FIFTEEN
Harper
Time went by, and Harper could have almost hoped her evil husband was dead.
Or if she was being nice —and he didn’t deserve any niceness after what he’d done to her—she hoped he’d grown bored and moved on.
Cain had left her family alone. That’s what she focused on.
The petty stuff at the construction sites had ceased, and she breathed a sigh of relief, able to look her father in the eye again.
And while the guilt ate away at her day and night, it distracted her mind from that other thing with Cain.
She couldn’t explain why she found his touch so addictive. However terrible she’d expected it to be, she always meant to let him exploit her. She’d been prepared for lousy sex. But Harper hadn’t been ready for the way he commanded her body to orgasm.
She couldn’t even claim it was against her will.
That would have been easy to digest.
But the moment he kissed her, she’d gone into a kind of sexual status bubble where all she craved was the rushing orgasms.
It was only afterward she hated herself a little more.
What she couldn’t work out was why he was giving her orgasms and not fucking her as she thought he would.
It had to be a kind of twisted punishment.
Cain wasn’t into her.
She questioned whether he was capable of selfless kindness and romantic interest. She doubted it very much.
“Harper.” She heard finally and blinked out of her disturbing thoughts to see her mom standing in the clubhouse doorway. “I was calling you for a full minute.”
“Oh, sorry, Mom, I was away with Tinkerbell.”
“That’s okay then, sweetheart. Are you packed?”
“I’ve been packed since Monday.”
Zara chuckled and strode across the forecourt toward her. Her mom was a total smoke show. Harper had always thought so. She was petite, with a tiny waist, and still wore her icy blonde hair halfway down her back in gorgeous waves. No one was ever surprised if they turned a corner and saw Zara and Rider in a clinch. She had parents who were still hot for each other. Mother and daughter were dressed similarly for the long ride ahead. No biker, women included, ever climbed onto a motorcycle in inappropriate clothing for long journeys. Harper wore leather pants and a pink tank top. Her mom’s shirt was Disney- decorated. No other club queen was as delicately fierce as Zara Marinos. And over the years, she’d come up against other MC first ladies who thought they could walk all over Zara because she looked like a gentle princess. It didn’t take them long for them to realize their mistake.
Harper felt immense pride in her, hoping she’d one day resemble her mother.
“Are you sure you don’t want to ride in the truck with Zane?”
“Mom, the ride down to Texas on the back of a bike is part of the fun. Even if it is Knox driving,” she grumbled, and Zara laughed, giving Harper a sympathetic smile.
Harper had a biker heart, a biker soul. She’d have to be dead to not climb on a bike seat.
The rally was just what she needed.
She’d see old friends from other clubs, they’d party, and she could forget the shitshow that was her secret life.
More importantly, she wouldn’t have time to wonder what trouble Cain was causing for the Souls. It was like he had a homing device on her because he always turned up when she thought about him.
That’s why she shoved that man right out of her brain, and some twelve hours later, her tired legs stepped down from Knox’s matte black motorcycle. She hung the helmet on the handlebars and stretched her stiff spine. They’d only stopped twice for bathroom breaks. Being in the Souls’ formation of more than one hundred bikes was a sight to see, and she got a thrill as everyone gawked at them going by. Every Souls chapter from around the country would meet them there. It was a big deal—the Souls’ rally in her dad’s home state of Texas.
Each year, they rented out an entire field from a local farmer and made their weekend camping ground with tents and trailers. Fortunately for Harper and her family, the prospects traveled down several days previous to set up the double-wide trailer. As much as Harper had a biker soul, she didn’t enjoy sleeping on the ground.
“You good?” Knox asked. “You’ve been quiet, even at the rest stops.”
“Just excited to see everyone,” she smiled, and Knox squinted like he sensed she was lying. “See your groupies, little brother. I’m sure they’ve been watching out for our convoy for hours, primping their little boobies for you.”
He smirked and leaned down to kiss her cheek. It was the smirk of a man comfortable with his giant ego. “Don’t get into trouble. I’m gonna be busy. Real busy.” He winked, and Harper screwed up her face.
“Too much info. But don’t get anyone pregnant.”
She had no room to lecture Knox on what not to do. Not when she had a whole-ass secret husband.
But, being a big sister meant advising on what not to do, so Harper grinned as she saw him strutting away to his group of girls.
After showering off the road dust and changing into skinny jeans with a Renegade Souls MC fitted t-shirt, Harper fussed with her hair for a few minutes, applying only minimal makeup, before leaving the trailer. Her parents and grandparents were surrounded by other chapters.
Later that night, sitting around the bonfire, sharing stories and eating hot dogs with a bunch of the legacy kids from Diablo Disciples, she felt her phone vibrating in her back pocket. It felt like the first time in months she’d been relaxed enough to enjoy conversations, to laugh with people again, and not worry that a tyrannically crazy man was plotting to kill her family. She stuffed the last bite of spicy hot dog into her mouth to fish out her phone and nearly choked to death seeing the lock screen message.
CAIN : Move away from the boy in the leather jacket. If he touches you again, he’s dead.