Sinful Protector (Roughshod Rollers MC 2)

He waves a hand helplessly in the air before gratefully downing the tablets.

“Then you came racing through the streets to protect me?” I ask dryly.

A hint of red creeps up Kyle’s cheeks, and he scratches his collar bone. He’s shuffling his feet, almost like a child that has been caught doing something wrong.

“Sorry,” he repeats.

“Well…it isn’t fine, but I do understand,” I say. “Your clothes are in the dryer if you want to wait just a little while; they were still a little damp.”

“Damp…?” Kyle murmurs. His expression cleared. “Right, it was raining.”

“Rain that you ran all the way through,” I pointed out. “What, exactly, were you thinking last night?”

Kyle grimaces. “That scumbag had just made all these threats. I scared him off, but he ran out of the bar, and I lost sight of him when I followed. He’d just admitted that he knew where you lived, so…” He shrugs helplessly. “I think part of me was terrified that he’d come straight here.”

“Kyle…” I sigh.

“I know,” Kyle says, putting his hand up. “I remember what you said last night. That there wasn’t any reason to do that. Obviously, I wasn’t thinking very clearly.” He yawns and I push a mug a coffee toward him. “I get a little single-minded when I have a lot to drink. I get one thing in my head, and I have to follow through on it.”

“Yeah?” I ask. “I guess I can see that. It must make for some embarrassing stories.”

“Like this one,” Kyle grimaces. “Damn, what time even was it last night?”

“About two-thirty,” I tell him.

He looks stricken.

“I’m really, really sorry,” he says.

I roll my eyes and smile.

“It’s okay,” I say with a shrug.

His clothes are still drying, so I potter about my apartment, getting ready for class, while he sits awkwardly on the couch, still covered in blankets. Before long, however, he starts asking me about attending college, and I find myself answering his questions, if only for something to cover the silence with. Before I know it, time passes and the dryer clicks off.

“Your clothes are ready,” I say, pleased, bringing him back the jeans and shirt he had worn last night.

“Thank you for doing that,” he says as I drop them beside him.

I leave the living room to give him some privacy. When I return, he’s dressed again and stretching his arms over his head, yawning.

“Feeling better?” I ask.

“Just a little more alive than I did before,” he jokes. “Allison, thank you. You could have just left me out in the hall last night.”

“I didn’t want you to get sick,” I say with a shrug. “Especially considering you thought you were doing all that for my sake.”

Kyle picks up his jacket and stares at it for a long moment. It’s still a little damp. He shrugs, though, and swings it on, his back to me.

My breath catches.

Despite the fact that was the second time I’ve seen him in the same jacket, I didn’t even question it last night. I think I just assumed it was his favorite one and left it at that.

Looking at the huge symbol on the back, however, I suddenly realize that it’s more than just a favored jacket.

The skull catches my attention first, grinning hideously right in the middle. There are two huge tires attached to the sides of it, facing outward as though it’s prepared to run over anyone in its way. Vines twirl in, out and around the skull and its wheels in an intricate weave. And underneath is a banner.

Roughshod Rollers.