Chapter 2 Kiera
KIERA
Hovering over their bikes, I swallowed hard as the towering men walked closer. They didn’t bother to lift the shiny, opaque visors that covered their eyes. Instead, the two of them stood in front of me and stared down at me.
Maybe this is a mistake. My throat tightened as I realized just how big the pair were. One of them was tall and broad, his muscles straining on the zipped-up, brown leather jacket.
If it was a mistake, it was too late to back down now.
Besides, I’d dealt with plenty of assholes. Plenty of men had taken advantage of my weakness, of my vulnerability. But I’d survived.
And frankly, none of them were as bad as Gabriel.
Through his mask, the skinnier but still insanely built biker nodded toward me. “What’s happening, little lady?”
My eyes rolled at the nickname, immediately annoyed by the damsel in distress treatment.
But to be fair, it was accurate. At least for that moment.
As soon as I got away from Gabriel, I was done being fucking weak. There was no more room for that push-over shit in my life, and I was making a pact with myself right now. Whatever else happened, I would not become like my mother.
“My boyfriend’s being an asshole, I want to get out of here. Just take me home.” I clenched my jaw shut tight, not wanting to answer any more questions.
The broad one tilted his head, the huge helmet making it hard to read his tone. “Where’s home?”
Opening my mouth to answer, no words came out. Home was a bit of a myth. The reality of what I was doing started to set in: there wasn’t a single place I could go that Gabriel didn’t own or have access to.
I knew it was a mistake, letting him have so much control over my life. After I sent money to my mom, there was hardly any left over for myself. Gabe had been thrilled to offer his help — I had been an idiot for thinking it was out of the goodness of his heart.
My body shuddered at the memory of his sinister smile offering to let me move in.
“I’m not sure.” I stammered. He would be out here at any second, and then my options would dwindle to zero. All of them worse than letting these two, mysterious bikers whisk me away from him.
The lean one reached behind me and grabbed a spare helmet from the blue Suzuki, its black metal frame sleek and nimble.
As he leaned in, a waft of musk washed over me.
Despite the heavy, zipped leather jacket, the smell of his cologne found its way to my nose — hints of fresh laundry and sweat mixing into a lovely melody.
But before he could hand me the helmet, Gabriel’s voice sounded from the door to the bar. “Kiera! I swear to fucking god.” Frantically, his eyes searched the crowd of bikers for my face.
As soon as his gaze locked with mine, he marched over.
The two bikers stood in front of me, a wall of leather and muscle that any rational man would have feared.
But the drinks had Gabe bold tonight. His hand darted into the gap between them, grabbing my bicep with bruising force. “You’re so fucking ridiculous.”
“I’m done, Gabriel.” My voice shook, more from rage than loss.
His scoff only made the rage burn brighter. “Done? Kiera, don’t be so childish. You’re nothing without me.”
“If you don’t take your hands off this girl, we’re going to have a problem.” The lean one growled through his mask.
Apparently Gabe was at least a little afraid of them, because he dropped his hand from my arms.
“That’s not true.” I crossed my arms, making it harder for him to grab me again. But the damage was already done. My skin stung where he’d touched, and I could already tell it would leave a bruise that would take weeks to fade.
With a laugh, Gabe leaned in. “Oh, but it is. You don’t deserve better. Any other guy is going to treat you like the trash you are. Really, you should be fucking grateful I’ve given you so many chances.”
From my sides, I felt the bikers bristle, exchanging a look under their visors. The broad one’s hands clenched into fists as he watched my boyfriend yell at me.
Gabe hissed back at me. “You’re no better than your whore mother. And if you want any sort of decent life, you’re going to go back inside and apologize to my friends for spilling their drinks.”
Before I could answer, the masked bikers gestured for me to get on their bikes. Clearly, they were not enjoying Gabriel’s spectacle.
But as I turned to move, Gabriel’s fingers shot toward my arm, digging deeper into my skin this time. He yanked me toward him, forcing me to stumble away from the bike. The bikers tensed as my ankles buckled and I crashed to the ground.
Instincts kicking in, my palms slammed down into the pavement to catch my weight. I winced as I felt a sharp pain in my hands.
Shit. Looking at the dirty sidewalk, I saw a shattered glass bottle under my palms.
As blood started to seep out of the cuts, a pair of hands gently rested on my arm. Looking up, the dark visor hid the eyes of the biker trying to help me up.
But before they could lift me to my feet, Gabriel barked at them as he pulled me closer. “Leave my girl alone, you fucking creeps.”
The broad one had enough. He grabbed Gabe’s wrist, squeezing until he yelped. Meanwhile, the lean one lifted me from the ground and guided me toward the bike.
Through his mask, the broad one growled at Gabriel. “A man who touches a woman like that doesn’t deserve hands.”
“Get your fucking hands off of me! Do you have any idea who I am?”
Just as the words came out of his mouth, the muscular biker punched my boyfriend — or ex-boyfriend — with a loud crack resounded across the cement sidewalk.
Stumbling back, Gabe gripped his own jaw as he tried to fathom what had just happened to him.
Maybe he needed a good smack. Spoiled brat of a man.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Gabe roared out, his voice squeaking on the last word. “I’m going to sue the fuck out of you.”
The lean one set me on the bike before joining his friend. “That assumes you can find us.”
Eyes wild and bloodshot, Gabriel lifted his fist in a pathetic attempt to punch back. But the lean one caught his balled hand before it could make contact with his friend’s helmet.
I wasn’t sure what Gabe thought would happen when he punched a motorcycle helmet. That it would shatter under his knuckles? If I could’ve laughed, I would’ve. But the tightening knot in my chest and the sting in my palms left no room for that.
With Gabe’s fist still in his grasp, the lean biker laughed before twisting Gabe’s arm and throwing a second punch into his nose.
“You must have a deathwish, you fucking morons.” Gabriel’s voice grew nasally as he tried to keep his bloody nose from dripping on his expensive suit.
“Should we give him some matching bruises?” The lean one turned to look at his friend.
All it took was one nod for the two of them to jump on him. A punch to the gut keeled Gabriel over and a swift kick to the nuts was enough to get him on his knees.
He cried out in pain as he clutched his balls.
Hopefully it takes away his ability to reproduce.
I should’ve been more appalled, shocked by the violence. But there was something surreal about watching him be bruised for once.
The broad one grabbed Gabe’s chin, forcing him to look up at them. Muffled by the helmet, his voice was gruff. “Why does every loser with a cheap suit and some cash to blow think he can touch a woman like that?”
With a shrug, the lean one shook out his shoulders, ready for more.
But the other squeezed Gabe’s bloody face and wound up his other fist. He brought it down hard, the leather jacket strained around his huge biceps as his punch wiped across Gabe’s sorry face.
There was a thud as Gabe’s body hit the cement.
Without checking on him, the lean one passed me a helmet. “Put this on, sweetheart.”
I couldn’t look away from Gabe’s squirming body, even as I shoved my head into the motorcycle helmet. My vision blurred under the tinted visor and my hearing muffled. It made it all the more impressive that these two bikers landed as many shots as they did.
It wasn’t until the lean one threw his leg over the bike and turned on the ignition that reality set in. My chest tightened as I watched Gabe squirming on the ground, the door to the bar swinging open as his posse of tech bros flooded onto the sidewalk.
Turning in his helmet to look at me, the biker explained what was about to happen. “Wrap your arms around my waist and hold on tight. If you need me to stop, tap me twice. Don’t be shy.”
All I could do was nod as a dozen little Gabe minions rushed to his side.
And as the crowd grew, the two motorcycles peeled down the street into the dark night. I gripped the lean biker with all my force. The roar of the engine was enough to send waves of fear through my entire body.
I’d promised my dad I’d never get on one. But I hoped that wherever he was — if he was somehow watching me — that he’d understand the exception.
Looking back over my shoulder, I could see Gabe trying to stand.
If this night wasn’t bad before, it certainly was now. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to go back to him without consequences. But I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to.
The thought was fleeting as the bike took the streets with ease. He deserved every fucking punch, every fucking hit. At least someone had been willing to stand up to that rich asshole, even if they had no idea what the consequences would be.
And then it hit me, as I clung to this complete stranger's back.
Who the fuck are these masked heroes of mine? And are they even heroes at all?