Damon:A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel(116)

"Wait, wait, not him! He didn't do anything! It wasn't him!" I remember  crying out, detaching myself from my mother to rush towards the car. It  wasn't fair. He'd saved us, and now he was in handcuffs in the back of a  car. A cop intercepted me, blocking me from getting all the way to the  car as it began to pull away. I struggled against the cop, swatting at  his chest.

"Get out of the way! Move! Stop! Don't take him!" Hands pulled at me  from behind; turning, swatting blindly, I saw Kevin's face in front of  mine. "You have to make them stop! He saved us!"

"Samantha, stop. Stop. They're taking him down for processing, but the  deal stands. He'll be okay. It's just procedure until we get all the  details ironed out. Trust me, he's going to be okay," Kevin said,  holding my arms in his hands as fresh tears streamed down my face.

"You don't know that! He could be there for years!" I cried, wanting to  collapse. Hadn't I been through enough that day? Couldn't I get a single  fucking break?

"Samantha, stop, you need to stop. You need to calm down. You've had a tough day … "

"A tough day? A tough fucking day? I want to see him! Take me to see Boon right now!"

"I can't do that, Samantha, you need to trust me, it's going to be okay.  Your father is the sheriff, you know he'll take care of everything,"  Kevin said, making total sense but infuriating the shit out of me  nonetheless. Regardless, I was growing tired. I mean, I'd already been  tired. Now I was … empty. I stopped struggling, letting my body grow limp  as exhaustion washed over me. I let myself be led, docile, into the back  of another squad car. My mother was already there and I leaned in close  to her, lying my head on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry … " I murmured, already falling myself  slipping away as my head rose up and down with each of her breaths.

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay, it's okay … "





30





When I woke up, it was morning. I blinked, dazed, as I looked around. I  knew, immediately, that I was in Becky's room. I let my eyes drift  around the room, seeing all the familiar decorations. Where's Mom, I  thought, panic gripping my heart again like a clutched fist. Becky's  face suddenly appeared around the door and she entered, holding a glass  of water.

"You're up," she said, simply, before setting the water down and wrapping me in a hug. Alicia appeared soon after.

"What happened?" I asked. I'd thought that the first time I woke up in a  friend's bed with no idea of how I got there I'd be drunk.

"Your boyfriend saved the day, your mom and dad are both at the  hospital, and my dad had to carry you up here last night," Becky said,  making room for Alicia on the bed.

"Oh," I said, the only thing I could really think of. I felt like my head was full of cotton instead of brain.

"Here, drink," Alicia said, grabbing the water and handing it to me. I  guzzled it down, not realizing how thirsty I was until the contents of  the glass had disappeared in a few gulps.

"Can … man … can I go see Mom and Dad?" I asked, my priorities very specific.

"You don't have to. Alicia just got off the phone with your mom. They're  coming here to pick you up in a few hours. You're gonna stay at a hotel  until they get the house fixed," Becky said.

"Is Boon … is he still … ."

Becky and Alicia exchanged a look that told me as much as anything they could have said.

"He's still in processing," Alicia said finally. My head drooped. I'd slept for hours, but I still felt exhausted.

"Do you know … I mean … what's happening?"

"They're trying to get him off, I guess. I don't know, they're talking  to the people whose car you … uh … borrowed. And some other DA's from other  states. It might be awhile, Samantha," Becky said, reaching out for my  hand. I nodded. I should have expected as much.         

     



 

"Can I see him?" I asked, not sure why Alicia and Becky would know that.  Alicia shrugged, looking at Becky, who threw her hands up.

"You're gonna have to ask the po-po that," Alicia said. I had to smile a  little bit; she was just so damn silly all the time. I counted my  blessings in that moment: my Mom and Dad were fine, and my best friends  were there with me. I could count myself as lucky. I just hoped that  Boon would find himself lucky, too …





31





On the third day after everything went down, we moved back into our  house. The damage hadn't been very substantial, so it hadn't taken long  to get it back to normal. We'd also installed a security system. My  father still had a cast on his arm, and my mother was still jumping at  every strange noise, but things were starting to feel more normal again.

But I hadn't heard anything about Boon, or his ultimate fate. My father  wasn't allowed to go back to his job for a week, under strict orders  from the doctor, and even though it seemed like he spent hours on the  phone trying to figure out what was going on, no one could give him a  straight answer.

We were all over the news. There were editorials about us. Camera crews  surrounded the house at all hours, though by the time we moved back in  much of the hype had begun to dissipate. There were calls for  interviews, weird looks on the street, the whole deal. This wasn't the  sort of fame anyone asked for or wanted, and it was wearing on me, to  say the least. Between not knowing what was happening to Boon and being  pestered by journalists all the time, I was still experiencing intense  anxiety.

Which was normal, and to be expected. So said my new therapist, at  least, who I'd agree to see only upon my parent's urging. They wanted to  make sure I wasn't totally scarred from the experience. My mother was  also seeing someone. It helped to talk to someone, but the one thing I  really wanted, more than anything, was to talk to Boon.

So you can imagine what happened to my little heart when I got a text on that third day.

Tag, you're it.

From Boon's phone. And of course it was him. The picture attached was  almost similar to the first time he'd ever texted me that challenge: a  city skyline. This time, though, I knew exactly where he was. It was  someplace I'd been before, many times.

When you live in the mountains, there's no shortage of scenic overlooks.  I nudged my little car slowly up the mountain, wary of the dips and  sharp turns that made the drive harrowing during the day, never mind at  night. As I pulled up to the overlook area, I saw the glint of metal as a  motorcycle came into view in my headlights.

Shutting the engine and getting out, my heart was pounding in my ears. I  was excited and nervous all at once. I looked around, feeling my  heightened emotions playing with my mind, searching for him. I didn't  see him anywhere.

And then I felt him. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me  backwards. I twisted in his embrace, our eyes meeting. And then it was  gone: the nervousness, the anxiety, everything that I'd been feeling  since my life had crashed so spectacularly to the ground. He was here.  He was holding me.

"Hello, gorgeous," he whispered, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

"Hello, stranger," I whispered back. "When'd they let you out?"

"Couple hours. Thank your dad for me. I got community service, parole. I  gotta stay in this dumpy city for a few years, I guess. Don't know what  I'll do with myself," he said, leaning in close, his stubble tickling  my cheek. I pulled away, wanting to see him from head to toe. When I  did, he grew concerned. "How are you? Are you … okay?"

I could only nod and fight back more tears. Happy tears.

"I'm fantastic, now," I said, choking on my words. "What about your … your dad … ?"

Boon held out his hand and I took it. He led me back to my car, sitting  me on the hood. I'd worn a short summer dress, and the metal under my  legs felt warm.

"Let's not talk about my dad right now," he said, brushing my hair away  from my face. I bit my lip, naughty thoughts already percolating in my  mind.

"Well, what do you want to talk about, then?" I asked, aware of the  slight teasing in my voice. When did I become such a little sex kitten?  And why did I like it so much?

Because he makes you feel sexy, and brave, I thought, answering my own  question. It was true. There, that night, I felt like Boon was a pillar  of courage, and that every moment we were close to each other a little  more of his courage spilled into me.

"Well, maybe we could finish that conversation we started all those days  ago, in your room," he said, leaning in and gingerly lowering the  straps of my dress. I hadn't worn a bra; it was hot, the middle of  summer, and too many layers only made you hotter. I watched him roll my  dress down, revealing my milky-white breasts, full and curving in the  darkness.         

     



 

"Yeah, that sounds good," I said, breathlessly, as he began to kiss  along my neck. I closed my eyes, savoring each delicate contact between  his lips and my skin.