Free Ransomed MC Princess #1 by Vivian Cove

don’t struggle as the man starts carrying me up the hill. I’m too shocked to do anything but cling to him.
    Halfway up, I see the bike. And, oh boy, I am so fucked. Every muscle in my body tightens.
    “That’s not your bike, is it?” the man says. Even though he poses it like a question, it isn’t.
    Shit. “Um…no it’s not exactly mine.”
    “How, exactly, did you get it?”
    Damn, what’s with these questions? “I, uh, borrowed it.”
    “Oh.” He waits a second. “Does the person you borrowed it from know you borrowed it?”
    “Yes.”
    There’s a purposeful silence coming from his end.
    “I’m not lying!” I tell him. I mean, Damien did see me driving away on it, after I stole his keys and kneed him in the groin. It wasn’t like it was some big secret.
    “So, why’d you leave the party?” the guy continues.
    Oh, why wouldn’t I leave that awful party was a bigger question! “Things weren’t going well.”
    “Did someone make you feel uncomfortable?”
    I think of Damien’s mad face. “You could say that.”
    He stops. His demeanor changes, his shoulders tightening, mood darkening. My heart skitters. “Who was it?”
    “Who was what?”
    “Who’s the asshole who made you want to leave?”
    I feel like electricity just ignited my veins. I like hearing the nasty sex demon being called an asshole way too much. “Damien.”
    “The kid from Dawn's Rebellion MC?”
    “Kid?” I scoff, trying to get another good look at him. “You’ve got to be about as old as he is! Who are you callin’ a kid?”
    “Just that he’s who’s gonna take second after Dawn's Rebellion’s prez passes on the torch.” His grip on me tightens. “What did he do to you?” his voice is soft, so damn soft.
    “He made me feel like a fool, again. I wanted to show him up tonight. The guy thinks he owns me.”
    “But he doesn’t, right?”
    “Fuck no! I hate him.”
    We’ve reached the top of the hill. The guy sets me down on the road right next to the dented part of the guardrail where Damien’s bike hit.
    “That’s his bike, isn’t it?” he asks.
    My toes curl. “Maybe.”
    His teeth catch the moonlight, flashing as he grins. “Gotta say, I like your style babe.”
    Suddenly, totaling Damien’s bike doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. “Thanks.”
    “So,” the guy says, climbing over the guardrail after me. “We got a few options. If you don’t want a stranger drivin’ you home, I can call someone to pick you up.”
    I consider this for all of four seconds.
    In the first second, I imagine calling Cheyenne…who is currently at the meeting with my father.
    In the second, I think about calling Candy, who totally does not have a car since we called a cab, and leaving an angry voice message.
    In the third, I consider calling Damien.
    And in the fourth, contacting one of Damien’s brothers, like Gracie or Ryder…but since they’re totally “bros before hos” the one who’d come to get me would be Damien.
    “What’s the other option?” I ask.
    “I can take you to that cabin, see what’s up, and from there either take you to the hospital or home.”
    I don’t hesitate. “Okay. I want that one—I want to go with you,” I tell him.
    If this surprises him, he doesn’t let it show. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Chapter 8
    He bends over to adjust the rear suspension of the bike so I can ride with him. I cross my arms over my chest, squinting as I try to make out his patch in the moonlight. It’s faded and it looks like the corner of it is peeling. Is that a serpent, maybe? I recognize the large shape in the center as a skull, but that tells me nothing. Nearly every club here sports one of those on the back.
    He stands, brushes his hands off on his jeans, and turns. “I’m guessin’ you’re not a virgin.”
    My eyes shoot open. “WHAT?!?” Where the fuck had that come from? And how the hell was it any of his business?
    He chuckles like he’s amused by my response.