Free Psy (MC Biker Romance)(Daredevils of Drake County Book 1) by Sennah Tate Page A

from her voice. She couldn’t let him know how just the sound of his voice spiked her adrenaline. Just thinking about him on the other end of the phone had her glancing around for exit routes. It was ridiculous of course. He couldn’t hurt her here. He was in jail, she was safe. There was a restraining order in place and Greg couldn’t come within 200 yards of her shop. There was no need for panic.
    So why was her heart beating so frantically against her chest? Why were her palms suddenly so clammy? Why did she have a lump in her throat that she just couldn’t swallow? Everything about him put her on edge in the worst way possible.
    “Aw, come on Bells, you can’t still be mad at me?”
    Like hell she couldn’t be.
    She clenched her jaw at the snippy response. She hated that he used that pet name for her. It brought back an unwelcome flood of memories. She didn’t want to remember the look in his hazel eyes as he kissed her and whispered how much he loved her in her ear. She didn’t want to remember his strong hands on her hips or the way he filled her so perfectly. She couldn’t afford to entertain thoughts like that. What Greg did was unforgivable. He’d nearly killed someone and put her in the middle of it all! All she ever wanted was a quiet life and there was no way that would ever be possible with Greg.
    He was a trouble magnet. She didn’t know if it was a natural state of being of if he preferred things that way. Maybe he liked the constant excitement and drama. Serabelle did not. She didn’t like danger. She didn’t like being a co-conspirator to federal crimes. That was the furthest thing from what she wanted.
    “What do you want, Greg?” Her voice was shaky. She hated that she couldn’t hide her nerves with him. For every memory she had of him over her ecstasy-filled body, there was another of Greg on a drunken bender, accusing her of terrible things. Memories of him strung out, getting angry and punching holes in walls, doors, mirrors, whatever was within reach, were all too common. She tried to brush them aside. They’d had good times, too… right up until the end.
    “Well, I just thought you might be happy to know that I’m getting out tomorrow. I guess I was wrong,” he sounded genuinely surprised. Could he possibly think after everything that she would ever want to see him again?
    When he took his plea deal, Sera was assured that he would spend at least five years in jail, even if he didn’t have to fulfill the entire twenty year sentence.
    It had only been eighteen months. How the hell could something like this happen? She thought she had so much more time to build a life, to go somewhere where Greg couldn’t find her and wouldn’t follow her. Now it was here and her vision began to tunnel.
    “W-what? How is that possible?” Her voice was barely a whisper now. She was afraid that if she spoke the words too loudly that they would become real. They weren’t real. Greg wasn’t really getting out of jail, right?
    “Over-crowding, good behavior, the usual,” he replied flippantly as if it were nothing more interesting than the weather. Not something that was life-shaking, earth-shatteringly devastating. Surely he was just trying to torture her. This was psychological warfare. He couldn’t really be getting out already. No, not possible.
    Her fingers gripped the handset with white knuckles and she felt her knees wobble under her.
    “You’re joking right?” That was one seriously fucked up joke, if he was, but she would take that any day over the possibility of him telling the truth. The idea of Greg being released from jail early made her skin crawl. She didn’t even want to think about the things he could say or do to her once he was free. A restraining order was just a piece of paper, after all.
    “Ha ha, you wish. I’ll come see you first thing when I get out,” his sharp laughter felt more like a threat and the rest of his statement was coated with a thinly veiled promise