“I’ve never been on one before,” I half whispered.

The edges of his eyes softened and he ran a fingertip down my temple. “I’ve got you, babe. All you need to do is hold onto me,” he murmured quietly. I knew for some reason he meant more than with a motorcycle ride.

He gave me one more long, searching look then moved to hop on the motorcycle. I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even look back into the building that caused my meltdown, just hopped on behind him and let him take me away from it all.

We rode for a long time. It felt like hours. Ocean scenery sped by us, though I didn’t pay much attention. I focused on the hard body I was pressed up against, the vibration from the bike, the feeling of freedom of hurtling along the highway. Every dark thought that polluted my mind fell away until there was nothing but me, Zane, and the road. My head cleared and I felt like I could breathe without choking on sorrow. Zane somehow knew what I needed and gave it to me. I didn’t need words or moping. I just needed him and his bike. We slowed down, turning down a semi-abandoned looking road that ended with a small empty parking lot, overlooking the sea. A lone park bench sat beyond the lot on the top of a gentle slope. I imagined it gave an amazing view of the ocean. After he parked his bike, we sat there for a moment, the roar of the waves replacing the rumble of the bike that I had become accustomed to. Zane swung off, turning to me. He gently undid the helmet that he had buckled on me before we took off and discarded it. His hands went underneath my armpits and he lifted me off the bike as if I was a child. After gently setting me down on my feet, he engulfed my hand in his, leading us towards the seat. We got there with not a word spoken between us. He pulled me down into his lap, continuing the silence. I reveled in the warmth of his arms and the safe feeling they gave me, my eyes watching the ocean.

My life was loud. I was loud. Lexie and I were always talking, joking, devouring movies, TV shows and food at alarming rates. We were busy. Our lives were full of sound, noises and happiness. When that happiness was shattered a week ago, it was still loud, busy. So Zane giving me the gift of silence. In that moment, it was the most beautiful thing he could have ever done for me.

“How did you know?” I asked finally, my voice croaky. I wanted to know how he knew what I needed. How he knew to give me silence.

Zane’s arms tightened around me. “Had a prospect on you,” he said by way of explanation.

I jolted and my eyes searched his face. Well, I guessed I also needed to know how he knew I was having a mental breakdown in my car outside the hotel. I hadn’t even thought of that.

He was still staring at the ocean. “You had a prospect on me?” I repeated.

He nodded.

“Why?”

He finally looked down at me and I almost flinched. His eyes weren’t hard or angry; they were haunted. Demons I didn’t even know he had were dancing at the surface.

“Need to know you’re safe,” he said simply.

I regarded him. “Why would I be unsafe?” I asked quietly, my stomach dropping at the thought of him finding out the truth. Of why I was running. That I was running at all. Whom I was running from.

He was silent, his jaw turning hard as his eyes left mine again.

I lifted my hand to cup his jaw, moving it so I got his attention. “Zane?” I pressed.

He sighed. “Nothing concrete, just shit with the club,” he bit out. “Highly unlikely to even touch you, but I’m not taking any chances,” he declared firmly.

I relaxed slightly. Yes, “shit with the club” was hardly anything to be relieved about, but knowing Zane wasn’t aware of just how precarious my “safety” was, helped a little.

His eyes sharpened at my relief but I didn’t give him time to inspect it. “Lexie?” I asked, worry creeping in now.

Zane’s jaw turned to granite again. “She’s covered,” he replied.

I nodded, knowing Zane would never endanger her. The fact he had someone on us more than worried me. I chewed my lip as I questioned the dangers of being involved with someone in a motorcycle club. Of the day when those men had sent a soft foreboding down my spine. Zane’s anger when I had told him about it. The concern that lay under that anger. Concern that led him out of our lives for two weeks, thinking he was doing the best thing by us. My mind turned to Amy, to Gwen and her baby girl, her pregnant belly. The men’s adoration of those women. I refused to believe the men who treated their women like they were responsible for their sanity would put them in danger.

“I trust you, to keep us safe,” I whispered finally. I did. With every part of me.

Zane moved me suddenly so I was straddling him. His hands went to my neck, his eyes searching mine. “Didn’t think I’d have this,” he muttered, his hand tightening at my hip. “A fuckin’ beautiful, strong woman. Woman who gave me a family, gave me her trust, not caring about the fact I lived my life in darkness,” he clipped, his voice raw.

My heart clenched at the way he thought of himself. I stroked his face. “You’re the one who’s given me and Lexie everything,” I told him. “You took a heartbroken little girl, and her equally heartbroken mom, and got them through the darkest part of their lives,” I said firmly. “That doesn’t say you’ve got a life lived in darkness. Says you’re a good man who can take two people back to sunshine,” I half whispered, touching his goatee.

Tags: Anne Malcom Sons of Templar MC Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net