Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
ATHENA
My money ran out last night after I used the last of my cash on a place to stay. I’m sure I’ll be kicked out of the rent-by-the-hour motel by the time I get back from my little excursion, which is why I have my bag and everything I own with me.
The trusty duffel bag is coming in handy as I nonchalantly peruse the aisles of food and essentials at a nearby gas station.
Every so often, I’ll “accidentally” drop a protein bar or a bottle of water in my bag.
The plan is to steal as much as I can conceivably get away with to survive long enough to…
I don’t know. I don’t fucking know anymore.
I’m broke. Homeless. On the run with too much baggage and too little time. But where am I going? Maybe I should’ve taken Acacia up on her offer to drive me up the mountains with her.
My brilliant plan to leave the trailer park and its troubles has ended in ruins.
Stupid me. I’ve spent twenty-one years learning over and over that the only person I can count on is myself, yet I naively handed my trust over to my father, thinking he’d keep it safe.
Instead, he crushed it and fed it to the wolves.
I can’t go crawling back to my mom. Not only would it be humiliating, but it might be dangerous. I didn’t exactly leave on good terms with my mother or her deadbeat boyfriend, Seth. They found the cash I had saved up from my multiple jobs and spent a good chunk of it on drugs before passing out.
When I got home from a double shift at the diner, I realized what had happened.
Furious and frantic, I knew that was the last straw.
Mom and Seth were passed out, half-naked on the couch, and I just…
knew. This was going to be the last time I saw them.
At least my final memory will be one of them doing what they loved: drugs.
So, I stole what was left of my money back and flushed the remaining drugs.
A little parting gift from me to them. I don’t imagine they handled their sudden and unexpected sobriety well.
I turn down another aisle, then duck behind the shelves when the front door opens with a ding. Without even looking, I know who it is. My stalker. The enigmatic biker who hasn’t left my side in days. Not only do I smell his spicy sandalwood and diesel scent, but I feel him whenever he’s near.
What started out as suspicion when he parked outside my motel room all night has turned into interest. Instead of fear, there’s a thrill shooting down my spine at finally being caught by the beastly biker and his large, strong hands wrapping around my–
“Hey! What are you putting in your bag?” the attendant behind the counter shouts. My face heats, and I look around to see if he could possibly be talking to someone else, but it’s just my stalker and me inside.
I quickly zip up the bag and plan the fastest route out of the store and into the nearest alley to hide. Before I can make my move, however, the mysterious man who has been following me speaks up.
“She’s with me. I was going to put everything on my tab,” he says to the man behind the counter.
Both the attendant and I look at the biker like he’s full of shit, but he simply pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and places several hundred-dollar bills on the counter.
“That should cover it, don’t you think?”
My mouth hangs open at the interaction happening in front of me. I have fifty dollars of stolen goods, if that. So why did he just pay quadruple that amount?
The gas station attendant snaps out of it and grabs the cash, taking a second to count the bills like a prick. This gives me the opportunity to slip out of the store mostly unnoticed. At the last second, I turn my head to get a good look at the man who has been following me around Colorado.
He has dark, close-cropped hair, stubble, and those honey-colored eyes that shouldn’t send tingling waves crashing through my body.
The man winks at me, freaking winks! It’s not even fair how his dimples pop out when he smirks.
God, he’s lethal in his looks alone. I’m sure he’s lethal in other ways, too.
I manage to stumble through the door with my ill-gotten gains, hoping to put some distance between myself and my stalker. I make it nearly to the other side of the parking lot before the gas station door swings open, revealing my stalker in all of his six-foot-something glory.
He looks like a fucking Adonis with the bright sun silhouetting his broad, muscular frame.
Tattoos crawl down his right arm, which he lifts to run his fingers through his short hair.
The movement makes his arm flex, drawing my attention there.
I’m trying really freaking hard not to imagine those strong arms wrapped around me and shielding me from every nightmare I’ve ever had.
The man looks around the parking lot, his gaze stopping right on me. He’s a few dozen feet away, but I swear I can feel the heat radiating off of him as if he’s standing right next to me.
I take a few steps backward, caught between my curiosity about him and my need to get the hell away from everything and everyone. The man holds his hands out, palms up in surrender. I furrow my brow, allowing him to take a few tentative steps toward me.
“You don’t have to run,” he tells me. His voice is deep and smooth, washing over me and wrapping around my spine. He’s barely said five words, and already I’m under his spell. “You can trust me.”
That snaps me out of my dreamy, lustful haze. I laugh bitterly and hike my duffel bag higher up on my shoulder, ready to run. “Trust the man who has been following me for days now? Why would I do that?”
“I promise you, all I want is your safety. My brothers and I at Wicked Riders are trying to dismantle the auction and break up the Sons of Destruction. I think you probably have similar goals?”
I tighten my grip around the shoulder strap of my bag, my sweaty hand cramping up from the tension.
I want to believe him. Fuck, it would feel so good to go to bed without looking over my shoulder.
I almost forgot what normal life was like before I made the massive mistake of tracking down my father.
Those comforting brown eyes plead with me to trust him, give in, and let him shoulder the burden of existence with me, even if it’s just for the night. I squeeze my eyes shut, breaking our connection and bringing myself back down to earth.
“The last biker I trusted to protect me ended up selling me to the highest bidder, so you’ll excuse me for not trusting a word of your shit.” I finish my declaration by staring daggers at him, trying to get him to back down.
Instead of anger or annoyance, like I was expecting, the mysterious Greek god of a man softens toward me.
He nods in understanding, though he looks wounded.
In fact, he rubs the heel of his hand over his chest, as if my words physically hurt him.
In this moment, he doesn’t look like a mighty beast; he looks like a puppy that just wants to cuddle.
I don’t know how to handle the conflicting emotions rising up in my chest, but I don’t want this man to see me fall apart.
I spin on my heel and sprint down the alleyway behind the gas station, once again, having no plan in place.
I just needed to get out of there before I did something stupid like surrender to his care and blindly pledge my allegiance to another MC.
As I near the end of the alley, I hear a few cars passing by on the main drag through town. I only made it a few towns over before my cash ran out, but at least it’s better than trying to ditch my dad while living in the same small town.
A familiar laugh pierces my thoughts and syphons the air from my lungs. It’s cruel and loud, and filled with venom. I come to an abrupt halt right before stepping onto the sidewalk, peering out slightly so I can get a better view of whoever is laughing. It can’t possibly be my dad, right?
When the cackling laughter tears through the air once more, I know it has to be him. I catch a glimpse of his big, round belly and the scraggly brown hair barely covering the bald spot on the back of his head.
Fuck. Fuck! Now what? Where do I go? And with what money?
An arm snakes around my waist and pulls me backward, pressing me against the side of the brick building. I’m about to scream when a hand covers my mouth. Sandalwood and spice. It’s my biker.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he whispers. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
I nod, observing the sincerity in his light brown eyes.
His brow is furrowed in concern, and the corners of his lips deflate into a frown.
He removes his hand from my mouth, then strokes my cheek in the most tender touch.
I can’t help but lean into it, soaking up his affection like an attention-seeking cat.
“It’s… It’s my dad,” I choke out, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
“I know. And three of his filthy fucking goons.” The anger behind his voice settles something deep in my chest. This man clearly has no respect for my dad or any of the Sons of Destruction members, which gives him at least a dozen points in my book.
“I… how…?” I’m not even sure what I’m asking, but my biker simply gives me a small, understanding smile.
“You’ve been through a lot these last few days,” he states as if he knows. I suppose he does, since he’s been following me around from that very first night when I escaped the auction. “I know you have no reason to trust me, Athena, but–”
“How do you know my name?” My heart hammers against my ribcage, and I tense beneath his gentle touch.
To his credit, the man backs away slightly, sensing my discomfort. The small gesture speaks volumes, and chips away at my hardened heart ever so much.
“How did you think I tracked you down?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“Stalking me,” I reply with a tiny smirk of my own.
“Perhaps a little, but I did my research, too. Athena Todt, from West Virginia.”
“I’m not from anywhere anymore,” I mutter.
The man slowly raises his hand, silently asking permission to touch me. Once again, I’m nearly brought to tears by the simple gesture. I nod, and he cups my cheek, infusing some of his warmth and strength into my weary bones.
“I don’t care where you came from, my little goddess. I only want to be beside you wherever you go next.”
I gasp softly, stunned by the earnestness in his words.
The rough pad of his thumb brushes against my cheek as he cradles me, and I close my eyes, letting myself feel safe if only for a moment.
I’ve been running for so long, even before this epic failure of a father-daughter reunion.
Running from my mom’s shitty boyfriends, running from my feelings, running from drugs and petty crime, running, running, running…
running out of options, running out of hope…
“Hey, take a breath for me,” my biker murmurs. “You’re safe with me, Athena. Please give me a chance to prove it.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Wraith,” he’s quick to supply.
“Is that supposed to help me trust you?” I lift an eyebrow in suspicion, though I’m mostly joking.
“It’s the truth. Wraith is my road name. Haven’t gone by anything else since my time in the military.”
“Wraith, the ex-military biker-slash-stalker extraordinaire,” I tease.
“My military training will all go to keeping you safe, and my connections with the club only further secure your protection. Wicked Riders sacrifice everything for each other, and you’ll be part of that family, too.”
“Wow,” I say in a hushed tone. I’m not even sure Wraith heard me.
I’m not sure what to think about being part of the “family” of bikers, but I can’t exactly turn down his protection now that my father is back in the picture.
“I…” Sighing deeply, I try to focus my thoughts.
I’m too exhausted to keep fighting. “Okay,” I finally say, giving in to whatever plan he has for us.
It does feel nice not having to make all the decisions for once.
“Really?” he asks excitedly. I nod. “Thank Christ.”
His response makes me smile. The man seems so relieved, endearing him even more to me. It almost makes me feel guilty for running away from him for so long. Almost.