Even though she had asked me to sleep with her, I knew it wasn’t a good idea. But I had taken her into my arms and then slept beside her. I hadn’t slept with a woman in years. Sure, I’d had sex with several girls since my girlfriend had broken my heart. There was never a shortage of sweet butts who wanted to ease my pain. But whenever I took those women up on their offers, they never stayed the night. To my way of thinking, sharing a bed or sleeping beside someone was almost more intimate than the act of sex itself.

I stared up at the ceiling. How in the hell had I gotten myself into this situation? I was completely in over my head. A week ago I had left to save Sarah, and somehow my whole life had changed. But as twisted as it sounds, it had changed for the better. The truth was I enjoyed spending time with Annabel. I loved her laugh, her smile, and the way she felt comfortable teasing me. I may have saved her from Mendoza, but in a way it felt like she had saved me.

No matter how much I was enjoying being with Annabel, though, I couldn’t turn off the voice of doubt in my head. Part of me wondered if I was tripping on the high of a hero complex, where being the savior of a beautiful girl gave me some kind of sick pleasure. After all, I thought, if she hadn’t been abused at Mendoza’s hands, she would have never given a guy like me a second glance.

I hated those thoughts.

Most of all, I was afraid of doing anything that would hurt Annabel. I didn’t want to be the cause of screwing up her recovery. Like I had told her at dinner last night, there was no handbook on the right or wrong way to heal. In another time and place, Annabel would have been the type of woman I pursued. Beautiful, sweet, innocent, and a little bit sassy. As crazy as it sounded, I almost wished I had rescued a less attractive girl, or a girl who had a boyfriend or husband waiting on her at home. Anything but a girl who would catch my interest.

Instead, fate could be a cruel bitch.

Of course, I had to wonder what kind of sick fucker I was to even be thinking about Annabel in a sexual way. Last night, I’d tried to put her at ease about her feelings while at the same time I struggled with my own needs. After all, I’d known the girl a week—one part of which was spent rescuing her from sexual slavery and watching her heal. I mean, for fuck’s sake, there had to be something wrong with me. Annabel had been through mental and physical hell and had every right to be confused by her feelings for me. Me, I had no excuse whatsoever.

Annabel shifted and stretched in my arms. When I looked at her again, her eyes were open and she was taking in her surroundings. “Morning,” I said softly.

She jerked out of my arms. “Um, morning.”

“Sorry if I scared you.”

Annabel shook her head. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just a little embarrassed about how I acted last night.”

“Annabel, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Nightmares and flashbacks are horrific. I know that as well as you do.”

“I hope you were able to sleep, considering I was lying all over you.”

Even in the short time I had known her, it was clear to me that she always worried too much. “I actually slept through the night. I just woke up a little before you did.”

“Guess we better get on the road, huh?”

I nodded. “If we haul it, we could make it to Georgia by tonight.”

“Really?”

“It’s about twelve hours when you don’t have a lead foot like mine. Of course, I know I owe you a quick shopping stop.”

She laughed. “Yes, you do. I promise to be quick.”

With a smirk, I replied, “A woman who shops fast? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Then I’ll be happy to prove it to you.”

Annabel was true to her word, and after a stop at Walmart, we were on the road by six thirty. We ate both breakfast and lunch in the car. I made sure she did lie down in the back for several long stretches. The rest of the time she was up front in the passenger seat beside me. As for me and my wound, I managed to keep my leg pain under control with some Advil.

We learned a lot more about each other on the drive home. It’s amazing what you can talk about when you’re trying to pass the time on a long stretch of road. Of course, I learned new things about her, but they didn’t change what I already knew. It just made me appreciate who she was even more.

When we crossed the Georgia state line, I called Bishop to let him know where we were. Since bikes made better time, he had gotten home early that morning. I wondered if he and Breakneck had even stopped to sleep much—they had probably crashed along the way at one of the Mississippi or Alabama Raiders’ clubhouses. He informed me that the guys were anxious to have me back.

I didn’t know just how anxious until we got home. As I pulled into the roadhouse parking lot, both in- and out-of-town Raiders swarmed the car. Cheers and whistles went up in the group, while others pounded their fists on the hood and trunk. Ordinarily I would have appreciated the show of support, but I knew the ruckus was the last thing Annabel needed.

Her agonized whimper drew my attention away from my brothers and over to her. She had drawn her legs up and tucked her chin to her knees. Her arms were wrapped tight around her body like she was trying to keep herself together and not lose her shit.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were going to do this.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, I watched as her body began trembling on the seat. “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. Throwing the gearshift into reverse, I started slowly backing away from the crowd. My brothers’ elation quickly turned to confusion and then anger. I could hear the shouts outside the car grow in volume.