"You're bleeding," she repeats, reaching up to touch the cut above my eye with gentle fingers. "And you need stitches."
Her touch is warm, professional. Nurse's hands, trained to heal instead of hurt. The contrast between her gentleness and the violence still singing in my veins is almost overwhelming.
"Luna," I start, not sure what I'm going to say. Some kind of explanation, maybe. An apology for bringing this shit to her doorstep.
"We'll talk later," she says firmly. "Right now, you need medical attention, and those sirens are getting closer."
She's right. The cops will be here in minutes, and while I'm not particularly worried about Sheriff Tom, having Luna connected to this fight won't do her any favors in a town where reputation is everything.
"Torch," I call, not taking my eyes off Luna's face. "Everyone mount up. We're leaving. Now."
"What about you?" Torch's question is really asking if I need backup, if this is about to escalate further.
"I'm coming." I glance at Luna, making a split-second decision that goes against every protocol I've established. "Luna, youneed to come with us or you'll be stuck explaining to the cops why seven Iron Eagles are unconscious on your front lawn."
She crosses her arms, stubborn tilt to her chin. "I'll only go if you tell me everything. What this was about, who those men were, what I've walked into. And I'm not getting on any bike until I take care of that cut above your eye before it swells shut."
"Luna, we don't have time—"
"Then make time. This needs pressure and ice, or you'll be fighting blind next time. And something tells me there will be a next time."
Beast clears his throat. "King, we really need to move."
The sirens are getting louder, maybe one or two minutes away. I should grab Luna and throw her on the back of my bike whether she likes it or not. Should prioritize the club's safety over whatever complicated feelings this woman is stirring up.
Instead, I find myself nodding. "You've got sixty seconds to patch me up, then we're gone. Torch, Beast, and Rage, get ready to roll."
Luna's already pulling a tissue from her pocket, pressing it firmly against the cut. "This is going to hurt later."
"Everything hurts later," I tell her, but I'm not talking about the fight.
"Everything," she agrees quietly. "But some things are worth it."
The first police cruiser appears at the end of the block. Luna steps back, her makeshift bandage already soaked red but doing its job.
"Time's up," Torch calls out.
Luna looks at the approaching cops, then back at me. "Do I have your word? That you'll tell me everything?"
"You have it."
She nods once, sharp and decisive. "Then let's go."
Chapter 4 - Luna
The moment I wrap my arms around King's waist, I know I've crossed a line I can never uncross.
I've never ridden a motorcycle before. Never felt the rumble of an engine between my thighs or the heart-stopping acceleration that pushes you back against the seat. Never experienced the particular intimacy of pressing myself against a virtual stranger, my body molded to his back like we're two pieces of the same puzzle.
And what a back it is. King is massive. Solid muscle wrapped in leather, and my arms barely meet around his torso. I can feel the strength in him, the coiled power that I just witnessed unleashed against those men. The same hands that crushed bones and broke faces are now guiding the motorcycle, protecting me even as we weave through Blackwater Falls at speeds that make my heart race.
The adrenaline makes everything move in disconnected flashes. The wind tearing at my hair. The blur of buildings as we pass. The rumble of other motorcycles flanking us. Torch, Beast, Rage, forming a protective perimeter around their leader. The smell of leather and cologne and something darker that might be King's blood.
His blood. Because he was fighting. Because those men came to hurt him and I was standing right there when it happened.
What have I gotten myself into?
Three days ago I was in Seattle, living my normal, quiet life as an ER nurse. My biggest problems were student loans and a mother who wouldn't return my calls. Now I'm on the back of a motorcycle with a man who just put seven people in the hospital, fleeing the police, heading God knows where.
