Concealed Force

Chapter 11

She'd spent the whole night thinking about the opportunity. In just a few hours she might be free. She imagined running into a hotel lobby, finding this Vince person, the police arriving, her parents waiting... Was it stupid that she felt like she was losing something? That the thought of Reid in this motel room without her gave her a pang of sadness?

Yes. Very stupid. This was her chance to get home. Reid was just some criminal who'd partly hindered and mostly helped her. So what if he was the hottest guy she'd ever seen, and that she would regret not getting closer to him for the rest of her life? He was never meant to be someone she even met, let alone slept with. Their worlds were absolute opposites.

What she had to concentrate on was the escape, being fast enough, sharp enough to get away. But every time she thought of running, she imagined being caught, imagined sprinting away and finding one of the gang behind her, tripping, landing hard, smashing into the concrete sidewalk, being dragged back to the compound.

When the time came to leave she almost begged Reid to keep her here, her nerves were so frayed. He'd got her a jacket, a beautiful thing in dark red leather, and borrowed a helmet, which he carefully positioned on her head, checking it fit, smoothing her hair, his fingers on the skin of her neck. She felt cherished, which was stupid. And she wanted to cry, which was stupider.

"Wait for the opportunity," he said. "And, in case I don't get a chance to say it. Good luck." He leaned forward and she thought he was going to kiss her on the forehead, but he took a quick breath and moved away. "Let's go."

With the jeans and jacket she felt more dressed than she had for days and it was strange to have so much fabric covering her body as she walked down to the bikes.

In the courtyard lots of people had gathered, putting on their gear and yelling to each other. Laura caught sight of Alyssa, hanging on to the back of a big guy on an even bigger bike, her bright hair streaming out from under a helmet as the rider zoomed off through the gates.

Reid led Laura to an older-looking bike, less shiny. She remembered him saying it had been in storage and needed fixing, and it looked like it hadn't had that much love. But he handled it like it was a living thing, a faithful old animal, something he owed kindness. A little like the way he treated her, she supposed.

"Get on," he said, putting on a helmet and patting the saddle behind him. And she awkwardly swung a leg over the seat. Before she could get settled, he tugged her arms hard on either side of his waist, pulling her against his back.

"Hold tight to my waist. Tighter than that. You got to hold me, not my jacket. Okay?"

She tightened her arms, sliding her hands over his hard stomach, trying to keep her breathing even so he wouldn't guess how the feel of him affected her. He turned something on the handlebar, and pushed his foot down on a pedal and the bike roared to life, vibrating under them before they swung out behind the other riders.

He was right about it feeling free. The wind picked up the ends of her hair, and the movement of the bike felt like it was an extension of them, an organic rush into the landscape. Once they were out on the highway she found she could ease her hold a little and relax into the ride, but she kept her body pressed against his back, wishing she could rest her cheek on the warm leather of his jacket.

It was strange being able to hold him like this, having permission to hang on to his powerful body. He was so vital, and masculine, unlike anyone she'd ever known. Full of the promise of violence, but also of kindness, protection.

And she needed to touch him, to prove he was real, to try and make sense of his role in her extraordinary new life. A life that might soon be coming to an end. She wished she could have touched him in the privacy of their room, but he was so careful not to let his skin even brush against hers.