Beauty & The Biker

“Eat,” he grunts the word at me like a Neanderthal, shoving the items into my lap. For a moment, the way his hand lingers, I think he might offer me some comfort, but he tears away from me when our eyes meet.

His hot and cold is unnerving. He is trying hard to mask his compassion, but the faint flicker of caring appeared in his gaze, briefly.

“No,” I sass giving him attitude. He might have everyone one else quaking at the knees and kissing his feet, but he doesn’t own me. “If you’ve somehow forgotten, I already have a daddy. I don’t need another.” I hook my thumb in the direction of my sleeping father.

“You keep mouthing off and I’m gonna give you something to shut that pretty mouth of yours,” he threatens, and the meaning of his words are perfectly clear when his hand goes straight to his zipper. “You’d be wise not to test my patience. I’ll bend you over this fucking chair and spank your ass like the immature little girl you are.”

I swallow hard as I picture exactly what he says. The image painted in my mind is much more erotic than a hospital room. I can see us in his castle, surrounded by candlelight, me bent over his knee and him stroking my bare bottom.

I bite my bottom lip, chewing on it, stealing a glance at him as he towers over me. Tristian doesn’t strike me as a man who offers empty promises. No man has ever spoken to me the way he does and no man has ever made me feel so much, so many emotions are hitting me all at once.

Before I can give him more lip, my father awa

kens. “Isa,” he whispers hoarsely.

I rush to his bedside. “Papi, God, you gave me a scare!”

“I’m fine Isabella, don’t worry about me.” he strokes the top of my head gently.

I offer him the bottle of water and he accepts it eagerly. As he is taking a drink his eyes land on our unwanted guest.

“Give us a moment,” my father orders me and I obey, but not straying far, so I can eavesdrop.

With my neck craned, I stretch to listen to their conversation.

“You have my money Perez?”

“I’m sorry Tristian. Business has been slow. I need more time.”

“I’ve given you plenty of time and more chances than I have given many others. You disappoint me. Three days. I’ll be in touch.”

Tristian’s boots thump loudly as he moves to leave.

I hurry around the corner and step around pretending I wasn’t just listening when he steps into the hall.

“Say your goodbye and I’ll drive you home.”

“My sister is coming,” I lie.

“Liar, you are testing my patience.” He steps into my personal space, sucking up all of my air, challenging me.

What’s with him?

“What’s your deal? You think everyone is just going to do whatever you want because you try to come off as some big, tough, hotshot.” I stick my finger in his chest, poking his leather and he grabs it, bending it to the point I feel it is going to snap in two.

“Don’t try to play games with me, Isa, you’ll lose.” He drops my finger and I sigh in relief with the release. The way Isa rolled off his tongue was intimate and entirely too personal for comfort.

I am still standing and rubbing my sore digit as he storms down the hall and out the doors, leaving me confused, because I want him to turn around and come back to me. I don’t even understand why, and when he disappears I still watch for him to return.

My father calls my name hoarsely, so I go back in and confront him about the money he owes. I’m irritated and worried.

“What did Tristian Vandacamp want with you?”

“Nothing much,” he deadpans staring past me at the curtain.

“Don’t lie to me Papi. How bad is it?”

He scrubs his weathered hands over his tired eyes and sighs. “It’s bad Mi hija. I accepted a loan from the Vandacamp family. I have dealt with his father in the past and was always able to pay on time with interest, but paying your Mama’s medical bills after we spent so much on the business nearly bankrupted us on top of your sister’s wedding. The bank can’t give me any more money. My credit is shot. I don’t know what to do.”