Some broad comes in all broken, I feel bad, and get involved. If it was another MC, I never would’ve given her a second thought. That would be their club business. But no, this Amy bitch comes along and I fall for her victim game. The Hellions are now in danger, a long term business deal long gone, and a shit load of people on lock down because I had a moment of kindness for a stranger. This is why good people don’t get involved. They get burned.

My frustration is at its boiling point. Packing is relatively easy when you know you will be wearing jeans and a t-shirt every day. Heels aren’t made for a bike ride; therefore, they will remain in my closet. I did squeeze in one little black dress and one pair of flats in the event we get to go out. It’s springtime so I only need to pack basics. Fitting toiletries and clothes for an unknown amount of time into a backpack is not an easy task. Given the bike has no sissy bar, I have to fit what I need in a back pack to stay on me and in the two small saddlebags the bike has.

Stepping outside, I look over at Sass, who is already settled behind Rex. Tripp is on his bike, his tattered jeans, black boots, t-shirt, and Hellions cut all add to the sex appeal that is undeniably him. His hands resting on the gas tank on top of his half shell helmet, his long hair is knotted low on the back of his neck, and a black bandana covers his head. Following his gaze, I see him focused on the ocean view that can be seen through the breezeway of our condo. From our balcony, the view is breathtaking. His face is tight showing he’s deep in thought; about what, I don’t know. While watching him, something deep inside of me yearns to know more about this man.

The smell of salt in the air, the crashing of the waves in the distance, and the sounds of seagulls surround me. The tranquility of the beach, the calm, the peace, and the serenity one can find here shows why so many decide to vacation, retire, or choose to live here. It’s the great escape.

Turning my head as I come out of my musings, I see her standing in front of me. Her stare pulls at something deep inside that I’ve never felt before. Running my hand across my chest absently, our eyes lock. Her gaze does nothing to tame the unknown yearning building inside of me.

She’s a job. She’s a Hellion. She’s off limits. I remind myself over and over again as she walks over to me. When she reaches the bike, she pulls her backpack over her arms, settling it into place on her shoulders. She’s braiding her hair to keep it from tangling in the wind.