By the time she looked back up, the light flutter of butterflies in her belly had erupted into a violent swarm, mixing with the heat just gazing at him had conjured up. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she tried to breathe through it, the potent mix making her feel a little queasy.
When had someone ever made her feel something like this? Honestly, she didn’t think anyone ever had before. And for a biker to cause this reaction—someone so far out of her realm of experience, someone so far removed from the lifestyle she used to lead—well, it wasn’t anything she’d ever thought would happen to her.
It felt more than a little ridiculous to be so attracted to the intimidating stranger. If Shawn could hurt her and put her in the hospital so many times, there was no telling what a man like the one in front of her could do.
And she was about to enter a clubhouse full of men just like him. What the hell was she thinking? Yes, he’d saved her from her abusive ex, but that didn’t necessarily mean he’d taken her somewhere better. Why had she trusted him so easily?
Her breath caught as she realized how stupid she’d been to jump on the back of a stranger’s bike. Hell, to go anywhere with a stranger at all. She could have walked somewhere safe. Could have run to the bus station while she prayed there’d be a bus about to leave. She wouldn’t have cared where it went, so long as it took her out of this town and away from Shawn.
She hadn’t needed this stranger after he stopped Shawn; she’d been saving herself for six months. She wasn’t helpless anymore—but seeing her ex had pushed her right back into the mindset she’d been in while she was with him.
The helpless victim. The woman stupid enough to get involved with him in the first place, the one idiotic enough to stay with him even after he began hurting her—first emotionally and then physically.
The one who’d leave with a dangerous stranger just to get away.
Bolt was dangerous, there was no doubting that. He might have saved her, might have spoken to her gently, in an even tone that wasn’t threatening, but even if she hadn’t seen the gun he carried, she’d still be able to tell.
He carried an aura of danger around him that even the moronic woman Shawn had turned her into could clearly see. She couldn’t let herself forget that, no matter how sexy he was.
“You okay?”
Startling at Bolt’s gravelly voice, she blinked and glanced at him, realizing she’d been staring sightlessly at the clubhouse, clutching her bag until her knuckles turned white.
Forcing her fingers to release their death grip, she licked her lips nervously. “This probably wasn’t my best idea. Maybe you could take me to the bus station? Or I could walk,” she added hastily at his frown.
“The bus only comes through once a week. It won’t come again until Tuesday.”
Four days away. Just her damned luck. “Maybe I can get some tires from the garage to replace the flat ones then drive myself out.”
His frown deepened as he studied her eyes. “And risk him watching and following you out of town while you’re unprotected?”
Frustration washed over her. “Do you have a better idea? I can’t stay here. Not now that he found me.”
“Can’t stay in town? Or can’t stay here, at the clubhouse?”
Forgetting for a moment who and what he was, and that she should probably be scared—or at least, give him no reason to become angry with her—she threw her hands up with exasperation. “Both!”
Ana winced at how loud her voice came out, how her frustration with him was clearly evident, but his lips curled just a bit before his expression turned serious.
“You’re safe here, Ana,” he replied, his mouth curling around her name in a way that made a shiver of heat dance down her spine. “I promise you that. I can help you get out of town, but in the meantime, you’re completely safe at the clubhouse. You’re safe with me.”
“But… don’t you guys do, you know…”
He cocked an eyebrow, amusement flashing quickly in his hazel eyes. “Don’t we do what?”
Debating the wisdom of asking and knowing too much, or not asking and wallowing in ignorance, she exhaled, pushing the words out. “You know… illegal shit.”
She worried for a moment that he’d get mad because she came out and asked, but his lips curled again briefly, making her wish he’d give her a full smile. She only wanted to see it once. Just one time, and then she could be satisfied.
Then again, based on the heat flaring in her belly just from the little glimpse she got, she should probably be thanking her lucky stars that he hadn’t smiled fully. She might just have melted into a puddle of desire at his feet.
Jesus, who was she right now? This definitely wasn’t the Ana she knew.
Which might not necessarily be a bad thing, come to think of it. That Ana was an idiot—her involvement with Shawn was proof of that.
“We’re a motorcycle club, Anastasia,” he replied, making her weak in the knees when he used her full name. She’d never associate that with her upper crust lifestyle again—now it would forever remind her of this sexy, dangerous man whose rough voice made her shiver when he spoke. “Yes, we do illegal shit. I’ll leave it up to you go fill in the blanks and guess what that is. Know what we don’t do? We don’t hurt women. And we sure as fuck don’t stand around and do nothing while someone else hurts women. You’re safer in that clubhouse than you’ll be anywhere else on this planet, I promise you that.”
Bolt studied Ana’s wide blue eyes, waiting for her response. He meant every word, and he hoped she chose wisely—because he couldn’t let her leave. Not without a plan. Not without a way to escape the fucker who was
