Take Me To Bed: Bedtime Quickies Collection

She nodded, her eyes watching every word spill from my mouth.

“And if you’re here when I get back, maybe we can plan a trip of our own.”

“And if I’m not?” she asked, her eyes glistening with worry and uncertainty.

I smiled sadly and she nodded, knowing I didn’t have a reply for that. Sometimes life led us toward our future. Other times it led us toward a moment. I wasn’t sure whether Arla was my future or a moment yet, but I’d find out in eighteen months.

“These are your brothers?” she asked, her gaze going to the patches on their cuts. “You’re a biker?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, worrying for the first time in my life what someone would think of me. The Highwaymen weren’t the good guys. They were the villains of the story.

“Yeah,” I finally said.

She looked thoughtful, her gaze moving warily between me and my brothers. I knew our reputation. We all did. It was what kept us on top. “I need to get going,” she said. “I have

an early flight, and you have…your trip too.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“How long was it again?”

“Eighteen months,” I said, hating those two words more than I hated anything else in the world.

“Then I’ll see you in eighteen months,” she said with certainty. She smiled sadly and climbed into her car.

I leaned over and placed both hands on the roof of her car, looking in at her. “Stay safe, Arla.”

I turned away to face my brothers, not bearing to watch as she drove away from me. It felt like there was a huge weight pressing down on my chest that just would not let go.

Gauge patted me on the shoulder, almost sympathetically. “She’s fine pussy, brother. Think she’ll wait for you?”

I shrugged. Eighteen months wasn’t that long when you thought of how long life was. It was merely a blip in one man’s existence.

“No idea, but I hope so.”

Hardy threw his cigar on the ground and stubbed it out under his heavy boot. “Women like that,” he said, his voice gravelly, “they’re loyal to a fault. She’ll be waiting for you if she says she will.”

Gauge smiled. “Got a reason to stay alive in there now, brother.”

Prison didn’t worry me. It didn’t worry any of us. We all knew the risks of this life. We had enemies on the inside: other bikers, prison guards that hated us, men looking to prove they could take down a Highwayman. I’d seen men go inside for what should have been six months and never make it out alive.

But I didn’t worry about whether I’d make it out alive.

I knew I would.

Because only the Devil himself would be able to keep me away now that I knew Arla would be waiting for me when I got out.

About Claire

Claire C. Riley is a USA Today and International bestselling author.

She’s a genre jumping book nerd who likes to write about psycho stalkers, alpha males and the strong women love them, anti-heroes, and the end of the bloody world! A lover of all things dark and dirty, she likes to write books that f**k with your heart, and your head and leave you begging for more.

She lives in the United Kingdom with her husband, three daughters and ridiculously naughty rescue beagle, Dogface.

She also loves cheap instant coffee, pink gin and ride or die friends.

Visit her at www.clairecriley.com