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Chapter Twenty-Five

Rocco

I watch from the shadows as she pulls her car into the drive.

The moment Matt and I left the house, I sent Rafael, my oldest brother, a message asking him to create a diversion that would require Gerrard’s immediate attention. I needed to get Hallie out of the house. Leaving her there with him was like a new form of torture I never want to endure again. The piece of shit is an abusive bastard through and through, and keeping my hands off him was like a thinning thread of electrical cable ready to combust into flames at any minute.

Steering my motorbike onto the drive, I park alongside her car, but she doesn’t so much as lift her head off the steering wheel at the sound of my engine. My throat constricts at the way her bunched shoulders shake as sobs rack through her. I throw open the car door, and she turns her hazel eyes toward me. They’re rimmed in red and full of sorrow, and I hate myself for the part I played in putting it there.

I lean into the car, unclip her seatbelt, and lift her into my arms. “Roc…” Her mouth falls open as I deposit her on my bike. “What are you…” I maneuver her leg so she’s straddling it while I walk around the back and make sure her ass isn’t on display. “Rocco?”

Then I throw my leg over my bike, tug her hips toward me, and grab her hands and place them beneath my leather jacket. I hold them against my chest while she continues to protest. “Hold on tight, Little Red.”

I rev the engine, delighting in the squeal that leaves her and the way she stiffens against my back while clinging to me as I reverse out of the driveway.

Then I open the throttle and speed off down the street. With my girl pressed against me, I weave in and out of the traffic and head out of town. If my girl thinks this is over, she’s about to learn we’re only just starting.