by Brook Wilder
She wrapped her arms around herself, but maintained eye contact with him.
“Maybe we do,” she said. “You wanna tell me why you’ve been following me?”
Prescott raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t thought she’d noticed him. She was more observant than he’d given her credit for.
“It’s a secret,” he said, teasing her a little.
She scowled at him. “Well, maybe I should call the police, then. Let them figure out your secret.”
He shook his head. “If you were going to call the police, you would have done it by now.”
She deflated a little at this, because she knew he’d gotten her there. Still, he was loving the fight in her. She stared defiantly at him, without fear. He wasn’t expecting that. From the quiet nature he’d observed over the past week, he’d thought his very presence would intimidate her enough to tell him everything. She knew he was part of a motorcycle club, and she knew what that meant. He could tell because of the way she glanced at his kutte. But still she was fighting him.
He had to admit he was intrigued. He wondered how that fire would come out in the bedroom. For a moment, he imagined it. The sight of her naked body, all those curves on display for him. Her limbs wrapping around him, gripping his cock, guiding it inside her body. Red hot desire boiled up within him at the very thought, and he had to shake the idea away. He was here for a reason, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Still, after this was all over, he wouldn’t mind taking her to his bed.
With the way she was looking at him now, he couldn’t help but push her a little bit. Especially after what she said next.
“Alright, you win,” she said. “I’m not going to call the police. But I still think I have a right to know why you’ve been watching me.”
It was too perfect. He smiled down at her, and he saw it when she swallowed nervously. She refused to break eye contact as he took a step closer.
“Why do you think I’d be watching you?” he asked, leaning down so he could whisper the words intimately to her. “You’re worth watching.”
Her breath caught, and she backed up against the wall again. Unlike with the other man, when he closed in on her, she didn’t push him away. She did look a little afraid, but there was something beneath that fear. Like she’d considered it exactly what he was thinking. He reached out and very gently ran his hand down her arm. She gasped quietly, and again his mind was flooded with images. Her gasping beneath him as he plunged into her. Her breath warming his skin.
“So what… you were following me because you… find me attractive?”
She sounded breathless but also incredulous, like she couldn’t believe that was his motivation. She clearly didn’t see herself the way he did.
“Attractive is putting it lightly,” Prescott said, leaning closer. “You are delectable.” Her chest was rising and falling faster now, drawing his attention down to her breasts. “I’m used to taking what I want,” he continued, dragging his gaze over her perfect body. “Right now, if you let me, I’d do more than take you. I’d consume you.”
He met her eyes again, and saw the desire in them. They were close enough now where he could kiss those perfect lips if he wanted to.
But that wasn’t what he came here for. Despite what he said, he would never take advantage of her right now. She had just been assaulted, and she was scared. When he had her, he wanted her to be ready and willing. Begging for him. Something told him that day might come, but for now he had to focus.
He pulled back a little, chastising himself for almost getting sucked into his own game.
“There’s another reason I might have been following you,” he said.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“I’m investigating something.”
He saw the reaction in her eyes. It was just a brief flash of fear, but he knew he’d hit a nerve.
“What are you investigating?” she asked quietly.
“An accident,” he replied, watching her face. “A few days back, there was a motorcycle crash near here. I’m trying to figure out what caused it. See, something about it makes me think that it wasn’t an accident at all. I’m interested in figuring out the truth.”
There was a definite reaction now. Her face fell, her eyes widening with recognition and fear. He had her now. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Prescott felt his own heart pounding now. He’d finally found his witness. All he had to do was get the information he needed out of her without scaring her off. But something told him she wouldn’t run. Not now. She wasn’t the type to do that.
No matter what she did, though, he was going to get his answers.
Della’s heart was pounding. She was a little worried that she was going to pass out. This was just too much. Just when she thought this biker was going to kiss her, he had pulled the rug out from under her. What worried her more was that she might have let him kiss her.
From this close range, her biker admirer was nothing like she expected. He was taller than Simon, with muscles that suggested it would have been all too easy for him to follow through on his threat to break Simon’s bones. Della couldn’t help looking him over, noting the bulges of his arms and the flat plane of his stomach. She found herself imagining the tight ab muscles she would find under his shirt if she dared to explore his body.
He certainly seemed to want her to, and she cursed herself for the reaction her body had to him. When she looked up into those deep, brown eyes, she saw so much pain and hurt. She could tell he’d been through a great deal. She could also tell how dangerous he was. This was a man who was prepared to do anything to protect himself and his own.
Worse still, it seemed he knew that she had witnessed the murder. After all that had happened, her worst nightmares were coming to life. First Simon, and now this. She wished she could just sink right through the floor.
“I…” her voice trailed off as she cleared her throat.
How would she get out of this?
Handsome as he was, she knew she couldn’t trust this biker not to hurt her. She was as terrified of him as she was attracted to him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said finally, her voice weak.
He smirked, then took a step back, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
“Why don’t we sit down?” he offered, pulling out a chair at the table she had vacated earlier.
She eyed him warily, not sure what his angle was. He sighed, shaking his head slightly.
“Despite what you might think, I really am just here for information. I want to know the truth about what happened that night, and I think you might be able to tell me.” He sat down at the table and looked at her. “I promise, I won’t hurt you.”
Della didn’t want to believe him, but there was a slight vulnerability in his tone that made her walk over to the table and sit across from him. It was obvious he was still keeping plenty from her, though she decided he was telling the truth about wanting information and not hurting her. There was more to it than that, but if he felt like he could tell half-truths, then so could she.
Della decided to tell him a vague account of what she’d seen. If she didn’t provide too many details, she wouldn’t implicate herself in motorcycle club business. She would give him just enough information to assure him that she was not going to be useful after all.
“Alright,” she said. “Here’s what I know.”
The biker leaned forward in his seat just a little bit, and she knew she had his attention. Before she could begin her half-truth story, however, they were interrupted.
The doors swung open, and the tromp of oncoming footsteps drew their attention away from each other. Della realized her nightmare was only just beginning.
Simon was approaching them with two campus police officers in tow. The biker dragged his gaze over to them and scowled. Della could sense that this exchange wasn’t going to go well.
“That’s him,” Simon said, pointing. “That’s the one who attack
ed and threatened me.”
One of the officers beckoned to the biker. “Sir, could you please step away from the table for a moment.”
Della saw the biker considering the three men, deciding what he was going to do with them. Slowly, like a snake uncoiling itself, he stood up. It was instantly clear that he was taller and stronger than all three men.
Della stood up, too, but hung back uncertainly.
“What am I being accused of?” the biker asked, his voice too calm for comfort.
“You attacked me earlier,” Simon repeated. “He tried to mug me, but I didn’t have my wallet on me. So he roughed me up and left.”
The biker barked out a laugh. “I don’t see any marks on you. Did I beat you with a pillow?”
Simon scowled. “You threatened to break my bones!” He turned to the cops. “He threatened to break my bones!”
The cops looked tired. Simon was livid, and the biker looked like he was gearing up for a fight.
“Threatening is different than attacking,” the biker said quietly. “Would you like me to show you the difference?”
“I dare you to!” Simon returned. “It’d make everything so much easier.”
Della knew this was not going well. The cops were even starting to take Simon’s side. She could see them tensing up, reaching for their belts. Something bad was going to happen if she didn’t stop it. In a split-second decision, she stepped forward and laid a hand on the biker’s forearm. She could feel his tightened muscles there and was distracted for a brief moment. Then she set her attention on the cops.
“Do I get a say in this?” she asked. “I was present for the whole incident.”
“You were?” one of the officers asked. “Yeah, please tell us what happened. In your own words.”
Della didn’t understand the last part right away, until the officer glanced at the biker. She realized he was considering the possibility that the biker had threatened her, too, or something like that.
She shook her head, lowering her hand from the biker’s arm. With everyone’s attention on her, she kept her eyes focused on the cops’ shoes.
“I came here to do some shopping before going home,” she began. “I stopped for a bite to eat, and Simon uh… he joined me unexpectedly.” Her cheeks were burning red-hot right now. This was so embarrassing. “Simon wanted to know if I’d go out with him. I said no, and he got angry. He grabbed my wrist and pushed me against the wall. If anyone’s guilty of assault here tonight, it’s Simon himself.”
She raised her gaze to the police officers confidently. One of them looked at the biker.
“How did you fit into all this exactly?”
“He intervened,” Della said quickly. “He was in the area and he noticed I was in trouble, so… he saved me. I’m grateful to him.”
“You can’t believe that,” Simon said.
“I don’t know,” one of the officers said. “Guy’s right about the marks. You look okay to me, bud.”
The other cop nodded at the biker’s kutte. “Hell’s Reavers aren’t exactly known for muggings. Petty crime is beneath you, am I right?”
The biker smirked. “Yeah, we usually have better things to do on Friday nights.”
“Right then,” the cop said. “That just leaves us with one issue.” He turned to Della. “Do you want to press charges?”
Della crossed her arms around herself, refusing to meet Simon’s gaze.
“No,” she said. “He didn’t hurt me. He was just confused and upset. But… I don’t really want to have him around right now either.”
“Sounds fair to me,” the cop replied. To Simon he said, “Why don’t we go take a walk? We can escort you off campus. Maybe the fresh air will clear your head.”
“This is outrageous!” Simon shouted, his face red with anger. He pointed an accusing finger at the biker. “He’s a criminal! You should be arresting him.”
“We’ll talk about this outside.”
The cops converged on either side of Simon and escorted him firmly out the door. Della relaxed slightly, seeing him go. She hoped this incident would teach Simon a lesson, and that she wouldn’t get any more trouble from him.
Somehow she doubted he was going to leave her alone.
“Thanks for that,” the biker said.
“Hm?”
Della had almost forgotten he was there.
“You had my back,” he said.
She shrugged. “It was the right thing to do. Simon’s nuts.”
He laughed. “That’s putting it lightly.” Sticking out his hand, he added, “I’m Prescott Graves.”
Della considered his hand for a moment, then reached out to shake.
“Della Hicks,” she replied.
His hand closed around hers, his grip warm and surprisingly gentle. Della didn’t know why, but the brief contact affected her, made her feel warm inside. She found herself blushing, and quickly dropped her hand.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” Prescott said, gesturing back toward the table. “Before we were interrupted, you were going to tell me something.”
Della nodded, feeling exhausted. They returned to the table and sat down. She tried to figure out what she was going to say. It helped that she didn’t find Prescott quite so intimidating right now. Taking a deep breath, she began her story.
Prescott was not in the best mood. He didn’t like tangling with the police at the best of times, but being harangued by a pair of rent-a-cops was a new low. If Della hadn’t stepped in when she did, he wasn’t sure what would have happened. It wouldn’t have been good, that much was certain.
But she had stepped in. Even though she didn’t trust him, even though she was scared of him, she had risen to his defense. He didn’t blame her for wanting Simon gone. Prescott wasn’t sure why, but part of the reason he was so ready to give in to violence earlier was out of a strange need to protect this woman. He hated thinking about how Simon had scared her. She was more scared of Simon than she was of Prescott, and that said something.
He found himself drawn to the faint blush in her cheeks when she touched him, could still remember the feel of her hand on his arm earlier. She was so delicate compared to him.
“It was dark,” Della said, bringing him back to the present. “My roommate, Kate, and I were walking home from a late night study group. We heard a couple motorcycles, saw one of them crash.”
She shrugged lamely, her voice trailing off.
“What kind of motorcycles were they?” he pressed. “Did you see either of the riders? Did you see their kuttes?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. Like I said, it was dark. I didn’t see much of anything at all. Just some shadows.”
“Did the shadows have a distinctive shape?” Prescott asked, getting desperate. “Any small detail would help.”
“I’m sorry, but no,” she said. “It all happened so fast. We ran home and didn’t look back.”
Her phone made a noise, and she grabbed it.
“It’s not Simon, is it?” Prescott asked.
He didn’t know why he did it, only that he was still worried for Della. Hard as she was making this for him, he couldn’t stand the idea of Simon coming back for her.
“No, it’s Kate. She wants to know where I am.” She typed out a quick message and sent it. “Is there anything else you need? If not, it’s getting late. I should get home.”
As if on cue, Kate herself stormed into the building.
“Don’t you check your phone?” she demanded. “I was looking for you. I caught a glimpse of Simon and he did not look happy.”
Kate came up short when she saw who was sitting across from Della. Her eyes went wide and her face paled.
“I'm sorry,” Della said. “I’ll explain about Simon later. This is Prescott, we were just –”
Without a word, Kate closed the distance between them and grabbed Della’s arm, pulling her to her feet.
“We’re going home,” she said. “Right now.”
Pr
escott was on high alert now. The way Kate was reacting was even more extreme than Della. They both clearly knew plenty, way more than Della was letting on. He just needed a chance to prove it. If he called an emergency meeting at the clubhouse, he could take Della there. Once she was in the room with Al, he could watch her, see if she reacted. He was not about to let his one chance to prove Al’s guilt walk out the door.
Kate was still yanking Della’s arm, trying to drag her away. Della was resisting, at least, which meant that a part of her didn’t want to leave him behind. Maybe she was more willing to help than she let on.