Mature Content 17+ || Savage Wolves MC Book Three
Talia's been through hell and back. After suffering at the hands of Dmitri Petrov and his band of goons, she was left broken and ruined.
But, she isn't going to let that stop her from being the woman...
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•Ryder•
I don't want Talia to have to drive alone, especially with tears in her eyes, so I make the decision for her and stick my helmet on her head, pulling her onto the back of my bike. Kitty's car will be fine. I'll send a prospect over to come collect it when we get back to the clubhouse.
She doesn't need to be alone. Her tears have stopped but I can see she's trying to be strong. Maybe seeing Athena wasn't the best idea. Maybe it was too much for her to handle right now. It's been a year and she's come so far, but the way she broke down in my arms when we got far enough away from the entrance to the restaurant makes me realize she may still be hurting more than she's been leading on.
I know she's going to therapy. When was the last time she went? I'll have to talk to her about that and try and convince her to go back.
When she's pressed against my back and I know she's holding on tight, I start my bike and drive out of the parking lot and into the late afternoon traffic. I'm still reeling from my conversation with Talon. Consoling Talia and worrying about her hasn't obscured what just happened between me and my brother.
There's two things I know about what Talon has been up to: he's getting better, and he's with a woman. A woman that's making him better? It what way? Is it a romantic relationship or strictly professional? Like a doctor patient situation; except, she didn't sound much like a doctor. I don't know any doctors who favor meditating in a tent over prescribing anti-depressants.
I wonder where he's been and can only hope he is willing to open up about his time away when he inevitably comes back. If he comes back. There's still that nagging voice in the back of my head that tells me he might stay gone for good. Just entertaining that thought causes my chest to tighten with fear and agitation. I hate that it makes me angry, too. I hate that I feel like he's being selfish. We need him. He's our brother. We love him.
Knowing he's picked some random woman in a godforsaken tent over his family shouldn't hurt me the way it does.
I take a deep breath, letting the wind whip against my face. I'm craving a cigarette but I'm riding too fast through the city. It'd more than likely fly right out of my fingers. With my helmet on Talia's head instead of mine, my hair blows every which way and I pull it into a short bun at the back of my head at the next red light.
"Hot," Talia says into my ear and digs her hands into my sides, sliding her heat against my lower back. The car next to us—filled with a family of four, including a teenage boy—stare with rapt attention as Talia's hands roam over my sides and chest. The mother's cheeks are red with fury, the fathers eyes have bulged out of his head, the daughter doesn't seem to know what's happening, but the son can't take his eyes off the dark haired vixen I have clinging to my back.
