Obsession (A Bad Boy's Secret Baby)(84)

And like a thorny elastic, that association was all it took for Flora to snap back into my head, interrupting anything productive.

If she just wanted my bike, then why didn't she take it at the gas station when I was surrounded? She had more than enough opportunity to just leave, but instead she drove it like a psychopath, directly into the throng of armed assholes, to save me. It didn't make any sense.

Was everything we shared the last few days a lie, or wasn't it?

There had to be something I'd overlooked. Did she actually care enough about me to not want to see me hurt, or was that just her way of repaying a debt from the times I'd saved her?

“Why bother to save me if she was just using me?” I asked aloud, leaning against the side of a pickup truck, hoping that if the words were given sound I might be able to make some sense of them.

I had so many questions.

The only answer I received was from the high pitched bark of a small brown frog that had jumped onto my boot from under the shaded truck. I bent down and let it hop into my palm. “What do you think, oh wise little amphibian? Was Flora using me?”

With glassy eyes, its vocal sack inflated, and it croaked again.

“You're just trying to get laid, aren't you? Can't blame you there, little guy.”

I put him back down and watched him vanish under the truck, not a care in the world. Food, sleep, sex and comfort. It was amazing how much I had in common with a frog. I had changed since meeting her, though. I wanted more than those four things now.

I had every reason to want to throttle that fucking girl, but mostly, and begrudgingly... I just missed her. I was in tune enough with myself to know when thinly-veiled anger was keeping me from accepting hard truths. I learned that in one of my post basic training classes in the Army.

The sound of a vehicle, tearing ass down the road, snapped me out of contemplation. I slipped out of sight until it passed and refocused on what was important at the moment; getting out of here.

It being Sunday, I had the pick of the litter. This place had a dozen vehicles kicking around that wouldn't be missed for at least a day, which was more than enough time for me to ditch it and find something else.

I checked the pickups first, but those were all locked. The next step up was the trailerless semi truck. That, along with everything else, was locked as well.

“Huh.” Usually on sites like these, there'd be so many operators in and out, using the equipment, that it was just easier to leave one door open and keep the keys in it. Most regular people couldn't drive half this shit.

The only thing left that was even remotely practical was the big, fuck-off, eight-wheeled dump truck. What the hell...

Click.

“No shit.” The door swung open easily. I jumped in and checked all the usual spots, finally finding the keys under the passenger seat. I stuck them in the ignition, ready to head out, when it struck me. My plans had changed so many times over the course of the week, I couldn't keep track anymore.

Where am I going?

I guess it didn't matter. Anywhere I went, either the Knights or some other asshole would be looking for a piece of me. I entertained the idea of just saying 'fuck it' and letting them find me, or maybe heading out of the country. Probably to Mexico.

But both options rang out as extremely hollow. Whether I escaped the country or not, it still felt like I was running. Running from death or from being the man I always wanted to be— the man that I got a glimpse of last night.

The man that wasn't afraid to say his real name, and finally let someone close.

Flora cared about me, she was just scared and didn't want to put me in any more danger. The notion was absurd, being that everything was mostly my fault to begin with, but it was also endearing.

She had no chance surviving the entire Knights MC on her own. Saving her sister was a pipe dream. What kind of man would I be if I let her die like that?

No, I knew the second I'd kissed her where I was headed.

And it wasn't Mexico.

I breathed heavily with a newfound resolve. There was something calming about the clarity of purpose that came with holding onto something more important than myself. I'd felt that way only one other time, when I was in the military before all the shit went down.

I missed the hell out of that feeling. I couldn't bear to let that slip through my fingers again.

I was going after her.

There were no illusions about Miami being more than a one way trip for me, so I needed to let someone else know what the Knights were up to, while I still had the chance. I thought about the few bridges I hadn't burned and the choice became obvious.

I called the one person I thought would actually answer.

“Ronin?” came the familiar voice.

“Yeah, it's me.”

Poet sighed. “I don't have anything for you yet, except that somehow the Knights found out that you'd been cut loose. Lucky's put up a bounty for you.”