Page 93 of Ridin' Free

It was Maverick who did that.

“Hold on a minute. Let’s not forget what this is about,” he demanded. “Where is Phoenix now?”

The reminder that he didn’t know made him even angrier. Shrugging out of Maverick’s hold, Twister buried his fingers in his hair as he put a healthy amount of distance between himself and the bastard who sent his woman on the run.

She was in the wind, and he knew it.

That morning at her house, she wasn’t hiding in her room. She wasn’t ignoring him or shutting him out. She wasn’t there at all.

Rodeo. Mustang. Nobody could get her on the phone. He’d stake his life on the fact that she turned it off.

‘There’s so much you don’t know about me. So much no one knows.’

“Fuck!” he yelled as he continued to pace.

All at once, every hint she ever dropped began to pile up in his mind. He’d never felt so overwhelmed.

‘He’s not the biggest demon I’ve fought. Don’t feel sorry for me.’

‘I don’t—I don’t want to lose you.’

She hadn’t been talking about Scorpion’s return in the context of the club.

It was so much fucking bigger than that.

Yet, rather than running to him, fear had driven her away.

‘My house isn’t just my home—it’s my sanctuary...It’s the first place I’ve ever felt free.’

He stopped dead in his tracks, gripping the strands of hair in his fists even tighter. He needed to focus. He needed tothink.

Where are you, baby?

It was one thing for her to run from him.

It was another thing entirely for her to run fromhome.

Twister was smart enough to understand every time she ran from him, what she was really running from was herself. Her desires. Her heart.

‘You’re mine, Ali-Mae.’

‘Yes, daddy.’

He knew when he was being manipulated. He wasn’t a fool. He’d used and been used before. What he had with Ali was not that. What existed between them couldn’t be faked. She could run to the ends of the earth if she wanted—but no distance would change what existed between them. And what existed between them was more real than he ever thought possible.

No truth—hertruth—wasn’t big enough to break them.

She had to know it. He was convinced she’d felt it.

On the stairs in her house.

On his Harley in the park.

Where are you, baby?he asked himself again.

He felt sure she wouldn’t wander aimlessly.

He also knew Colorado was the last place she would go—which meant she hadn’t gone south.