Wild Ride (Wind Dragons MC #4.5)(11)

“No woman to hide shit from.”

My lip twitches at that. I put my phone number in and hit SAVE. “Next time you need me, call me. I would have come with you, you know that, right?”

He turns to me, and our eyes connect. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good,” I say, just as Ronan returns to the table. He eyes Talon for a second, his lips tightening, but he only asks if I’m ready to leave. I tell him that I am, kiss Talon on the cheek, and then head out with Ronan.

It makes my heart hurt, everything that Talon told me. These aren’t things that everyday men have to worry about, but for Talon and the other bikers, it’s just part of their lives. I understand what Bailey was trying to tell me now: it’s a whole other world.

I spend the ride home replaying our conversation in my mind.





CHAPTER SEVEN




Talon

I REALIZE I’ve f*cked up when I stare at her number on my phone. I’m too close. I’ve done such a good job of staying away from her up until now, but one real conversation between us has me craving more.

The Wind Dragons are only now starting to consider me an ally, and this might rock the boat with them. I know the men don’t like me near their women, and Tia, by association, is under their protection. Yes, they don’t one hundred percent trust me, but they will in time. And I want them to. They’re a powerful MC, and I’d be stupid not to want them on my side—not to mention, it would make my friendship with Anna a hell of a lot easier.

Rake, however, still hates me for his own reasons—reasons that are beyond my control—and he isn’t going to like me being anywhere near his old lady’s best friend. Okay, my kidnapping Anna was in my control, but my being raised by his biological father isn’t. If Anna could forgive me, I don’t know why Rake still has it out for me. I see Anna like a sister, and Rake could be like a brother if he ever allows it. Without overthinking it, I send Tia a text.

Did you get your car back?

Yeah, I wasn’t one for smooth messages, or anything like that. I don’t even know why I’m messaging her. Why don’t I want to stay away? I think the more important question is, why can’t I stay away? I’m being selfish, wanting her when I know she’s better off without me, away from the Wild Men. Still, when she replies, I can’t help but smile. Me. Smiling at a f*ckin’ text message.

No hello? Yeah I did. All is back to normal. How are you doing, Talon?

Hello, I type back. I’m doing okay . . . Fuck it. What are you doing tomorrow?

I delete the last line.

I can’t see her tomorrow.

Tomorrow I’m tracking down some of the men who are after Shayla. In this world, sometimes it’s kill or be killed. I don’t like taking life, but I’ll do it to save those I care about, and I won’t feel guilty about it afterward. I adore Shayla, and she didn’t ask for this. It’s up to me to take care of her, and I’ll do it any way I can. These men aren’t innocent, nor are their own hands clean. It doesn’t justify it, but at the same time it relieves my conscience.

I’m here anytime you want to talk.

Fuck.

Other women send me nudes without me even asking, and she’s here offering me a shoulder to lean on. She’s one of the good ones.

Thanks. I appreciate that. I’m here for you too.

I stare up at my ceiling, from where I’m lying comfortably on my bed. When I hear a soft knock on the door, I ignore it. I’m not interested in any of the women here in the clubhouse, looking for a biker to satisfy. I haven’t had sex in a few weeks now. I don’t know what’s wrong with me; it’s like I’m stuck in a rut. Or like I’m ready for something new—the past doesn’t satisfy me anymore, and neither does the present.

I’m surprised you brought up the kiss . . . I was starting to think it was a figment of my imagination.

I cover my eyes with my arm. The mention of the kiss just fell from my mouth, I never had any intention of bringing it up again. I was in a vulnerable place after dealing with Carla’s grief and anger over Zip’s death, and I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying. I was open and unguarded for that moment, and Tia just happened to be witness to it. I don’t like showing weakness, because it can always be used against you. Although she might not know it, in my opinion that’s what I showed her.

I’m surprised I brought it up too.

Ouch, she replies instantly.

That doesn’t mean I don’t think about it all the f*ckin’ time, I reply to her, cringing at how much of a * I sound like. Deciding it’s safer to step away from the phone, I put it on silent and leave it on the side table beside my bed. I don’t think I’ve ever texted a woman in my life just for casual conversation. The messages I normally send are telling them to come over for sex, or something along those lines. Not that I f*ck around a lot, because I don’t, but I do have needs that many women are willing to sate.

Compared to some of the other men in the clubhouse who have different women every few days, I’m pretty much a saint. The Wild Men version of a saint anyway. I cringe again, realizing that compared to an average man, that’s not very saintly at all.

There’s another knock at my door. I groan and roll over, burying my head under my pillow. Eyes closed, I pretend it’s a woman who wants only me. Not one who doesn’t care who she gets, as long as he’s good-looking and a biker, and not one who just wants to f*ck the president of the Wild Men. A woman who wants me for me, because we share some kind of connection, some kind of pull.