“You will drive my bike over my dead body.” Flat. Nope, more guttural than flat.
She shrugged. “Your funeral then?—”
“Agnes.”
She blinked. She also did a careful sweep of the street. Ah…there was the would-be attacker. Slumped outside. “Excuse me!” Agnes raised her voice as she shouted toward the bald and bearded biker. “You tried to kill a man tonight!”
He scuttled away. A fast scuttle for someone so large.
Sighing, she let go of the handlebars. She swung her body so that she no longer straddled the beautiful beast of a bike. “Excuse me,” Agnes signed because Cass was in her way. “But I am going to have chase after that man and arrest him.” She hated having to chase fleeing perps. So exhausting.
“For fuck’s sake,” Cass rasped. He reached out for her hips. Repositioned her on the bike so that once more, she was straddling the thing. “I’m not filing charges. You aren’t arresting him.
“You should press charges against him,” Agnes told Cass.
His jaw dropped. Then…booming laughter swept from him.
Her eyebrows snapped together. “That was not a joke.”
His hand slid across her thigh. “This skirt is too damn short.” He tried to haul the skirt down a few more inches.
It would not be hauled.
He swore.
She smiled. “Thanks for noticing the shortness. That was the whole reason I bought it.”
Because of the nearby street lamp, she could see that hard jaw of his as it locked.
“When you’re straddling me,” he continued in his rough and deep voice, “it’s gonna hike up way too far.”
When you’re straddling…Her mouth must have dropped open.
“Scoot back, Agnes,” he ordered. “Then lock your arms around me.”
Oh, he meant straddling him…on the bike. Not in bed. Sure. Check.
She’d hired a rideshare driver to drop her off at the bar, so she didn’t have her own transportation home. A deliberate choice because parking in that neighborhood could be a challenge. Unless, of course, you had a motorcycle. Like he did.
But she didn’t scoot back yet. “Do you seriously not want to press charges against your attacker?” Agnes asked. The attacker was gone, but if they gave chase right then?—
“I just kicked the shit out of him. MC justice. It’s over.”
She wasn’t so sure. “That was an attempted murder, an assault at the very least.”
He grunted. “Scoot. Back.”
Fine. She scooted back. After all, she did need a ride home. This would save her from having to use her app to get a driver back to the bar for a pickup.
Cass didn’t immediately settle in the seat in front of her. He glared more at her.
Agnes decided to keep talking. “Once you two got in that fun circle and started fighting, things got confusing, as least as far as who was the vic and who was the perp?—”
“He came at me with a table leg. I defended myself. Case closed.” He bent and unlocked the helmet that had been hooked to the motorcycle’s frame. A big, dark helmet. With his jaw locked, he plunked that helmet down on her head.
She smiled. “Safety first, huh?” She secured the chin strap. “I can appreciate that, but do you want to go borrow a helmet from someone else? That way, you’ll be covered, too?”
He took the small purse that she still had over one shoulder. She’d had that bag the entire time. Mostly because it contained some very necessary items. Like my gun. Though she hadn’t pulled the gun because Agnes hadn’t wanted to escalate the situation more than necessary. Cass took the bag and tucked her purse into one of the motorcycle’s saddle bags. Then he straddled the bike.
