Free [smg id=31099 type=normal align=center width=150] by Kasey Millstead Page B

sister’s too good for you.”  He swings again, his clenched hand sliding off my cheek.
    I get one more hit in before I’m dragged away from behind by Johns.  Digger has a struggling Rad in his grasp and he’s pulling him out of the room. 
    “What the fuck is goin’ on, dude?”  Johns asks.
    “Nothing,” I grunt.
    “You got Willa warmin’ your dick?” he asks, baiting me.
    “You got two choices, Johns.  You either shut your fuckin’ mouth, or I’m gonna knock all your teeth out of your fuckin’ head.”
    “None of you pricks can take a joke,” he mumbles while walking away.
    I turn around and slam my fist into the door, slamming it shut in the process.
    Fuck.
    “Rad!  What did you do to him,” I hear Willa shriek.
    Fuck!
    “I thought I told you never to come here,” he growls at her.
    I swing the door open and stride toward them.  I tug her into my side when I reach them and give Rad a death glare.  “Don’t you fuckin’ talk to her like that.”
    “Or what?”
    “I’ll give you a matching shiner on your right eye,” I taunt him with a smirk.
    He wipes a dribble of blood from his lip and looks to his sister.  “What the fuck’s goin’ on, Willa?”
    “She’s mine.”  I answer for her when she doesn’t reply.
    “You’re claimin’ her?” he asks in disbelief.
    I jerk my head once, firmly.  
    “Fuck me,” he mutters.  “You want to be with him?” he asks.
    “Yes,” she answers.  “Please don’t be mad, Conrad.  I know this isn’t what you hoped from me, but it’s what I want.”  She ends with a shrug.
    “Come here,” Rad says gruffly.
    I let Willa go and she walks the two steps to her brother.  I watch as he wraps his arms around her and holds her tight, whispering in her ear while she nods.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Willa
     
     
     
     
    “Could do worse, baby sister,” Rad whispers in my ear. 
    I nod against his shoulder.
    “I’m happy if you’re happy.”
    “Thank you,” I choke out.
    I sigh in relief and step out of his embrace.  “I love you,” I tell him.
    “Love you, too,” he replies before looking to Oak.  “Take care of her.  You hurt her, I’ll gut you.”
    “I won’t,” Oak promises.
    After they shake hands, Oak takes my hand and leads me out to his bike.
    Silently, he hands me a helmet, which I place on my head.  Then he expertly fastens it in place before telling me to climb on.  I swing my leg over the leather seat and situate myself on the bike.  Once he slides on, I shuffle forward, pressing my front tight against his back.  I wrap my arms around his waist, loving the way his hard body feels against my palms. 
    He starts the bike up and the roar of the Harley fills my ears as the vibrations travel through my body.
    He pulls out and tears down the road.  I can’t help the smile on my face as the wind rushes past me.  I grip him tighter as he flies down the freeway, my laughter spurring him on to go faster.
    After we’ve ridden for a while, he slows down and turns left down a rough, dirt lane.  The grass on either side of the road is lush, green, and thick.  The trees are shady and bountiful and I bet if I stood in the field, it would be as peaceful as you can imagine.
    Oak comes to a stop underneath a large tree.  He turns the bike off and climbs off.  Taking my hand, he helps me off and then he begins leading me up a short gravel path, through thick ferns of all shapes and sizes.
    “You’re not taking me to the killing fields, are you?” I somewhat joke.
    He turns his head and his gaze drops down to find mine.  He raises his eyebrow in question.  “Killing fields?” he asks, humor in his tone.
    “Yeah, you know, where you and the biker brethren bury all your victims after you’ve slaughtered them.”  Of course, I really don’t believe they do that!  I’m pretty certain that they don’t do many illegal things.  I’m sure there are worse people out there in the world.  Or, maybe I’m just naive and