Page 12 of Her Dirty Biker (Savage Kings MC #3)

Chapter twelve

Willow

He left me a note on the nightstand. Scrawled in quick, messy writing.

Lock the door. Don’t answer for anyone but me.I’ll be back before you know it.—D

It shouldn’t make me smile, but it does. Even when fear still twists in the pit of my stomach.

I walk into the small kitchen, wearing nothing but Diesel’s shirt. The morning sun filters through the thick blackout curtains, casting warm light across the floor. I make coffee, trying to feel normal, and perch on the edge of the couch with the mug in both hands.

He’s not just protecting me anymore. I know that now. It’s in the way he looks at me. The way he touches me. The way he told me I was worth everything. I want to believe it. I want to believe him .

I’ve spent my life running from men who made promises and didn’t keep them. Who said I was special, only to leave me behind when things got hard.

Diesel’s not like them.

Still, I’m scared.

Not just of the Sons of Decimation. I’m scared of falling for a man who feels like fire and permanence, of loving someone who could get himself killed trying to protect me.

I’m staring into the dark liquid when a sound breaks the stillness—A soft creak. My head snaps up, hold my breath, and strain to listen.

Then there’s another sound. This time it’s closer. The faintest shuffle, like movement on the porch.

My heart races. I set down the coffee and move toward the window, trying to peer between the edge of the blackout curtain.

Nothing.

I creep to the front door and check the locks, just like Diesel told me. Deadbolt. Chain. Everything in place.

I back away and then the back door explodes open.

I scream.

The world blurs. Two men in black rush into the cabin, one of them wears a leather cut with that twisted Sons of Decimation patch.

“Grab her,” the one in front growls.

I don’t think, I run, but I don’t make it far before an arm wraps around my body. I thrash, kick, claw, scream loud enough to tear my throat raw. My foot connects with something, but it’s not enough. They’re stronger.

“Let me go!” I scream. “Diesel’s gonna kill you—he’ll fucking kill you!”

They don’t say a word. A cloth presses over my mouth, and my body slumps before I can fight it.

And then, nothing.

I wake up groggy. My head pounds like someone cracked it open with a brick.

Everything’s wrong.

My arms are bound in front of me with zip ties. My ankles, too. I’m sitting on a hard, metal chair in what looks like a storage room, with concrete walls, exposed wires, a single buzzing light overhead. There’s a table across the room. Two chairs. A pack of cigarettes. A half-eaten bag of chips.

My throat is dry. My pulse is erratic. The fear hits me all over again. I’ve been taken .

“Look who’s awake.” The voice makes bile rise in my throat.

Guardrail steps into view, looking pleased with himself. His brown hair’s slicked back, his beard trimmed. He’s wearing a leather cut, the SoD patch stretched across his broad chest like a warning sign.

“What do you want?” I whisper.

He smiles. “We didn’t finish our conversation at the casino.”

“I didn’t start a conversation with you.”

He chuckles. “You were eavesdropping. That’s worse.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” I lie.

His expression darkens. “Bad liar.” He walks toward me slowly, crouches so we’re eye-level. “You told your biker boyfriend what you heard. And now the Kings are sniffing around things that don’t concern them.”

“They’re going to find me,” I say. “He’ll find me.”

Guardrail tilts his head. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

I freeze. “What?”

“You’re bait.”

I want to scream, to lunge at him, to scratch his eyes out, but I’m zip-tied and helpless.

“You use me to lure him out,” I say slowly, “and you’re going to die.”

“You got a mouth on you for someone tied to a chair.”

“Untie me and find out how much mouth I’ve got.”

His eyes flare, briefly amused, but only briefly.

He stands. “Diesel made a mistake. He brought you into our world.”

“No,” I whisper. “You did.”

The door opens behind him and another man steps in. He’s the slick suit from the casino, the one I’d seen whispering with Guardrail.

“I told you not to bring the girl,” he says to Guardrail, annoyed.

“She’s leverage.”

Langford stares at me like I’m an insect. “If she causes problems, I’ll put a bullet between her eyes.”

He walks out.

I start shaking.

Guardrail grins. “Sleep tight, sweetheart.”

He slams the door shut behind him.

I close my eyes and silently repeat one name— Diesel.