Page 26

Rachel

Fuck Dante.

Fuck him!

Fuck his mother, his father, his stupid brother, his bar. Fuck everything about him. Fuck his biker club, fuck his “my old lady” bullshit.

Fuck his controlling attitude, fuck his brutish nature.

Fuck him.

Fuck him.

Fuck. Him!

The issue being: I had just fucked him, and it was the most amazing sex I’d ever had in my life.

I was madder with myself for giving into my lust for him.

I had never felt such an animalistic need to fuck the brains out of a man before.

My skin was always on fire around him, my body burning to be touched.

By the time I got back to my room, I was so angry at myself I was directing it at everyone else. The day had barely started, and already I wanted to kill everyone.

I was still livid with myself for letting that fuckwit of a mother of his get a rise out of me.

I was livid with myself for having sex with Dante not once but twice today – if the first time actually counted.

I was livid that I didn’t say more to Dante, that I didn’t swallow my mistrust and leave with the police, and I was livid that I was still fucking here, the last place I wanted to be.

And that’s when a plan came to mind.

I wasn’t sitting here any longer, waiting around for the next time Dante wanted to either fuck or fight. He told me the door was open, and I was walking through it come hell or highwater.

I didn’t have many people left in the UK, but I did have one I could go to. I couldn’t promise the reception would be a welcome one, but it had to be better than staying here.

I didn’t exactly know where “here” was, but I would figure it out. I knew roughly how to get to the motorway, and once I was there, the road signs would direct me to familiar territory. Failing all that, I’d just ride until I came to somewhere far away, enough for me to stop and ask for help.

If I stayed here any longer, I’d end up hating myself.

Twice I had given into Dante and allowed sex to win.

I wasn’t going to allow him that sort of power over me.

He knew I wanted him, and it was fucking humiliating how easily he got me to surrender.

Already I was craving his body again, imagining his hands on me, his teeth biting into me. I couldn’t do it anymore.

I crept to the door and poked my head out, silently listening for any sounds of life.

I could hear Big Mama talking to Bee at the other end of the corridor, getting their literacy lesson done for the day so Bee could go and enjoy her free time.

I could hear noise from downstairs telling me the guys had been invited back in – most likely by Dante.

That would keep him nice and occupied since they would be busy greeting each other or ordering drinks.

No-one was going to be looking in my direction.

If ever there was going to be a time for me to slip away unnoticed, this was it.

I couldn’t fuck it up, or Dante would never leave me unguarded again.

I’m surprised he left me alone after what happened with Malfoy.

The man had a deep level of distrust within him, and he half expected me to go fucking all the men here.

I slipped into the hallway and closed the door behind me, hoping Dante would see it as a sign I was still in there, and walked towards the stairs as normally as I could manage – I didn’t want anyone coming up here at the same time and think I was up to no good by sneaking.

I reached the bottom step and paused, bending down to see into the bar.

Dante was there, laughing with an absolute unit of a man with a beard down to his chest and radiant green eyes that I could see from this distance.

They were already drinking together, looking as though they didn’t have a care in the world.

The bearded man looked around, and I ducked before he saw me.

I peered through the gaps in the banister, and finally realised who he was.

He was one of the men who had been shouting abuse at the Gellers when I was kidnapped.

Which must mean he was one of the more important members of the club.

He scanned the bar, seemingly absentmindedly, but something told me not to underestimate this man. There was a sharpness in his eyes.

I took great satisfaction in seeing Dante’s lip swollen and scratches on his arm. The lip was in anger; the scratches were another emotion completely. But no one else knew that, so at least they weren’t sitting there celebrating Dante’s victory in getting his leg over.

Or at least I hoped they weren’t.

One of the other men, someone I couldn’t see, shouted over to Dante, and asked about the “pig” that had been creeping around.

Knowing that they would be well immersed in their hatred of the police, I took that as my cue, slipping past the archway and to the coatrack nearby.

I grabbed a leather jacket, slipping it over my arms, and grabbed one of the helmets off the long cabinet next to it.

Once done, I took a quick glance behind me, saw that I was still alone, and grabbed a pair of boots and some keys off the wall and slipped out the back door, keeping a hold of it until it was almost closed.

I couldn’t risk it squeaking or banging shut.

Once outside, I pushed my feet into the boots, zipped the jacket up, and frantically pressed the key fob, pointing it at the many bikes until I saw one blink in response. I ran over to it, throwing my leg over and took a deep breath, absolutely shitting myself at the sheer beast underneath me.

It's fine. It’ll be fine, I told myself, resolving to dump the thing and hitchhike the rest of the way if needs be. So long as I put some distance between me and Dante, that was all that mattered.

You know you’re never supposed to ride another man’s bike; I thought to myself. The club would more than likely be madder about that than me leaving. Weird logic around these parts.

Without another thought, I slipped the key in and twisted, feeling it roar to life.

For the first time in a long time, I was grateful for my teenage rebellion.

Dante wasn’t the first biker I had been around.

Granted, the others weren’t part of a club, but they had still owned monster bikes, and I had ridden more than my fair share.

As intimidating as this bike was, I just had to have confidence and believe in myself.

With a deep breath, I pushed off, feeling the weight on my shoulders lessen the further away I got.

I took one last look at the pub in my mirrors, and then I was gone.