Free Hell's Knights by Bella Jewel, Becky Johnson Page A

“Saving someone only works if that person wants or deserves to be saved.”
    “Have you looked at yourself lately?” he yells. “Have you?”
    “Yes!”
    “No, you haven’t! Addison, you’re sinking. You need to take a good hard look at yourself, this isn’t how you want to be, God dammit, wake up.”
    Before I know what he’s doing, he’s got me and drags me into the bathroom. He flicks on the light and shoves me in front of the broken glass. “Look!”
    I stare at the girl in the mirror, the girl with hollow cheeks, dark rings under her eyes, and ratty hair that holds no color. She’s broken; she’s damaged. When did I let myself become so…so horrible? I swallow down the bile that rises in my throat. Who is that girl in front of me?
    She’s not me.
    I know what she is.
    She’s a nothing.

~*PRESENT*~
     
    “Have you seen Cade?” I ask Jackson one afternoon, about two weeks into my stay.
    Cade hasn’t spoken a lot to me since I over reacted at him, and while I understand it, it’s kind of pissing me off.
    Jackson nods, and points towards a small shed up the back of the lot.
    “He’s workin’ on his bike.”
    “Thanks.”
    “What you need him for?” he asks, wiping some grease onto his jeans.
    I avoid his gaze. “Just to chat.”
    “No woman just chats with Cade. Be careful, Addison. He’s not the kind of man that will change your life.”
    I stare up at him, and then I narrow my eyes. “Someone probably said that about you once, Jackson. It doesn’t mean it’s true.”
    “Look where love got me.”
    I turn and walk towards the small shed. “Who said love had anything to do with this?”
    Jackson doesn’t get to answer, and that’s fine by me. I don’t want to hear his answer. Not right now. I know it’ll only be something that makes my heart hurt. I reach the small shed, and can hear the sounds of tools tinkering. I grip the handle, open the door and step inside. It’s only a small space, and in the middle, Cade’s bike is hoisted up and he’s standing underneath it, completely shirtless. I stop walking, and I let my eyes travel over his body. Hot damn, what a body it is. Cade is ripped in a way a girl can only dream about. Broad shoulders, tight chest, washboard abs and that sexy-as-sin man ‘V’. He’s covered from head to toe in streaks of grease.
    “Jackson told me I would find you here,” I say, and he stops what he’s doing to turn and stare at me.
    “If I wanted to be found,” he says, turning his spanner, “I wouldn’t be down here with the door closed.”
    Well excuse me . I walk over and stop next to his bike. I run my fingers over the shiny paint. Cade stares at me, his head slightly tilted to the side. He drops his tools, and wipes his hands on his jeans before stepping in front of me.
    “What do you want, sugar?”
    Well, at least he’s calling me sugar, that’s a start.
    “To apologize.”
    He raises his brows. “Didn’t think you were the type to apologize.”
    This just makes me angry. I’ve come in here to admit I’m wrong, yet he’s mocking me and playing games.
    “You know what, if you’re going to be a jerk-off, I won’t apologize. Go fuck yourself, Cade.”
    I turn, but he grips my arm and spins me back around. He presses my body to his, and I can feel his hot skin against what little of mine is exposed.
    “You always run off when things don’t go your way?” he murmurs.
    “I’m not a typical female, biker. I’m not going to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness. I’m not going to follow you around hoping you will talk to me again. If you’re pissed at me, then I’m not going to fight to change it.”
    “So fuckin’ stubborn,” he says, and wraps an arm around my lower back. He presses me even closer.
    “Do you mind? Let me go.”
    “I don’t mind at all, and no.”
    “Cade…”
    “Sugar…”
    “You’re so fucking frustrating,” I protest, squirming.
    “And you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, tryin’ to fight me