Free Breaking Free: A thriller, M/F, erotic romance by Danielle Aretino Page B

he practically saw red when Missy flinched back. She shook her head, that thick ponytail bouncing, and before he could get a word in, Dan had pulled her off the barstool and taken her to one of the darker corners of the bar.
     
    She looked back at him once, a look in her eye he'd become familiar with over the years: help me .
     
    But he didn't. He couldn't. Not here. Not now. So, Red swallowed down his rage and pushed his way out of the bar, knocking shoulders with lesser members of DBD, not caring when they called him an asshole. Gotta get out before he pounded someone's face in, pretending all the while it was Dan he was beating into the ground. Couldn't stay here. He needed a smoke.
     
    And maybe a few shots of gin to forget to look on Missy's face before the darkness swallowed her whole. 
     

Chapter 2
     
    Red winced at the beating his truck's suspension took on the unpaved driveway that led to Dan's house. Tucked away behind the towering pines, the leader the DBD biker gang had an old bungalow that Red and the inner circle had helped him fix up over the years. He'd learned a long time ago not to bring his bike out here: it was the most expensive thing he owned, the item he prized above all other possessions, and the driveway scratched the shit out of it. Not to mention if the weather had been bad, the rain would leave a layer of mud that would splash from the base of the wheels to the top of the handlebar.
     
    It wasn't worth bringing the bike out here. Dan always encouraged him to do so: he said it warned the neighbours not to fuck with him, but Red suspected the poor folks who were subjected to Dan's drunken shouting and raving parties probably knew not to mess with the guy. He wasn't exactly the warm and fuzzy kind, not even from a distance.
     
    If he could help it, Red didn't venture out there unless under an extended invitation, but he'd been trying to talk to Dan all week about a parade the DBD had been signed up for in a few months. He was concerned that the community wouldn't come out if they knew a notorious biker gang was riding along, and the charities who built floats probably needed the crowds. It didn't seem fair. DBD wasn't the kind of gang to escort children to courthouses or rescue puppies from abusive homes. They were rowdy and destructive—a parade was just another place to further slander their reputation.
     
    So, after a microwave dinner in front of the TV (plus a beer), Red climbed into his pick-up and headed for the sticks to confront Dan face-to-face. He could only hope the guy was alone: he was easier to persuade without the rest of the inner circle goading him on. Sometimes, there was even a flicker of reason in that psycho's brain, and Red hoped he might find it tonight.
     
    Situated in wooded clearing, the bungalow had a few lights on when Red arrived. Dan's bikes were out front, pristine, and Red figured he'd had Missy detail clean them sometime recently. Shaking his head, he cut the ignition and hopped out, slamming the door behind him. The curtains were half-open, a beacon on the dark spring evening, and as he approached, he swore he saw one rustle.
     
    He waited on the little rickety porch, rapping his knuckles at the front door a few times, and then contemplating lighting up a cigarette. Inside, the TV volume lowered, and the dogs—hounds, most of them—howled from the kennels behind the house. When there was no immediate answer, he knocked again, and the door finally opened—barely—as he fished his lighter out of his pocket.
     
    Red frowned at the face staring back at him, the features obscured by shadows. "Missy?"
     
    "Dan's not here," she told him, and her words trembled noticeably. "Don't know when he's coming back. Maybe tomorrow."
     
    Against his better judgement, he wedged his foot in the door to keep her from shutting him out, and when he stepped closer, he saw the damage his leader had done to the poor woman's face. Her lower lip was swollen, possibly split