Wingman [Woman] Page 33

I let my eyes move down his body. The man is huge; there’s no doubt about his strength. He looks like a linebacker on steroids. His shoulders are broad, his arms are thick and muscly, his torso is powerful and his hips narrow off in that sexy kind of way. He’s wearing all black, including the sunglasses on his head. His jacket is thick and I can see a patch that states “Prez” and another that has “1%” and then a bunch of other random ones. Interesting. He’s got on a pair of black jeans, with chains hanging from the belt loops. His boots are totally biker; they look as scary as him.

I put my hands on my hips. “Why are you standing outside my best friend’s house?”

He stares at me, narrows his eyes, and then turns and walks off. Yes, he walks right past me, as if I didn’t speak.

I notice on the back of his jacket he’s got the words Wings MC written. He’s not part of Spike or Jackson’s club, it seems.

“Hey,” I say again, my voice a little louder.

He doesn’t turn.

Oh, maybe he’s a bit deaf.

“Excuse. Me. Can. You. Understand. Me?” I yell, in my best slow voice.

He stops, turns and glares at me.

Not deaf. Good to know.

“Are you a mute?” I ask, putting my hands on my hips. “Or are you going to tell me why you’re standing outside my best friend’s house?”

He grins at me, the prick. Then he turns and walks off again.

“Yeah okay arrogant biker dude, you just walk away,” I yell after him. “No worries. I didn’t like you, anyway.”

He lifts his hand and he . . . flips me the bird.

Ohhhhh, little shit.

“Yeah, right back at ya!” I shriek and then poke my tongue out at his back.

When he disappears, I turn and rush up the front steps, suddenly worried about my friend. Did biker dude go inside? Is he a stalker?

Then it hits me—oh my God, is he the one she fucked?

That little skank. He’s smokin’ hot.

Grinning, I use my key to unlock her front door. I step inside only to stop in my tracks. She’s rushing about packing a suitcase, not even noticing me. I see then that her blinds are drawn.

“Autumn?”

She screams and spins around, pressing her hand to her heart.

Okay, that’s strange.

“What are you doing?”

Her eyes are panicked. “I, uh, I’m going on holiday.”

No, she’s not going to keep lying to me.

“Autumn, you’re clearly frightened and I just saw an extremely attractive biker out front, staring in here.”

“What?” she cries, rushing to the window and peeking out.

“You need to tell me what’s happening,” I demand. “Now.”

She turns to me, and her bottom lip trembles. Shit.

I rush over, wrapping my arms around her. She shakes violently in my arms.

“I have to go, Tia. I don’t have a choice.”

“Tell me why. You think I haven’t noticed that you’re always running? Why are you running, Autumn? Tell me.”

She takes a deep, shaky breath and whispers, “I didn’t know . . . I thought he was just a gorgeous man who gave me a good time.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Wade, or Wrath, in his club.”

“And what does he want with you?”

“I thought he just wanted me for sex, until he tried to . . .”

“What, Autumn?” I plead.

“He tried to catch me.”

Confusion fills me. “Catch you?”

She steps back, running her hands through her hair. “I can’t explain it here, but years ago I took something I shouldn’t have and gave it to the police. The man that got caught went to jail. He’s out now and I think . . . I think he’s looking for me. He knows I have information and he’s sent Wrath to get it.”

“He hired him to collect you?” I gasp.

“Yes, he’s paid him a lot of money to track me down. I have to get out of here, Tia. I can’t stay.”

“You’ve been running all this time, because of a man that was in jail?”

“Yes,” she sobs. “He won’t leave my life. I can’t escape him.”

“Oh Autumn,” I say, my voice gentle. “Let’s call the police, maybe they can help and . . .”

“Help what? I have no proof. He’s done nothing, he’s kept his hands clean. They’re not going to look into a biker that so far, has done nothing to me.”

“You shouldn’t have to run,” I protest.

“I don’t have a choice,” she yells angrily.

“So you’re going to do this forever? Run from this man? What did you do? What did you find?”

“I can’t explain it right now, I have to go. I’ll figure out a way to end this, but I can’t do it here with that biker breathing down my neck.”

“Why did he sleep with you?” I ask.

“He didn’t know who I was at the time.” She laughs bitterly.

“I don’t want you to go,” I say, putting my hand on her shoulder.

She shakes her head, swiping her tears. “I’ll finish this, I will. I have people that can help me gather what I need to bring this guy down, but I can’t do it here.”

I take her hand, gently running my thumb over it. “I can’t stop you, A, but I need to know you’re okay. That you’re not going to get hurt.”

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