels. As if it's not obvious enough, she starts stroking his bicep with her red fingernails and blocks his path. He doesn't even bother looking down at her, his gaze is firmly locked on mine promising retaliation.
“Dalton, if I could have a moment of your time. I'd like to go over something from that deep discussion yesterday,” Mrs. Sullivan mutters, in what I think is an attempt at a raspy voice, instead it sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Too whiney and breathless.
Evan grabs my elbow, swinging his gaze left and right, like he might get attacked on a battlefield any second, but snatches it away like he was burned as Dalton tries to step around Mrs. Sullivan. He gives Evan a hard glare that speaks of death.
“Dalton!” The hoe of a teacher actually stomps her foot, her grip unyielding on his arm so he has no choice but to follow her into her classroom.
