Chapter 7

Beggar

The wind is blowing through my hair, the guy whose name is Storm, is driving like this is his last ride, and I love it. I'm glad I didn't chicken out, and gladder that I'm going to have a hot bath and hot meal when we arrive at this Clubhouse, he told me about.

He said I'm one of them now. Storm said that I’ll never have to be hungry again. It’s crazy that I agreed, but his brown kind eyes told me he was certain that he’ll take care of me and I believe him.

For the first time, I believe someone besides my mother and It's stupid, I know. But somehow, I feel lighter. I've never felt lighter, ever.

I didn't get to see Falon’s boyfriend nicely, but the guy is tall and imposing. I'm scared of him. When his gaze tracked me from across the road at Lazers I just wanted to wither under his scrutiny.

He probably thought I didn't notice but I did.

I watched him from the corner of my eyes as he stood across the road surrounded by his people.

He was staring at me, and it made me feel like he was a hunter and I, his prey.

Doesn't he know that prey never wants to get caught?

But Storm has a warmth that I choose to trust. I saw interest spark in his gaze, it wasn't sexual but more curiosity and then understanding, when I asked,

“Do I have to hold you and shit?”

I Inked that down to a good thing. He didn't mask his face, he didn't look down on me, but showed me that he understood. And I knew I'd be safe with him.

Truth is, I was hungry and cold, so fucking cold. After I saved the girl, and her boyfriend swiped the gun, something told me that I was going to have to go with these people, even if Falon hadn't insisted.

There was no way her boyfriend was leaving me. I was going willing or not. I had a choice to make, I could go willingly and get treated well or I could go by force, and they’ll spit on me and treat me like crap.

I chose the logical route, willingly, and I'm glad, especially since this guy named Storm is taking me on a ride of my life.

We stop at a gas station, about sixty miles away from Washington D.C. The bikes all park in one of the four gas lines. My arms are still snug around Storm’s waist, my legs shaky and itchy.

I can just imagine what people in cars must be thinking seeing all these big machines moving together. I wonder if it keeps them up at night?

The lights in the garage are bright, even with the helmet on.

I've never been out at night, normally I'm out cold by now, or somewhere hidden. There's this weird feeling to it, I can't even explain it.

These bikers are obviously naturals to the call of the night.

I watch Falon and her boyfriend climb off his motorcycle together and head for the garage shop hand in hand.

My stomach grumbles at the thought of what they going to buy, reminding me I haven't eaten since this morning.

I lost out on that hot meal now.

Guess I'm just going to have to stick it out until I get to this Clubhouse.

After our tank is filled, Storm taps my thigh causing me to jerk, and my heart rate to spike.

I don't like it when men touch me.

I don't like it when they touch my thighs especially.

I want to run.

My instincts are telling me to jump off, but my brain is telling me stay, they aren't a danger to me. There are too many witnesses for Storm to do anything. I start shaking and Storm immediately gets off the motorcycle.

My body starts to shiver, vision darkening.

I focus on his helmet coming off his head. I watch his stubble jaw and thick brows covering his light brown gaze.

There's a twinkle that is close to a smile tugging his lips as his eyes dance in humor.

“I don't like to be touched.” I croak pulling the helmet off.

As force of habit, I slip my hood over my head.

It's going to be a hard habit to break when I get to their Clubhouse. Let's hope they don't mind it too much.