Page 84 of Ridin' Free

Ben said no more before he turned for the exit, extracting his phone as he went.

I wason auto-pilotfor the rest of the night, trying my damnedest to compartmentalize my thoughts, all the while combating the devil within telling me torun. In theory, it was the easiest way out—but even thethoughtof leaving everything behind tore what was left of my tattered soul wide open.

I had a life in Gillette. It may have been a dull one—but it wasmine, and it was more than I thought I’d ever have. I purposefully kept my distance and protected my secrets from everyone around me knowing this day would come; knowing the choice I would have to make; knowing the darkness of my past would eventually catch up to me, forcing me to run and to startover again. And yet, in spite of my best efforts, time had made me weak.

It wasn’t complacency. It was comfort. It was contentment.

I was fuckinghappy.

But I knew better.

All along I knew it wouldn’t last.

The cruelty of life had rarely shown me mercy—and in my vengeance, I’d only made it worse. I’d tempted fate. Now, it had come to collect.

Mustang and the other Stallions never came back. When the band’s set was over, the bar cleared out early. I didn’t have to shoo anyone out the door at closing, and Rodeo and I tackled our end of the night tasks in record time. He’d been around for a couple years less than me and didn’t know Scorpion personally—but I could tell he was antsy to join his brothers. He barely said goodnight before he was out the back door, headed for the clubhouse.

My feet felt heavy as I made my way across the empty lot to my Bronco. When I was behind the wheel, I hesitated to start the engine. Logic begged me to go home, pack a bag, and hit the road—but my inner monster would hear nothing of it. Leaving would be the death of it.

I did this to myself.

I dug the perfect grave.

I let my guard down.

Now—I didn’t want to leave.

Jamming my keys into the ignition, I started my Bronco and peeled out of the parking lot, speeding my way off the compound. When I arrived at my destination, I found the garage was still open—his Hydra-Glide parked beside his truck. In an attempt to keep myself from second guessing my decision, I didn’t linger in my vehicle. As soon as my boots hit the ground,I practically sprinted toward the door—shutting the garage behind me.

I discarded my purse atop the dryer in his mudroom as I passed, headed toward the light. Ben was in the kitchen, the fridge door open in his hand. He glanced my direction, caught my eye and asked, “Hey, baby—you hungry?”

Rather than answer him with my words, I pressed my palm against the refrigerator door, forcing it closed. I then squeezed into the space between it and him, reached for either side of his kutte, and tugged him toward me. He didn’t resist, and I soon had his lips on mine. Except, as he kissed me, giving me exactly what I wanted, rather than turn me on, our hungry exchange broke me.

As our tongues fought for dominance, he grabbed hold of the front of my neck, coaxing my chin up and my head back—his grip every bit as possessive as he had the right to be. I was his, even if admitting it was nothing more than confirmation of my weakness.

Fuck.

Shit. Fuck.

How did I get here?

How had I let this happen?

My mind was in such a stormy fog, I didn’t realize I was crying until Ben pulled away from me abruptly. Looking up at him through the blur of my tears, I saw him scowling at me in confusion.

“Ali? What’s wrong?”

The truth rose in my throat like bile, making me want to gag. It wanted to be vomited out, but I swallowed it. I couldn’t tell him. I knew if I did, he’d never look at me the same way—and that broke me more than anything.

No one had ever wanted me the way he did.

I wasn’t ready to lose that.

I wasn’t ready to losehim.

“Sparky, say somethin’.”

It wasn’t until he demanded I speak that the sob I was holding back spilled out of me.