“That’s what you think,” Theo laughed, grabbing her ass and pulling her closer.
She ducked from out of his grip and stomped off. Fury burned inside my chest, and only Mack’s strong arms on my shoulder kept me in my seat.
Without a word, Mack, Chase, and Coyote pulled me from my seat and out of the diner.
“Later,” Chase whispered in my ear. “Not now.”
Once in the parking lot, I pulled my arms out of their grip. Without a second thought, I walked over to the Las Balas bikes. Pulling out my knife, I slashed each of their tires. The destruction helped ease the rage pumping in my veins, but only just a little. Come hell or high water, I was going to kick that piece of shit’s ass.
Stalking back to my bike, I swung my leg over the seat and kicked the engine into a roar. Looking up, I met Emma’s shocked turquoise gaze. She had, apparently, taken a few moments of refuge outside the diner and had witnessed my complete destruction of the Las Balas tires.
Nodding, I gave her a warm smile and roared out of the parking lot. I hadn’t been in Seattle for more than an hour, and things had already gotten extremely interesting. I couldn’t wait to tell Ryder that I may have found something worth fighting for.
Four
Emma
Stretching my arms over my head, I breathed a sigh of relief. I had finally finished my very last exam of the semester. I only had one more semester to go before I received my degree, but it didn’t start for a few weeks. I relished the opportunity to rest and reset. I had chosen to get a Bachelor’s in English with a minor in Marketing. The sheer amount of writing and reading that went into each course was overwhelming at best, but I was determined to finish. I grew up in the foster system, so just finishing college was a huge accomplishment. I had no idea what I was going to do with my degree once I got it, but that was a problem for later. Getting the degree was the first step.
Sighing, I looked around me for the first time in a couple of hours. I was at the local library, which had been nearly empty when I arrived. In the time it took me to write several essays, the building had acquired a few more patrons. Some were browsing the long rows of books while others were on the computers clicking away at social media and search engines.
I was surprised at the lack of people. Usually, the library was bustling on a Saturday afternoon. Glancing out a nearby window, I grimaced at the shining sun. Sunlight was a rare commodity in Seattle, so most people were probably out enjoying it, despite the cold weather.
I gathered my notes up and shoved them into my bag, feeling restless and tense all of a sudden. My shoulders itched, and I felt like I was being watched. Frowning, I looked around me again. I swept my gaze over the empty stacks in the corner, and I did a double-take.
Rex was leaning against a bookshelf, his eyes staring at me with the same fiery intensity he had the other night. My body immediately caught fire in the most frustrating way. Clearing my throat, I threw my bag over my shoulder and walked toward him. It wasn’t as if I could pretend I didn’t see him.
As I got closer, he walked back down the aisle to a table tucked in a corner completely out of sight of the rest of the patrons. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone with him, but it was too late to turn back now. Hooking his foot under one of the chairs, he pulled it out and sat down.
“You don’t strike me as the library type,” I told him, coming to a stop in front of him.
He raised one eyebrow and stretched his arms behind him, resting his hands at the back of his head. Wrapping his feet around the legs of his chair, he pushed the front two off the ground, leaning back. He looked completely relaxed and at ease. If it weren’t for the primal heat radiating from his hooded eyes, I would wonder if he was bored.
“What makes you say that?” he asked.
He kept his deep voice pitched low, either out of respect for the other patrons around us or because he knew that it made my legs weak and my pussy wet. I was ninety percent certain it was the latter. His smirk was way too confident for him to not know the effect he had on me.
“You’re a dangerous biker,” I said, shrugging. “I doubt you have much time to read in between the stealing, violence, and general mayhem your clubs are responsible for.”
He let his chair fall back down with a soft thud and pierced me with his emerald green eyes.
“You forgot killing,” he said, flashing me a dangerous grin.
My spine tingled with excitement and fear as I sucked in my breath, but before I could think of a response, Rex slipped his feet out in front of him. When I had stopped in front of him, I had thought myself at a safe distance, but I hadn’t counted on his legs being so long. He trapped me in between them, using their strength to pull me closer.
“You’re making fun of me,” I said, clearing my throat.
“Maybe, maybe not,” he said, amused. “I’m a biker. I can’t be trusted.”
“No,” I snapped. “I guess not.”
I wasn’t sure how we got here. All I knew was that he was either trying to frighten me or he was making fun of me. I didn’t like either option, although I wasn’t sure what I expected. He was a biker. Just because he could make my heart jump and my legs go all wobbly with a single look didn’t mean he was any different than all the others. In fact, his effect on me made him a hundred times more dangerous than any of the other bikers. Dangerous because I actually liked Rex.
“What exactly have I done to make you hate me so much, Emma?” Rex asked me, his voice serious.
“I don’t hate you,” I answered, pushing out of his legs. “I actually like you.”
“And that’s a problem?” he asked, releasing me.
I stumbled back, catching myself on the flat end of the bookshelf behind me. My purse slipped off my shoulder, spilling my notes and pens onto the floor. I had a couple of dozen different colored pens that I carried around with me, so I could use whatever color suited my mood at the time. Over half had spilled onto the floor. Swearing, I bent to pick them up.
“Yes,” I answered, snatching up my pens and shoving them into my purse before moving to the papers that had scattered, not that I needed them anymore.
“Why?” he asked.
“Why what?” I asked, distracted and only half-listening. I really didn’t want to lose any of my pens.
“Why is liking me a problem?” he persisted.
“Because I’m not interested in getting hurt, emotionally or physically,” I answered, standing and counting my pens. I was two short.
I was too distracted with my pens to see the shocked look on his face, which meant I didn’t see him stand. Before I knew it, I was pressed against the wall behind me, and my pens were completely forgotten. He leaned in close, with his hands on either side of my head and his gaze searing into me, pinning me in place. I swallowed, my mind briefly wondered what it would feel like to run my hands down his strong biceps and across his chest before snaking them around his neck and—no! Those kinds of thoughts were not good. Not now. Not ever.
“Who?” Rex asked, in a heated whisper. His voice had taken on a dangerous edge.
“What?” I frowned, confused.
“Who hurt you? Who dared to lay a hand on you?”