Cash (The Henchmen MC 2)

“Lo,” Cash said, his tone taking on a serious edge that made me turn my gaze back to him, brows drawn together. “I get that you're all independent and can handle your own shit, but what point could you be making by standing here in the cold?” he asked, and well, he had a point. “Ask me for a ride, Lo.”

Of course the jerk couldn't just offer me a ride. No, he wanted me to have to ask for it.

I looked down at my phone, still nothing from Janie. I was starting to not only be frustrated, but get genuinely worried. Janie never didn't call or text back. I needed to get back to Hailstorm to see if anyone had heard from her.

I sighed, tucking my phone into my pocket. “Fine. Can you give me a ride?”

“Not gonna say please?” he asked, lips twitching.

“Forget it,” I growled, moving past him to go back toward the house. I'd rather hitch a ride from Summer or Reign than deal with his nonsense.

“Lo, baby, rein in the fucking pride and get on my bike,” he said, sounding every bit as exasperated as I felt.

I turned back to see him already moving down the driveway toward his bike, the gravel crunching under his big boots. I watched his lean, strong body move as he swaggered (god it was so sexy) toward his bike, swinging his leg over, then finally looking up toward me, still standing dumbly on the front steps.

“Oh, fuck it,” I murmured to myself, feeling a chill run through my body as I made my way toward his bike, putting a little extra oomph in my walk because he was staring me down.

“Don't have any helmets, darling,” he said, tilting his head slightly when I got around him. “You're gonna have to trust me,” he said, then the light hit his eyes again, a light I didn't trust, “and hold on tight.”

Oh, shit.

I was totally going to have to hold on.

“Fine,” I said, swinging a leg over the side of the bike and climbing onto the back, holding my body away from his as long as possible.

He chuckled and turned over the bike, then waited. My guess was he was waiting for me to hold on. When I didn't, he let the bike jerk forward until my arms flew out and grabbed the sides of his jacket. “How 'bout this, babe?” he asked, reaching for my hands and pulling them around his front and under (yes under) his tee, settling my freezing hands against his hot skin. I felt myself jolt at the contact, trying to pull away. “Relax,” he murmured in such a low, soothing way that I automatically did. He released my hands and zipped up his jacket to further seal in the warmth. His hands moved to the handlebars and the bike burst into motion.

I wasn't unfamiliar with bikes. I didn't even dislike them, but something about being without a helmet at high speeds had me scooting forward, clamping my thighs into the outsides of his and pressing my hands tight into his toned stomach. Okay, that was complete and utter bullshit. I held on because he was hot and he called me beautiful in that whiskey-rich voice of his and I really wanted to know what he felt like inside of me, but I also knew that holding him while he drove me home was the closest I was ever going to get to him.

We pulled up to the gates of Hailstorm what felt like too short a time later, pausing for them to be unlocked before Cash just went ahead and rumbled through without being invited to do so.

We had almost made it to the main building when the first explosion went off, sending us and the bike flying through the air.ThreeCashI was about to cut the engine, grab her, wrap her around my waist and carry her back to her bed, or a couch, or a god damn wall, slam her up against it, and show her that it was, with fucking certainty, going to happen.

The next second, there was a flash, a sound loud enough to quiet the world, and I was suddenly flying through the air.

There was the barest of seconds to realize Lo was still wrapped around me before we crashed down on the ground several yards away.

Lo let out a groan at the contact as I cursed, trying to scramble upward, untangling my limbs from hers. Another explosion went off, making our bodies jolt at the sound. I pressed up on my forearm over her body, my free hand moving to the side of her face, touching just below a three inch gash down the side of her cheek. It was bleeding toward her ear, but it was shallow, if she treated it, it wouldn't even need stitches. “You okay?” I asked, feeling like I was yelling, but my ears had popped and I wasn't hearing right.

Her mouth didn't open, but her head nodded, her eyes hazy for a moment. Then, I watched the realization dawn on her: Hailstorm, her home, her compound full of her people, had been bombed. Her eyes went huge and she was suddenly moving upward, slamming her hands against my chest until I moved back, sitting my ass on my heels so she could get up and I could look around.

The good thing about Hailstorm, from an entirely logistical point of view, was it was made of fucking recycled shipping containers, meaning- it was all but indestructible. Fire-proof, wind-proof and, apparently, bomb proof. There weren't even any residual fires blazing.

“Lo!” I called as she scrambled upward and started running. But she either didn't hear me, or didn't care, as she ran with a slight limp, favoring her left hip where the brunt of my lower body weight crashed down on her, and falling down beside the prone bodies of a group of her men.

Even from a distance, I could see they were alive, breathing. I stood slowly, turning and looking for anyone else hurt, taking off toward the side of one of the buildings where I saw what looked like long dark hair peeking out from a corner. My first thought was: Janie. Granted, I didn't know her much, but what I did know, I liked, and I felt my heart skip faster as I made my way to the body.