That’s the problem with being a passenger princess. I almost never remember how to get anywhere.
At first, it’s not so bad.
That is, until the first car comes up behind me. I’m doing the speed limit, but the car seems to keep getting closer. My breathing speeds up, wondering if it is someone after me. My hands tighten on the steering wheel as they ride close to me for several miles. As soon as the coast is clear, the car hops over and passes me, making me feel relieved.
The drive is only twenty minutes, but each time a car approaches, I feel that same fear. Each time they pass me, I wonder why I am being so paranoid.
By the time I get to the bar, my nerves are shot. The need to see Asher rides me hard. I know as soon as I do, I will calm down.
Without a second thought, I leave everything in the car and sprint toward the door. I stop and take a quick breath, trying to pull myself together before I push on the door.
It doesn’t move.
I push again, but again it stays closed.
I knock, panic starting to set in.
No one answers.
A car drives by, and I realize how out in the open I am. No one is around. The bar is on a piece of land with no other businesses surrounding it.
This would be the perfect spot to kidnap someone.
Stumbling, I rush back to the car and lock the door. I can’t get myself to start the engine, though. All I can do is try to control my breathing.
The roar of motorcycles hits my ears, but it’s not relief I feel.
It’s debilitating fear.
The number of times I heard the same thing only for it to be the men who taunted me overrides the safety I feel at the clubhouse. Changing my environment changes how that one sound affects me.
I hate how it has me in a stranglehold.
When the bikes pull into the parking lot, I finally suck in a breath.
It’s not them.
The sound cuts off, but I still don’t move. I keep looking forward, trying not to embarrass myself.
Then there is a knock at my window, startling me.
“Aspen, baby. Open the door.” Asher’s voice pulls me out of my head.
I open the door without question and almost fall out of the car in my haste to get to him. He catches me, pulling me into his arms.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe,” he whispers.
“Get a room!” Yak yells out.
I tense, hating that anyone else is seeing me like this.
“Shut the fuck up, Yak,” Asher calls back. “We will be right back.”
He keeps his arm around me, pulling me around the side of the building.
I don’t miss Yak’s last words, though.
“Don’t forget the woody hoodie or you’ll have a bun in the oven.”
