After getting out of the car and opening the hood, pretending like I know what I’m supposed to be looking for, I realize that I don’t.
Shit.
My car is old, but it’s been reliable up until now, and I’m pissed this is the moment it has chosen to be disloyal. I’m going to have to call a mechanic and hope that it can be fixed right now, or I’m screwed.
I type cheap local mechanics into my phone when I hear the familiar sound of a motorcycle rumble, a sound I’ve gotten so used to that it is just background noise. I’ve been living near the Knights of Fury Motorcycle Club for a few years now, and even though there’s a block of vacant land between us, I still call them my neighbors.
My mother and sister told me I was crazy for knowingly moving next to a bunch of bikers, but my house was such a good price, I couldn’t turn it down. I suppose I have them to thank for that, because no one else wanted to live near them. Besides, what really is a motorcycle club? I suspect it sounds a lot more nefarious than it really is.
And it hasn’t been all bad. Our interactions have been limited to the casual head nod as they ride by. There was one moment where a woman was in a pickle and dropped in to use my phone. There’s been no crime in the area, and I surprisingly feel pretty safe.
I start dialing a mechanic and the rumble gets louder as a black Harley comes to a stop behind my car. It’s kind of been our unspoken rule that the bikers and I live harmoniously, but don’t really engage, so it surprises me when someone gets off the bike and removes his helmet.
Hello, Mr. Biker. He’s one good-looking biker, that’s for sure. Dark hair, dark eyes, stubble and a tall, built body dressed in all black. He slowly approaches, eyes on my car.
“Need some help?” he says, his deep timbre sending a shiver down my spine.
“That would be great.” I’m desperate at this point, especially when the phone rings with no answer from mechanic number one. “I don’t know what happened. It only made it down the road before it just stopped.”
He comes to stand next to me, and fiddles with the engine before getting in the car and trying to start it to no avail. “I’m going to have to take it in to the clubhouse,” he says, frowning. “We can fix it and get it back to you ASAP.”
“I appreciate the offer,” I say, shifting on my feet as he stares at me. “But I’m kind of supposed to be in Vegas today.”
I’m going to have to call the last person I want to call to ask if I can borrow his car.
My father.
Ugh.
“Vegas? We’re actually heading that way ourselves. We can give you a ride, if you want,” he says, shrugging. “I’m Renny, by the way.” He holds out his hand for me to shake.
Renny?
I vaguely remember hearing this name before. Maybe it was when that woman used my phone.
“Isabella,” I reply, shaking the tattooed hand. It’s big, yet warm and soft, despite the calluses on it.
“I know who you are,” he murmurs. “You helped Skylar when she needed it.” Skylar, that was her name! “Now why don’t you let us return the favor? It’s the least we can do.”
“I didn’t really do anything,” I say, surprised he remembers something so small. I mean I let her inside to use my phone, and that’s about it. Anyone would do that for someone that they see is visibly in distress.
“You helped. That day...” He pauses with a far-off look on his face. “It was a tough day. We lost someone important and you helping her... Well, it meant a lot. So thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, knowing that arguing would be pointless. “What are neighbors for, right?”
He grins at that, a little dimple popping up on the right side of his cheek, distracting me. “So what about my offer. Do you want to hitch a ride to Vegas?”
His offer sounds tempting, but I really don’t know these men, and I’d rather drive there by myself. Even if that means I have to call my dad.
Who am I kidding? While I wouldn’t feel comfortable driving to Vegas with Renny and his friends, I’d probably still choose that option over asking Dad for help.
My phone rings, bringing me back to reality, especially when my sister’s name pops up on the screen.
Shit.
“Ariel, hello?” I say, raising a finger to Renny apologetically. I turn my back a little for privacy, glancing down at my shoes, silently praying that everything is okay.
“Izzy, have you left? I’m in labor, it wasn’t just Braxton Hicks. You need to be here now!” she says in a panic. “The way these contractions are coming on...” She starts to scream in pain, and I hold the phone away from my ear, wincing. “Fuck!”
Man, I am never having a baby if that is what I have to go through. My older sister is one of the strongest women I know, and she has a high pain threshold, so anything that makes her sound like that gets a nope from me.
“I’m leaving now,” I promise, turning back to Renny. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Ariel. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she says before hanging up.
I weigh my options and the likelihood that I will make it to Vegas in time. I may not know Renny, but I promised Ariel I would be there for the birth of her child. My niece or nephew. And I will not let her down.
“So when are you leaving?” I ask before I can give any more thought to what I am doing. I need to go, and I need to go now. It’s a five-hour drive, and maybe, just maybe, I will make it before the baby’s head crowns and ruins Ariel’s vagina.
“Was going to be in an hour or so, but we can make it right now,” he says, pulling out his phone. “I’ll tell the men.”
“Just how many men are we traveling with?” I ask as he types out a text message. “And what about my suitcase?”
“Three of us, and don’t worry, you can trust me, and the rest of them. You’ll be safe, I promise you. Skylar can vouch for us, if that makes you feel better,” he says, brown eyes pinned on me.
Oddly enough, I believe him. I’m not afraid for my safety around them. I mean they’ve been my neighbors for over a year and they haven’t bothered me once. “Suitcase?”
“We’ll get there faster on the bike,” he replies with a shrug.
If this means the five-hour drive could be cut shorter, that means I’ll get to Ariel sooner. I don’t need anything in my suitcase.
“Fuck it,” I tell him. “I’ll buy new clothes there.”
His lip twitches, and he nods toward his black motorcycle. “Get on. I’ll try my best to get you there on time.”
“Thank you, Renny,” I say, grabbing my handbag from my car and crossing the strap over my body. I have my purse, ID and credit cards; anything else can be bought.
“Have you ever ridden before?” he asks as he helps me climb on, his large hands on my waist sending shivers up my spine.
“Yeah, I have actually,” I tell him, smiling fondly, remembering the times I’d ride with my cousin before he passed away. “On the back of one, anyway.”
“Okay,” he murmurs, studying me with a slightly narrowed gaze. I’ve always had a weakness for men with blue eyes, but suddenly brown is looking extremely appealing. “I’ll skip the debrief then. We need to stop at the clubhouse first, but then we will head off. You have the address of where you need to be?”
“Yeah, I do,” I reply, reciting the name and address of the hospital to him.
He nods and hands me his spare helmet. “I’ll have your car towed to the clubhouse and it should be ready by the time we get back from Vegas.”
“That’s great. Thank you,” I say, feeling grateful it’s one less thing to worry about. “I just need to get there.”
The thought of Ariel in labor alone makes me feel sick to my stomach. The baby decided to come two weeks early, otherwise I would have been with her this entire time. The father is my sister’s ex and wants nothin
g to do with the baby, which makes my role even more important.
Renny gets on in front of me and fires up the engine. “Let’s do it then.”
Feeling awkward, I put the helmet on and hold on to the back of his leather vest, very aware of my personal space, knowing that I’m about to be pressed up against this man for the next few hours at least. I’m not exactly sure how I’ve found myself in this situation, or how this Renny ended up being my knight in shining armor, but I’m glad he was around.
I’ve heard a lot of things about the MC—like that they engage in criminal activities and are dangerous womanizers. I know they are judged in the community and that no one wants them here, but I want to form my own opinion. Even the real estate agent who sold me my house told me that he wished they would move away, because they are nothing but trouble.
But from what Renny is doing for me, they don’t seem too bad.
Or at least I hope they aren’t.
Because I just signed up for the next few hours at their mercy.
Ariel, I’m coming.
Don’t miss Renegade by Chantal Fernando, available now wherever Carina Press ebooks are sold.
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Copyright © 2019 by Chantal Fernando
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ISBN: 9781488054037
Temper
Copyright © 2020 by Chantal Fernando
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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Temper Page 21