“Hi Naomi, my friend Cash and I are gonna take you with us to our place, if that’s okay with you? I promise you’ll be safe there.”
She looks over my shoulder at Cash, surveying him too. “Do I have a choice?” she asks bluntly.
“You do. If you want to stay here, I won’t force you to leave, but I promise you, it’ll be safer if you come with us.” I’m not sure if I believe that I would leave her if she asked. I just pray she doesn’t call my bluff and trusts me enough to come with me.
“We’re not buying you. We’re getting you out,” I say.
She thinks for a moment, her gaze drifting to the ceiling as if searching for something or someone above her. She looks at me, then back at Cash. “Okay. I’ll come with you,” she says, moving to stand up. I offer my hand to help, but she doesn’t take it. I’m amazed by her bravery and composure.
Cash trades the money for the keys to her shackles, and the auctioneer also tosses over her boots, but no other clothing. I gesture for him to hand the keys to me, and the auctioneer speaks up. “I wouldn’t unlock her if I were you. If she escapes, the result will be the same as if you try to keep her. Remember, you’ve only got twenty-four hours,” he warns.
I nod, grunting that I understand. Naomi gratefully pulls on her boots, and I help her up. We hastily make our way out of the building toward our truck that’s parked nearby, and withevery step, I worry someone will come running after us. I open the door for her and help her inside. Once she’s in and the seatbelt is secured, I move to unlock her chains.
“Are you sure that’s wise? You heard the man. What if she escapes? It would mean war,” Cash warns.
“Naomi is not gonna escape because we’re gonna keep her safe and help her get out of this situation. If she escapes now, the Rusted Scythes will find her and punish her.”
“I won’t run. They’ve got my brother,” she reveals quietly.
I look at Cash accusingly. “See? She’s not gonna run, and we’re not gonna keep her chained up like a fucking prisoner.”
Naomi looks at me with naked curiosity, no doubt wondering what my motivations are. She considers for a moment, as if wondering whether to ask something or not. Already, she’s a puzzle I’m desperate to solve. Her desire to make whatever request she’s thinking about asking wins out. “I’m not leaving without my bike,” she says.
“Your bike?” Cash asks, voicing my confusion.
“Yes. My motorcycle, it’s the Indian over there,” she says, pointing toward a large, well-ridden, vintage Indian.
We both look between the bike and the waif of a woman before us in disbelief. “That’s your bike?” I ask incredulously, my eyebrows rising.
She rolls her eyes as if she’s heard it a thousand times. “Yes, it’s my bike. My keys are inside with my clothes, so you’ll have to put it in the truck bed, but I’m not leaving it behind.” It will weigh a fucking ton, and we’re both wondering if this is some kind of trap to escape. As if sensing what we’re thinking,she continues. “Look, you guys are in a motorcycle club, the Road Renegades MC, right?” she asks, nodding at the patch on my vest.
“We are.”
“Well then, you understand. Would you leave your bike behind?” she demands.
She’s right. I wouldn’t. My bike is my most treasured possession—more like a part of me than just a vehicle. “Okay,” I agree. I find myself even more intrigued by this tiny woman who loves her bike just as much. It’s rare to meet a chick who’s into biking, let alone one so petite who can handle such a beast of a bike.
Cash looks at me as if I’m crazy. “Are you kidding?”
“Nope,” I say, shutting the door and making sure to lock it with Naomi inside before striding over to her bike.
“This is fucking insane,” Cash grumbles as we lift it into the truck bed, grunting under the weight.
Despite the fucked-up situation we’ve gotten ourselves into, I look over to my best friend and smile. “This is fucking destiny, my friend. We just found the woman of our dreams.”
Chapter 3
Naomi
Idon’t know what to make of the two men who bought me at the auction. Considering what I was being sold for and the horrifying picture the auctioneer painted, I’d imagined only a monster would bid on me. But when the gavel came down, and I dared look into the audience to stare down the person who thought he could own me, I saw a man with a handsome, kind face, who looked as dazed and bemused as I was. When they came backstage and spoke to me, in their eyes I didn’t see lust or evil, only concern. Could it be that they were telling the truth when they said they don’t intend to hurt me?
I scarcely want to let myself believe it in case it all turns out to be some sort of sadistic trick. To give me hope, only to strip it away at the last second to see the pain on my face.
But so far, they’ve been nothing but kind to me, even agreeing to bring my bike. The thing weighed a ton, but they lifted it onto the truck bed with ease. Though seeing that display of brute strength made me realize that any attempts to run away would be futile.
They say they’re from the Road Renegades, a club I’ve never heard much of before, but then my knowledge of motorcycle clubs begins and ends with the Rusted Scythes, and I only know of them because my father was a member. But if the Road Renegades are anything like the Rusted Scythes, then these are dangerous men who live outside of the normal rules ofsociety. I can’t let my guard down around them. I need to play along for now and find out what they want from me.
When they get inside the car, to my surprise, the one who has been speaking to me, Gage, climbs in the back with me. As we drive away, I find myself stealing furtive glances at him. I can tell just by looking at him that he’s a mechanic, he’s got that weather-beaten look and workman’s hands with calluses and oil stains that won’t ever scrub off. On one muscular arm, he sports a tattoo sleeve; typically, I’d be dying to inspect it closely, but I resist the urge to ask about it. Within the intricate design, I spot a detailed heart design as well as wrenches and gears, which make sense if he’s a mechanic. His dark brown hair is cut short, but it’s grown out a little and is tousled, as if he spends a lot of time running his hands through it. He has a neatly trimmed beard and a nice smile that he flashes at me now when he catches me looking. I turn away, looking out of the window.
