Page 64 of StoryTeller's Tale

When he releases me, I remember where I am, and glance around, hoping no one is staring at me. While I see nothing to worry me, I do notice there’s a group of people coming in the door and that our table is probably needed.

“What do we do now?” I ask, remembering he’d suggested finding a place to stay and hoping that’s still in the cards.

“Babe, that phone call earlier… That was my prez reminding me I need to show my face at the Austin clubhouse. They lent me a bike for a start.”

I’m glad that green monstrosity wasn’t his. “When do you need to go?”

“There’s no time like now.”

“Okay.” I feel disappointed that his plans have changed, but I suppose if his prez tells him to do something, he has no choice. “Can you drop me off at a motel or something?”

“You fuckin’ what?” Rather than angry, Jake looks perplexed. “You’re coming with me.”

I gesture no. “It’s not even your own club, Jake. You have no idea what these men are like. And what if you want to go with a sweet butt? I’ll only cramp your style.”

His eyes widen. For a moment, he looks confused, then he laughs. “I presume you got your info from the fuckin’ books you said you always have your nose in.”

So what if I have? They conned me, though. They painted a rosier picture than real life.

“I won’t be going with any sweet butt, babe. Not now I’ve got you at my side.”

I’m not sure I believe him, but I think of another objection. “What am I going to do if you’re called into church?”

“Church?” He outright belly laughs now. “You’ve certainly got all the lingo. Look, Austin isn’t my club, babe. I doubt if I’ll be sat round their table.” He runs a hand over his long hair, holding it back in a ponytail for a moment before letting it drop. “I can’t deny the Texas lot are a rough bunch, and you might see things you’d rather not. But no one is going to lay a hand on you.” All mirth has gone from his face as he takes my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Don’t forget the reason why I’m here, babe. Knuckles has been seen around, which means there’s no way in hell I’m leaving you unprotected.”

There’s one thing he knows nothing about, and my last bastion of hope now. “I’m not a sociable person, Jake.”

Raising his hand, he sweeps hair back from my brow, and he stares at me for a long moment. “I think it’s time you come out of the shadows, babe.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

STORYTELLER

Come out of the shadows,I’d told her.

It’s obvious she’s been hiding all her life. That story she’d told me made me feel like I’d been punched in the gut. No wonder she doesn’t know her own value. What fucking parents would admit they had her, just as an abortive attempt to save the favoured child? That’s fucked up. Her stepmom sounds like a selfish unfeeling bitch, and as for her stepsister? The only thing I’d ever give her is a piece of my mind.

Sheri’s fucking gorgeous, yet hasn’t got a clue how attractive she is. There’s a spark I see in her. I think she’s got a backbone, a side of her that life had her too cowed to allow to come out.

Can she cope with my Texan brothers? I fucking hope so. If not, it doesn’t bode well for our future. It’s not as if I’ve any choice. I’ve been summoned to their clubhouse, and, if nothing else, I’ve got to take back that borrowed bike.

I wasn’t being unfair when I reminded her Knuckles was around. He’s in the same city, and that’s too close as far as I’m concerned. At the clubhouse, surrounded by men wearing the same patch as me, she’ll be protected, and I really don’t want to let her out of my sight.

“Come on.” I stand. As I’ve still got hold of her hand, I pull her up with me.

“I don’t know about this.”

“Trust me.” Placing the helmet on her head, I tighten the strap. When I see her eyeing the pillion seat with distaste, I can’t blame her. Once she gets on my Fat Boy, she’ll have all the comfort she needs. “Just hold on to me. I promise I’ll take it easy.”

Once on the bike, I make sure the passenger foot pegs are still in place and, this time, encourage her to step on the left one to give her a boost up, making it easier to swing her leg. The bike dips as she settles on it, and I hold it steady, taking a moment as I’d done before to adjust to the extra weight. When I start the engine, her hands come around my waist in a death grip. Easing out the clutch, I pull away as smoothly as possible, having regard for my precious cargo and her precarious perch on the back.

I’ve travelled through Texas a time or two over the years, and this is far from the first time I’ve stopped off at the Austin clubhouse. While the route’s not that familiar, my memory serves me well enough, and I’m soon heading in the right direction that will take me to my destination.

We leave the city, heading into the outskirts and a more industrial area. This time in the evening, I notice it’s fairly deserted. I’m concentrating on where I’m going, and the feel of Sheri on the bike, noting she’s not relaxing, even though she must be growing more familiar with riding. Suddenly there’s a sound I recognise, and the breath of air whistling past my ear tells me a bullet has missed us by inches.

Fuck.

Turning my head, I see a Jeep approaching fast.

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