Biker's Bride (Demons MC)

I’d finally given myself to him, and it was so much more than I could have imagined.

Smiling to myself, I climbed out of bed. I couldn’t wait to see him again for some crazy reason. I looked down at the ring on my finger and felt something flutter in my stomach.

I knew we weren’t really married. I knew it wasn’t real, just a convenient political move to help keep me safe.

But I couldn’t help but smile. After last night, maybe it meant something.

I pushed out into the main room. “Ford?” I called out.

Silence greeted me.

“Ford?”

I looked around his cabin, but he wasn’t there. I looked out the front window and saw two bikes I didn’t recognize parked there instead of Ford’s.

Quickly I walked into his bedroom and threw some more clothes on and then opened the front door.

Sitting there were Ryan and Slip.

“Morning,” Ryan said.

“Where’s Ford?” I asked him.

“Club business,” he said.

I frowned. “When did he leave?”

“Early this morning.”

“When’s he getting back?”

“Don’t know.”

I sighed. “Okay. Thanks.” I went back inside, shutting the door.

Of course he was gone. What more did I expect? Did I really think Ford would be standing in the kitchen cooking me breakfast with a smile?

That wasn’t him. Ford was an asshole, a selfish biker. He didn’t care how I’d feel waking up and finding him gone. Why would he?

He had club business.

And in that moment, I realized something.

I realized that the club would always come first. No matter what I did, it would be the club. Even if he wanted me that way, which I wasn’t really sure of, club business always trumped me.

I couldn’t live with that. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I wanted any more to do with Ford. Last night kept running through my mind, though, making me second-guess everything.

We weren’t really together. We weren’t really married. But last night it felt like it was real. When his body pressed against mine, it felt more real than anything else I’d experienced. Even in between the sex, we were constantly touching, talking, laughing. It just felt good.

And yet he would leave. He did leave. I understood that he had to do things for his club, but he didn’t even bother to say goodbye to me.

Maybe I was overreacting, but I couldn’t help but think about our past, about him disappearing on me.

I went into the kitchen and cooked some breakfast and made some coffee. I figured the guys outside would appreciate some food, so I made extra pancakes for them.

When I finished, I carried out two mugs.

“Oh shit. Thanks so much,” Spill said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Ryan added.

They sipped their drinks gratefully. “Want some pancakes?”

“Holy shit yes,” Ryan said.

“Please,” Spill added.

I laughed and went inside, returning with two big plates of pancakes. “Here. Enjoy.”

They dug in like they’d never eaten before. I sat down on the steps, sipping my drink, and watched them chow down.

“How is it?” I asked.

“Delicious,” Ryan said.

“Yeah, great,” Spill added.

I smiled. “Good. I’m happy you guys are talking to me today.”

Spill’s face fell and he looked at Ryan, who just shrugged.

“Are we talking to her?” Spill asked.

“We weren’t told not to,” Ryan said.

“Guess we’re talking.” Spill grinned at me.

“So what can you guys tell me about what’s going on?”

“Not much,” Ryan said. “We’re not told much. We just do what we’re told.”

“Do you know where Ford is?”

He shook his head no, chewing a big mouthful of pancakes.

“What about you?” I asked Spill.

“I know less than he does,” Spill said.

“Believe me, we’re just pledges. We’re not told shit.”

I sighed, sipping my coffee. The idea of spending another day locked away in that cabin suddenly drove me crazy. I couldn’t stay cooped up anymore, not with Ford out there doing who knew what. Maybe he was in danger, or maybe I was in danger. Nobody was telling me anything, and so I was constantly guessing and on edge.

I stood up. “I’m going for a walk,” I announced, and I turned to leave.

“Wait,” Ryan said, standing up. His pancakes dropped to the ground, and Spill held back a laugh. “We can’t let you leave.”

I looked at him. Ryan was tall and lanky, and I was sure he could stop me if he wanted to. “Am I in prison?” I asked him.

“No,” he said, “but I can’t let you leave.”

“I’m leaving then.” I turned and started moving.

“Wait.” Ryan ran down the steps and got in front of me. “I’m really sorry, Caralee, but you have to stay here.”

“Move,” I said, and went to walk around him.

Ryan suddenly got serious. He transformed from the goofy pledge on the porch to an intense man in half a second. He grabbed my wrist and nodded at Spill, who came down the steps.

“Get off me,” I said, wrenching my arm.

He held tight. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “We have orders.”

Spill grabbed my waist and threw me over his shoulder like I was nothing.