Rose is quiet as we use the old pickup to get back to her little car at Scenic Park. 

She looks a little better. She took a drive-through shower at the hospital, and her color's back to normal. 

I hate how relieved I am. 

“I said some shit back there…” I shake my head. This relationship shit blows. 

Is this relationship shit?

“Yeah,” Rose replies. We both start talking, and she holds up her hand. “I'm not saying I don't like you.”

I whip my head in her direction. “Like me? Fuck!” I pound the steering wheel, and she flinches. “I think we've goddamned established the like part, Rose.”

Her face dips, and I swear, this girl makes me feel like a dick without even trying. Unless I am one.

That bit of self-realization bites. 

I ease into a parking slot, jamming the gearshift to park, and slide to face her. 

She looks so small and vulnerable sitting there.

“I can't let you leave this truck without knowing what cocksucker tried to choke you.”

Her eyes tighten, and her lips flatten. “Why? So you can go all gangsta on him and kill him?”

What the fuck? I lean forward and growl the truth. “Maybe.” Images of killing knots shuffle through my mind like a deck of cards.

She leans back against the door. “I don't want any more killing, Noose.”

“Killing needs to be done sometimes. All the beautiful people want to believe that they're safe, but they're not. Nobody's safe, Rose.”

A tear rolls out of her eye, she brushes it away, and another takes its place. 

My status in dickdom is now secure. “Fuck,” I mutter, tapping my fingers along the wheel.

“She was only nineteen,” Rose says, stuttering through her tears, and I sharpen right up. Her angry eyes glare up at mine. But she's talking, and I keep my fat mouth shut for once.

“She met some biker guy.” Her eyes accuse me. I finish the sentence for her, like you.

I let that go too, but patience isn't my best trait. I can feel it thinning like skin over a drum. 

“He was dangerous. Had money. Showered Anna with the forbidden fruit type of stuff. She was in love.”

I can tell by her tone of voice she thinks Anna didn't know about love yet.

“Then he started getting mean. Violent.” 

This is where she really piques my interest. 

“One day, Anna never came home, and she wouldn't have left Charlie for anything. Even though by this time, she was smoking out with weed, lying to our parents―anything to be with Drake.”

She says his name like a curse word. 

Rose bites her bottom lip, and an image of her mouth on my dick floats through my mind. I kill it ruthlessly. What kind of dick lets thoughts of sex run through his mind when a chick's in shambles?

Uh-huh. I get back on point. “You think Drake killed Anna?” I know he did. I know more about him now than I want to. 

Her eyes land on mine, dark and fathomless. Eyes like Rose's could bring a man to his knees.

Maybe they have.

“I know he did.”

I don't let her off the hook. “Did Drake do this?” I sweep my palm in the direction of the bruise necklace around her throat. 

She tries to look away.

I move across the seat, cradling her face between my hands, forcing her to look in my eyes. “Tell me,” I command.

Rose jerks her head in a nod, her chest heaving as she begins to sob. 

I pull her against me. Her fright beats like a rabbit in a cage against me.

That fucker Diablo will not have her.

No one will.

But me. 

* * *

Rose

I can't believe I told him. 

Noose turns off the engine of the truck and slides out. He strides toward the door and opens my side. 

He holds out his hand, and I slip mine inside. 

The shower I took at the hospital didn't cut it, I need a hot bath. I need my own house―and some space. 

Charlie.

Noose hauls me into his arms, and I slide down the front of him, burying my nose in him as I go.

I could drown in his scent. I tip my head back, staring into his light eyes. “The police let you go.”

He smirks. “I'm here, aren't I?”

I laugh. “Yeah.” I shake my head. “I'm not so smart right now, Noose. My nephew's at my parents’, and the hearing is Tuesday. I'm scared and tired.”

“Hey…” He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses each knuckle. “You've got protection now.”

I pull my hand away. “I like you.” 

I back up.

“No, you don't,” Noose says, stalking toward me. He stops. “You think after all the shit that's come down, I'd hurt you?”

I don't. There's no way that a man who could worship my body the way he did could hurt me. Physically.

I shake my head.

“Well, thank fuck for that.” He rakes fingers through his hair. “Then what's the problem?”

I open my mouth to tell him that I don't want biker protection. A biker killed Anna and got away with it. 

Then he's in front of me, and I can't speak because of his nearness. I'm rumpled, tired, and full of the sex we had. 

And I want more. 

I hate myself for it. I hate that I'm like Anna. Because she's gone now. She left Charlie and me. 

We needed her, and she left.

Then Noose is kissing me as if he'll die if I don't kiss him back.

So I do.

I wrap my arms around his strong neck, and his hands go to my ass, easily lifting me in his arms. He turns with me and presses me against the side of the pickup. 

His erection divides me, splitting my sex like a ripe fruit. 

“I never brushed my teeth,” he whispers between kisses. “I want the taste of you on my tongue, between my teeth.”

My pussy soaks my yoga pants, and I groan. 

Noose says everything he's thinking. 

I love it. 

I hate it. 

I kiss him back harder, wanting what he offers. Not the protection but that part of him that he gives me.

Unguarded. Organic. Pure.

Hard.

Hot. 

Noose wins out, dry humping me against the side of a pickup truck in Scenic Hill. Then a noise brings us out of our lust-filled states.

“I'll take it from here,” a voice says.

I know that voice. 

Metal sparkles in the final light of day. A wrench hits Noose. 

His eyes go wide, and his hands convulsively tighten on me. 

He staggers back, dragging me with him. A mix of lust and horror rip across his features.

I scream.

But at the hour between four and five in the afternoon, no one's in the park to hear us. 

Noose falls backward, hitting the ground hard. He's dazed but attempting to stand. Blood runs in a thick line from his head.

Drake moves toward Noose, and I don't think. 

I land on his back.

“Later, baby,” he says in a leering voice.

I bite his neck like a vampire on crack.

He howls, throwing me off. 

But it gets him away from Noose, who's crawling toward the truck. 

I blast off, running for all I'm worth. Yay for glucose drips.

The wind plays with my hair. 

Then a hand grips it, and I fly backward, spinning.

A fist rises like a small asteroid coming toward me.

It lands. 

Fireworks shatter my vision.

Then blackness is the solace to my dilemma, making the tough decisions for me.
***
Noose

I groan, fingertips biting into a sharp surface.

Road.

I'd know the feel of that anywhere.

My eyes crank open. Vision sucks, warped and blurry. 

I roll over from my hands and knees and sit hard on my ass.

Fuck. Me.

I shake my head. “Shit,” I mutter. Not good. 

After doing the fucking dumb, I keep my head still and blink rapidly, and finally, my surroundings come into focus. 

Twilight has kissed the day goodbye, and streetlights have begun flickering to life like startled fireflies in the trenching gloom.

The interior dome light of the truck is on but dimly lit. Fucking door's been open for too damn long is why. The truck's battery sucks.

Rose!

Gooseflesh rises like insect hills on my flesh, hammering my adrenaline into overdrive.

I lurch to a standing position and sort of heave myself at the bed of the truck. My fingers latch on to the truck bed's rail, and my eyes shoot around. 

People walk by; a few give me the odd glance as I hang on to keep from falling on my ass again. 

My fingers shake as I cautiously feel for the wound on my head. Right there. I wince. Nice.

My head throbs, and my stomach rolls in a slick wave of heat.

Rose.

That fucker Diablo has her. 

My hands flatten against the outside of my pants as I pat myself down, looking for my cell. 

Nothing.

Turning, I scan the parking lot through my swimming vision, shutting the car door as I do. A clear rectangle winks back at me in the unnatural circle of light cast by the streetlight. 

I walk in an unsteady gait to the phone and sink to my knees, stifling a moan as my vision blurs in streamers of color. I hit the button at the lowest point of the cell with my thumb, and my home page rises.

I thumb swipe contacts.

Snare's name is second from the top. I press the receiver symbol, and when it begins to ring, I snatch it off the ground and hold it against my ear. 

My knees hit the pavement, and I suck in a raw inhale. 

“Yo.”

“Snare.”

“What is this? Why you callinʼ man? Weird as fuck. Thought you'd be straightening out old Rosie, getting some clam sandwich…”

A wave of dizziness assaults me. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Gee-zus, calm the righteous fuck down.”

Yeah. “Diablo's got Rose. Clubbed me in the head with―” I can't remember dick and gloss over the details. “With whatever, and my brains are scrambled. Get your ass down here and help me.”

I hear a feminine voice in the background then a lot of lip work happening. 

“Nah,” Snare pauses. Suck, lick―groan. “No, baby, you're good, but a brother's in trouble.”

Jesus―interrupting a blow job. “Snare!”

“Yeah! Fuck you, ass, I'll be right there. Where are ya?”

“Scenic Hill Park.”

“Truck okay?”

I hear him moving through the club. AC/DC is screaming about dynamite as he walks by a speaker. Girls laugh and glasses clink with ice entombed by liquor. 

I jerk to a stand and shuffle to the truck, using my hand as balance. I walk my ass around the truck's hood, tear open the door, and turn the key. 

A loud click is the only reply. I hit the hood with my fist. Hurts. My vision triples with the abrupt motion.

Goddammit. 

“No. Fucking dead.”

A motorcycle revs. “I'm on my way.”

“Thanks.”

My phone goes dark with a thumb swipe. I slide my cell into the back pocket of my jeans and look around more carefully. A tan-colored hairband catches my eye, sitting in a lonely circle a few feet from where my cell was. 

I cautiously walk toward it, heart hammering and bile rising.

Bending down, I scoop it up.

Rich, honey-colored strands of hair cling to the fabric.

* * *

Snare rolls in, and the kickstand is slinging out before he stops. He kills the engine and settles the cruiser.

His eyes go everywhere but me for a solid minute, taking in the lay of the land. Finally, that glacial gaze finds my slouched form. 

“You look like hell.”

Figured.

Not that another hole in my head matters. It's that I can’t perform―or get Rose back before that sadistic fucker touches her.

I close my eyes. Maybe he already has. 

“Probably need to see a doctor for that love tap.”

I peer at him through slitted eyelids. “Fuck that.”

Snare snorts a laugh. “That's about right, you stubborn asshole.” He smirks. “Headache, nausea, seeing stars?” 

All of the above. “Can it. What rock do the Chaos Riders hide under?”

Snare palms his chin. “Viper would know. He's the one who keeps a thumb in all the MC pies. I just make sure we're protected.”

I lift my knuckles, and he barely taps them. “Thanks, brother.”

“You knew it might come to this, Noose. This fucker wants her, wants that kid worse. Figures the only way to get the kid is to intimidate Rose.” Snare's eyes hold me prisoner. “He won't kill her.”

We look at each other. Both of us know how much can be done short of killing someone. 

So much. 

I notice Snare didn't say he wouldn't hurt Rose. Oh yeah. He'll fucking hurt her all right. Any guy willing to kill the mother of his own kid would do any-fucking-thing. 

I can't stand Rose being in his hands and out of my protection. 

Snare studies me. “I'll call Viper.”

The Prez can point us in the right direction.

But the map better come quick.