Page 16 of The Biker and His Bride
RILEY
I came to in the back of a moving van.
It smelled like oil and mildew and bad memories.
My wrists were zip-tied, ankles too, and my mouth tasted like metal and fear.
The doors opened and two men hauled me out, dragging me into a cabin that looked like every nightmare I’d left behind in Charleston.
And there he was.
Caleb.
Button-down shirt. Polished boots. Same smug, aristocratic smile.
“Riley,” he said like we were bumping into each other at brunch. “You look... well.”
“You’re a psycho,” I spat.
He sighed. “Always so dramatic.”
He waved the others off, motioned for them to leave us alone. Then he sat across from me, legs crossed, hands steepled.
“I’ve missed you.”
I glared at him. “Let me go.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
He stood and moved toward me slowly, crouching to brush a piece of hair from my face. I flinched.
“I loved you, you know.”
“You controlled me.”
“I gave you the world.”
“You gave me a prison.”
His smile thinned.
“You left me for a biker,” he said, disgust in his voice. “A filthy, broke biker.”
I met his gaze. “And I’d do it again.”
He slapped me.
Not hard. Not enough to break skin.
Just enough to remind me who he was.
But I didn’t cry.
“You think you can play with men like me?” he sneered. “You think Rogue can protect you?”
“He already did,” I said. “You’re the one hiding.”
That pissed him off.
He grabbed my face, leaned in like he might kiss me.
“I still love you, Riley. We can fix this. I’ll forgive everything.”
“It was never love,” I whispered. “It was ownership.”
His face darkened. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know exactly what I’m saying.”
He stood and backed away, chest heaving.
“I gave you everything.”
“And now you’re going to lose everything.”
He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
And I knew, right then, that Rogue would come for me.
Because what Caleb didn’t understand was that I wasn’t some pawn in his twisted game anymore.
I was part of something bigger now.
I was part of the club.