Not wanting to go there this morning, I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to remember the truth. That come this time next week, I’d be back at home, and Niyol would be in California, starting over.
A few lonely raindrops were still falling outside, landing on the roof of the Rover. From the looks of the sky through the sunroof, there was another storm brewing, but it seemed we had a while until it hit.
I slipped out of his hold, unlocking the trunk door. Niyol didn’t even stir as I maneuvered my way onto the campsite. According to my cell, it was one in the afternoon, yet the thought of being behind schedule no longer mattered to me.
Regardless, I picked up our camp, needing something to do to bide my time until he woke. Most items outside were sopping wet from the night’s storm. His duffle was the only thing that seemed unscathed, tucked beneath the picnic table where he’d left it.
The fire had long gone out, leaving just a dusting of smoke, along with a pile of gray-and-black ashes. The shift in weather from the day before was dramatic. Even hotter and stickier, like we’d been thrown in a pile of Colorado soup. Sweat dripped down my neck, into my hair, and by the time I finished, I knew I would need that shower I didn’t get last night sooner than later.
An hour or so later, I woke Niyol and asked him to accompany me to the bathroom. No way was I going to take that trek by myself anymore.
“Are you okay?” I asked as we walked toward the outhouse, soap and shampoo tucked under my arms, our changes of clothes in his.
He nodded, staring down at the brush below our feet. “I’m good. Just ready to get on the road.” His gaze darted from the path, then down to his right, an edge to him I couldn’t ignore.
Was he already regretting what we’d done? My shoulders drooped at the thought. I’d wanted to hold on to our night for a little while longer. But it was looking as though that would not be the case.
Our hands brushed together as we approached the shower block. If he were any other man, I would have grabbed his fingers, interlaced them with my own. But this was Niyol, and I was Summer. Two very different people with two very different life goals.
With my stomach in my toes, I said over my shoulder as I walked inside the women’s room, “I won’t be long.”
Head down, he nodded and walked toward the men’s side. “I’ll be quick too, and right next door if you need me.”
Ten minutes later I slipped my slimy feet back inside my flip-flops, my body as clean as my back would let me get it. The bumps were still itchy as hell, but thankfully seemed to be scabbing over.
The wind had picked up outside, banging against the small building’s shutters. Ignoring the sound, I put on a pair of cut-off sweats and my favorite Cubs’ jersey. It had been a gift from my father on my twenty-first birthday. Though it was ten times too large, and clearly made for a man, I adored it because he’d picked it out for me on his own. Something he rarely did.
I loved my dad to pieces, but he was a workaholic, always at the hospital or his clinic. Usually, he had his receptionists or one of the nurses do the shopping for him, buying me perfume and makeup, expensive purses I never used. But this shirt, this gift had been from the heart for once.
There was a small circle mirror that hung over the one sink, and I wiped the steam away with a paper towel to study my face. I brushed my knotted waves back and pulled my hair into a side braid that hung over my shoulder. The spots on my neck brought forth by Niyol’s mouth sent a blush to my cheeks and a smile to my lips. The memory of his face between my legs had my heart skipping beats at the same time.
I shouldn’t have felt so giddy about any of this. But there I was, wondering if it was going to happen again. Wondering, too, if next time we could take it a step further.
A weather siren sounded in the distance. I blinked at my reflection, then pocketed my old underwear. As I gathered the rest of my stuff, something hard whacked against the side of the building.
“Holy crap.” I jumped in place and dropped my shampoo bottle onto my toe. The one glass window on the building rattled as rain slapped the pane. A crash of lightning lit the room and the lights flickered—on, off, on, off.
Panicking, I unlocked the door and yanked it open, only to have it pushed back against my nose and forehead from the wind. Dizziness washed over me, and I gasped in pain, pressing a palm to my forehead as I fell back against the wall. Blood seeped out from over my eyebrow, and I quickly grabbed a paper towel to wipe it away.
A voice yelled from outside the door. I whipped my head to the left, just barely able to make out what he was saying over the whirling wind.
“Niyol?” I mumbled, somehow finding the strength to stumble toward the door again.
Just a foot away, I watched through the sudden downpour and wind as Niyol raced toward me from the men’s room. My head thumped an angry rhythm against my skull, and I stumbled back to the wall, dizziness taking me over again.
The wind whipped through the trees while the weather siren wailed louder in the distance.
“Get in,” he shouted over the ruckus. He wrapped an arm around my waist and hauled me back into the shower. “Hold onto me. Don’t let go.”
A noise, sounding a lot like a train, whistled. I knew the sound. Heard it many times before as a child who’d frequented Oklahoma a ton growing up.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered. “Tornado.”
As quick as his shaking hands could go, Niyol undid his belt from around his waist and tugged me to the ground. We landed with an oomph, and immediately I felt like Helen Hunt in Twister, as Niyol attempted to connect our bodies with it. It didn’t work, of course, and he cussed, his eyes flickering up to meet mine in fear, even as he said, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay.”
With my head still throbbing, I gripped his hand and lowered my cheek to his chest. We were at Mother Nature and God’s mercy now. Nothing but a miracle could save us if a tornado struck this building.
Nineteen
Niyol
“We’ll get through this,” I whispered into Summer’s ear once more, her body trembling against mine.
Even as I clung to her, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was it for me. For us both. Death in a Colorado campground. Fucking hell.
Something smashed against the side of the building, just as the glass from the window shattered to the floor. It sprayed over the stalls, barely missing my back. Summer’s hands tightened even more around me as I gripped the back of her jersey. The lights went back on for a sec, only to go out completely. The roof creaked, rattling like it was seconds from ripping off. The building was made of cement, though, so if the roof held up, we’d be fine.
God, I hoped we’d be fine.
Pipes under the sink banged around, like it was more of an earthquake than a storm. I glanced back behind me to make sure things weren’t breaking off, only to notice the door rattling open.
“Damn. I gotta go close that.”
“No.” She gripped my arms tightly as I began to pull away, her eyes glazed over. I frowned, watching her face. That’s when I noticed a bloody bump along her hairline.
“You’re hurt.” I went to touch it, but she pushed my hand away, doing the unthinkable.
She yanked her body from mine with a grunt. I fell back, my shoulders slamming against the wall. Before I could blink, she stood and ran to the door, then used her shoulder to shove it closed.
“Get down!” I yelled as a branch flew through the broken window toward her head.
She yelped, falling to her knees. I crawled toward her, my throat tightening, the edge of her jersey torn.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I yanked her back toward the stall, never letting her go.
“I’m okay,” she insisted as I pulled her to my chest.
Then with our backs plastered against the wall, hands interlocked, we waited it out until the end.
Twenty
Summer
“The landlines are dead, I get that. But you mean to tell me all cell-phone tower
s are down as well?” I leaned forward onto a desk in the ranger station, avoiding the yellow glares of all the taxidermy on the wall.
This place was creeping me out, and the man running it today wasn’t helping matters.
A monstrous pipe filled with tobacco in one hand and his yellow-and-green bird in the other, Mr. Park Ranger/Mountain Man Sam leaned back in his seat, eyeing me like a pirate. He’d not been the guy we checked in with the night before. If he had, I wouldn’t have agreed to stay here. His gray brows matched his beard, but his head was bald with a tattoo that said Mama’s Boy. God. We were officially in the Twilight Zone of Colorado.
“Yuuuup. Storm took out pretty much anything in its path.” He tapped one hand across the wooden counter, gaze a little hazy. “Y’all got lucky it didn’t get ya.”
I shivered, watching him. Was that tobacco he was smoking in his pipe, or something else? I wouldn’t be surprised—this was Colorado.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I stepped back and folded my arms.
I wasn’t mad at him, more so I was mad at our luck in general. My Rover was trashed. A huge tree had implanted itself into the roof. And my car held all of our stuff, including the phone chargers. Not that they’d work right now anyway.
Thankfully, I had insurance on my vehicle. But I kind of needed to talk to someone on the actual phone to get the rental car process started.
The door jingled as Niyol came barreling in. He moved to my side, hair pulled back and reminding me of a sexy samurai, minus the sword. I glanced down at his hands, noticing his duffle. It dripped along the tiled floor, building a puddle by his feet. Somehow, it had gotten blown under the car, managing to stay on our campsite. At least one of us had our stuff.
“Don’t worry,” Sam winked at me. “I’ll get you two to town.” Pirate Sam dumped his pipe gunk into a cup and tucked his parrot back into its cage. He motioned for us to follow, and after a shared look, Niyol and I did just that.
* * *
With the advice of the nice car-rental man in the nearest town, we were able to find a quaint little bed and breakfast just a few blocks from a shopping center. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get a replacement vehicle until that night. Something about hail damage from the storm, and a shortage of vehicles. My insurance company had also been slow to get back to me due to the phone lines being down. Then when we finally did connect, it took forever to get the proper paperwork in order. It was a huge mess, but I was dealing with it the best I could.
Inside the bed and breakfast, a lady with long brown hair and a sweet smile greeted us at a wooden desk to the left of the front door. Niyol hung back to my right, leaning over a couch. He’d looked at his dead phone at least twenty times in the past hour. I wondered who he was expecting a call from.
I glanced around the small lobby as we waited for our keys. The B and B was beautiful; homey-looking, in an antiquated sort of way. Buttercream-painted walls, paisley furniture, and hardwood floors that looked freshly refinished. There was also a fireplace, and a small love seat that sat kitty corner to a couch in front of it.
I was scared the owner would be disgusted by the sight of us, both dirty and disheveled—which was more my MO lately, it seemed. Thankfully, there was one room left, and she didn’t blink an eye when she handed over the key.
She offered us cookies but apologized for not having anything for dinner. Told us about a restaurant down the road that we could get takeout at, and then let us be. I was wholeheartedly okay with her hospitality.
“You can shower first.” I pointed to the bathroom when we stepped into our room.
Niyol set his duffle on a dresser, then sat on the edge of the bed with a low groan. He was just as worn down as I was.
“There’s a Target close by. I’m gonna go grab some new things to get me through, then maybe pick up a couple of burgers for dinner.”
In the middle of taking off his shoes, he froze, eyeing me from under his hair. “You’re not going anywhere without me.”
I rolled my eyes and sat next to him, nudging his shoulder with my own. “What, you think the big bad wolf will eat me alive along the quaint streets of this small Colorado town?” I snorted.
He didn’t laugh. “I’m serious, Summer. Don’t go anywhere without me.”
“What’s the big deal? I’ll walk and be back in an hour, if that.”
“Jesus, Summer, when I ask you to wait, just fucking wait, all right?”
I stiffened, my good mood faltering. So much for not fighting with me anymore. Instead of telling him off like I wanted, I decided to play the agreement-card. Secretly though, I’d just leave when he was in the shower.
“Fine. Go shower then.” I scrunched up my nose. “You smell almost worse than I do.”
He glared at me, distrusting, but did as I asked.
To ease that look in his eyes, I leaned back against the pillow on the bed, feigning relaxation as I flicked on the TV.
Once the shower began to run, I did what I said I wouldn’t and snuck out fast, careful to let the door shut with a quiet click behind me.
At Target, I picked up a spare bra and some underwear, along with a few pairs of shorts and some t-shirts. Then I headed to grab the burgers I’d mentioned, even scooped up a bottle of wine for later at the gas station next door. Wine cured all ailments—made me numb, too. And after the past few days, numb would be a welcome feeling.
An hour later, just like I’d said, I was back in the lobby, half expecting Niyol to be waiting for me by the door, his demon eyes flaring. He wasn’t though, and I couldn’t help but grin in success as I rounded the hallway corner to head to our room.
Touting my fantastic skills, I giggled under my breath and said to myself, “See? I am perfectly capable of taking care of my—”
“Hey, there.” I stalled at the deep voice, my elbow smacking the corner. At the view, my heart lurched into my throat.
An attractive, yet rugged-looking, blond guy stood outside our room, hair just barely grazing his shoulder, green eyes sparkling. Next to him was another hot guy, chin pressed against his chest, black hair, and eyes as menacing as Niyol’s, glaring at me like I’d killed his puppy.
Scanning them quickly, I immediately spotted names on the fronts of their black leather vests, swallowing hard at what they said.
Slade and Archer.
Oh, God. These were Niyol’s club friends. Question was… where was Niyol?
I looked to our door, before flashing them both a fake grin. “Can I help you gentlemen with something?”
The blond guy grinned wider, crossing his legs at the ankles. He reminded me of a young Fabio, but with so much more potential. Yet under all that hotness, I sensed danger. Something deadly with intent and mistrust, all directed at me. He was the one who spoke first. The one whose name patch said Archer.
“Nice night, yeah?” He tipped his head to the side, an even bigger smile lighting up his face. Two huge dimples encased his cheeks and, for a second, I nearly lost my grip on the bags. Scary or not, this man was incredibly good-looking.
“Um, yeah.” I nodded fast, taking a slow step toward the door.
“Goin’ somewhere, sweetness?” His accent said Irish. Thick and laced with an unspoken edge.
Words, dummy. Form them. Form. Them. Now.
“My bags are heavy.” I pointed toward the door. “Just gonna set them in my room.”
Slade stepped away from the wall, finally showing his full face. I gasped, dropping one of my bags this time. He looked nearly identical to Niyol, just a little shorter. Muscle mass, thick arms, a square jaw and full lips.
“Where is he?” he growled at me, lip curled. “We know he’s here. And we know you’re fucking with h—”
“Hold tight, brother,” Archer said, his hand smacking across his friend’s chest.
I stared back at Slade, swallowing. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. I’m here with my fiancé.”
Archer’s charming grin was probably meant to be calming, but
all it did was make me wonder if I needed to grab my wine and use it as a weapon.
“You stayin’ in there?” he asked, looking at my bags, the door, then my face.
“Y-yes.” My knees shook, threatening to buckle. I cleared my throat. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I just need to get inside.”
Archer nodded, the movement slow, grin fading as he said, “Heard there was a guy on this floor. His name’s Hawk. Real tall, dark-lookin’ fella.”
I gulped. “N-no. I don’t know anyone named Hawk.” I lost the grip on my other bags completely then. One fell sideways onto the floor, my new panties slipping out onto the carpet.
Slade walked over, picked up a pair, and twirled them around his finger. “Pretty.” He smirked, but it wasn’t a playful view in the least. Not like the other guy.
Face hot, I snatched them out of his hand and tucked them back into a bag. “I think you should go,” I said, voice still shaking.
Archer took a giant step back and stuck his hands into the front pocket of his jeans. “Nah. We’re just gonna wait right here for our friend.” Both of his brows waggled at me playfully.
“Oh, well, suit yourself then.” I’m not sure why I was lying. Niyol had seemed fond of these men when he spoke about them. But he was also running away from the club for a reason, which was why I didn’t spill.
As if on cue, Niyol flew down into the hall just seconds later, flushed, eyes wild, hair in disarray, and a long knife in hand. I gasped, eyes flashing between the blade and his face.
The second his gaze met mine his shoulders dropped, likely in relief. That was until he saw who stood at my sides.
“Jesus, Christ. You guys really fucking followed me?” His eyes said murder, teeth flashing like a wolf’s. At the same time, he slowly tucked his giant knife back into the waist of his jeans. I shuddered at the view, wondering if he’d had that all along.
Letting go of my breath, I eyed the three men, unsure of what would go down.
Her Wild Ride: An addictive, steamy biker MC romance suspense novel Page 14