Making Her His (Beating the Biker 1)

“No.”

Luke was at a loss. This withdrawn woman he spoke to was not the enthusiastic woman in his bed last night. “Em? What’s up?”

“Luke, uh,” she said and released a long sigh. “I don’t know how to say this, but, I, uh, can’t see you for a while.”

He sat back in his chair, his mouth dropping open. What the hell? “Why? What’s wrong?”

“I really can’t talk about it, Luke. I had a great time last night. Sorry for the mixed signals. I’ll give you a call after things settle down. Good-bye, Luke.”

Abruptly the call ended and Luke sat there, floored. The room spun around him, much like it did ten years ago when he tried to visit Emily and found she had left town, possibly forever. That anguish returned, the same heavy feeling of self-doubt and depression he felt during that long summer where he was confined to bed while his leg healed and Emily didn’t visit.

What the fuck just happened?

Did he do something wrong? Did he push her too hard last night for sex? No. He didn’t think so. She was the one who suggested they go back to his apartment. He couldn’t have mistaken her enthusiasm. Emily wanted him as much he wanted her.

Did it have something to do with her parents? Did they see the logo on the SUV and put two and two together? Did those very proper Catholic folk object to their daughter being out all night with a man? Object to Emily being with him?

Luke remembered with bitterness when her parents grounded her for the rest of the school year when he brought her home late after her curfew. It was all perfectly innocent. They had simply fallen asleep while watching the stars. Both of them worked hard during the week, with school and part-time jobs. It was easy for both of them to relax with each other, natural to fall asleep in each other’s arms. All innocent. Even when he had wanted more, he never pressed it. She was the one who pushed him.

It was a month before Emily agreed to go on a ride on his bike and that stupid accident happened. The shit hit the fan then, both with his injuries and his relationship with Emily. It took him a long time, a near-death experience, and a stint in the Navy to get his life back together.

He didn’t understand this and he couldn’t. Luke sat in his living room as raw anger seeped from his gut into his heart. If Emily Rose Dougherty was too fucking good to be with him, that was her problem, not his. This had nothing to do with her parents. She used him, just as she’d used and tossed him ten years ago.

EMILY SAT IN HER LIVING room, her eyes cried out, never feeling more alone. Justin had called to confirm what Angela had said. Hanging out with a known criminal element would not help her case in court.

When she tried to protest she was sure Luke had nothing to do with what happened to the club’s president, he disagreed. “I’m sure law enforcement doesn’t see it that way. You can be sure, Emily, that if one was convicted, others are being investigated. You do yourself a favor, and stay away from anyone in Hades’ Spawn motor club.”

Luke called almost as soon as she hung up the phone. She didn’t want to say those words, didn’t have the right words to say to him. What was she supposed to tell him? Luke, hanging out wit

h you is going to hurt my case in court? Of course not. It wasn’t Luke’s fault some idiot in his club got himself in trouble. Then again, she didn’t know everything about Luke. He might be involved. Even if she doubted he was, she couldn’t be sure.

She, on the other hand, had to act responsibly, to do what she needed to get her life back on course.

Never at any point did she hate Evan Waters as she did the minute she told Luke she couldn’t see him. White heat flared in her heart as she heard the disappointment in Luke’s voice. She didn’t want to hurt him and never meant to.

Grief rocked her, the same grief when her parents forbade her after the accident from seeing Luke ever again. Intellectually she knew her father was only trying to protect her when he threatened to pull her college trust fund away if she did. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and Emily never felt right about herself after she caved in to his demand. Still, she knew she’d never get a college education without it, not for the school she was accepted to. But she felt like a traitor, both to Luke and to herself.

And now she’d gone and done it again, brushed Luke off for the sake of expediency. Emily was ashamed. Doing the “right” thing was wrong, totally wrong, then and now.

She wouldn’t blame Luke if he hated her.

He deserved better than that, someone better than her.

CHAPTER TEN

Good Advice

LUKE TOOK A LONG DRIVE early the next morning. He couldn’t sleep, after tossing and turning all night he needed to clear his head. He took the Sportster and flew south on I-91, through the exchange in New Haven to I-95 over the Q Bridge. The Pearl Harbor Memorial Bridge spanned I-95 over the mouth of the Quinnipiac River, so instead of calling it the Pearl, the locals called it the Q. He glanced at his watch and seeing it was close to rush hour, got off on the Branford Exit and struck out on Route 17 North. The two-lane road swung through the Connecticut countryside to ultimately land in Middletown. The hilly and twisty roads were just what Luke needed to put his head back together. It reminded him of what he loved so much about bike riding; the feel of the open road, the sense that alone he could conquer anything.

He couldn’t stay angry at Emily long. Shit, he never could. However, he was a man now, not a lost little kid. He didn’t need to be told again he didn’t fit into her proper Catholic, middle-class life. He’d made the mistake once, he wouldn’t let himself do it a second time.

It sucked they couldn’t be together, but life didn’t always work out the way you wanted. He was glad he got to spend one night with her. After high school, it made the good memories kind of complete.

These were the things he told himself over and over as the countryside and the tiny towns flashed by him. His thoughts were thin bandages against his wounded pride and the hole in his heart Emily had torn open again. He’d survived many things in this world, including the first time Emily dumped him. He didn’t need her or the heartache. He had his business and the Hades’ Spawn, and eventually maybe he’d find a woman to share it all with.

Rumbling through Durham, a town whose Main Street was lined with original 17th, 18th and 19th century homes, he debated the merits of breaking off Route 17 to travel Route 68 which would carry him back to I-91 or continuing up Route 17. Again, rush hour played a factor so he continued up the tree-lined Route 17, trying to enjoy the morning quiet. When he arrived in Middletown he made his way to Route 66 towards Westfield, and slowly back to the shop.

“Where’ve you been, Boss?” Gibs sat at Luke’s desk drinking a cup of coffee. “I made coffee.” He pointed at the brewed pot.