Broken by the Biker Read online

  She was right about Declan. The jackass wouldn’t stop. He was like a rabid dog; he needed to be put down the same way. The rest of the guys who’d been working with him—Mason was fairly sure they’d just vanish into the night once Declan was gone, leaving behind the club that had been his family these past few years. But Declan. Declan had to be stopped.

  It’d have to be quick. It’d have to be somewhere where the body wouldn’t be found. After all, it would just be a missing persons case until they had a body, and a guy like Declan—no one would be looking too hard for him. Hell, they might give him a medal for getting rid of the asshole.

  But before he could do anything, Caroline had to be safe. Jack had promised to watch out for her, and as much as it went against the grain of everything he’d learned since he came back from deployment, he had to trust someone. He couldn’t go after Declan again without knowing that Caroline would be okay. When he’d gone to the house where he’d hoped she’d meet him, and she wasn’t there, his heart had dropped into his stomach; when he’d gone back to the house, and seen the destruction left in the wake of her rapid departure, he’d panicked. He couldn’t go through that again.

  Sooner or later, he was going to have to admit to this woman that he was falling in love with her. His stomach twisted at the thought of it. He was fairly sure that facing down Declan would be easier.

  CAROLINE WOKE UP AS the car slowed down. She rubbed her eyes and wiped the drool off her chin, blinking around blearily as she waited for reality to catch up with her. Yes, they were in Jack’s neighborhood, on the other side of town from her. She stretched as best as she could in the car, and then glanced over at Mason again. His grip on the wheel was still white-knuckled; if possible, it was even tighter.

  “We're here,” she said, and he nodded once, too fast. “You okay?”

  His laugh was quick and brutal. “If it were just me and the dog, Caro, we’d be driving west as fast as this little import would go. I’d put together a new bike in Seattle and we’d start over. But it’s not just us. I wish to hell it was, but it’s not.”

  “Of course it’s not,” she said, and she read surprise in his face as she laid her hand on his thigh. After a moment, he covered her hand with his, squeezing tight. “They’re your family. You need to protect them. I get it.”

  The surprise was even thicker on his face now. “I didn’t think—”

  “That a suit like me would ever get it?”

  He snorted a laugh. “Yeah, basically.”

  She shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t think I would, either. But...yeah.” She squeezed his hand again. “I’m still angry you’re leaving me at Jack and Missy’s.”

  “You can tell me all about it later. When we’ve survived this whole mess.”

  Caroline laughed out loud. “Just make sure there will be a ‘later’ when I can tell you about it, all right?”

  “Agreed.”

  They pulled into the driveway of Jack and Missy’s two-story Colonial. She’d been there a few times, for office parties and such, but she’d never really managed to socialize outside of that. Obviously with Jack, in the office, but never with both of them, especially not together. It felt odd, that this was her refuge, but where else was she really ever going to go?

  Mason pulled the car into the waiting garage, then turned off the engine. After a moment, he touched Caroline’s hand again. “There’s something I need you to know—”

  The door to the house opened, and Jack was standing on the top step. Mason pulled his hand back so fast that Caroline almost thought she might have given him a burn. “Did you find her? Was she okay?”

  Caroline stepped out of the car, and Jack nearly ran around to her side to hug her.

  “I need to go,” Mason said, walking back over to his bike, which had been stashed against the front wall of the garage. “I need to talk to some people, get some information. We need to deal with this, as quickly as possible. Before anyone else gets hurt.”

  He reached a hand out to Jack, and there was no hesitation before Jack shook it firmly. “I got her up here. You guys make sure she doesn’t run off and do something stupid, okay?”

  “Hello,” Caroline said. “Standing right here.”

  Mason reached forward, curled his arm around her waist, and pulled her into his chest with one quick motion. “Be here when I come back.”

  “Okay,” she said, her heart rabbiting in her chest. She expected his kiss to be hard, forceful, and passionate. Instead, it was feather light and sweet, a delicate butterfly brush of his lips over hers.

  “See you soon,” he whispered, and then he was walking to his motorcycle and gone. She had the strangest, nearly overwhelming urge to cry.

  “Come inside,” Missy said. “Let’s get some dinner.”

  She stayed still until she couldn’t hear the engine of his bike any more, and then she followed Missy and Jack inside.

  Chapter 7

  They’d made grilled chicken, roasted corn on the cob, and potato salad—the quintessential New England summer meal. Jack reached into the fridge for another hard cider, and Caroline accepted it with a nod, joining them at the picnic table in the backyard and trying to smile.

  It felt incredibly fake to be there, and she'd felt a tug under her belly button—an almost magnetic pull—towards the direction that Mason had taken. Letting him face this down alone seemed incredibly wrong. She’d set him on this path; abandoning him to face the dragon alone seemed as much a problem as being the princess waiting in the tower. Gross, either way.

  She didn’t know how much Jack had told Missy. From what she knew of their marriage, and what she knew about Jack, he’d probably told her the basic outline, but downplayed the danger. Which was just another reason to feel guilty.

  “So, Caroline,” Missy said, a wide and happy smile on her face. “I hear that you’re involved in some incredibly devious plot with that gorgeous biker of yours?”

  Caroline felt heat wash through her cheeks, and she tried not to spontaneously combust. She ended up sputtering her cider onto the table as she tried to inhale and swallow at the same time, and wiped her chin. Why was she so giggly? She’d never been giggly about a guy in her life. Stalwart and stable Caroline. “Yes,” she made herself say.

  “Is the sex wonderful? He looks like the type of guy who could toss a girl onto a bed and then follow her down growling.”

  Nope, there was no getting around it, she was simply going to explode flaming confetti. And yet, she couldn’t resist the chance to brag a little. “It’s. Um, it’s pretty good.”

  Missy laughed, her own cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “I’m sure it is.” She reached over and put her hand over Jack’s; Jack coughed and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you can manage to share a few tricks? Just some gossip between girls.”

  Before Caroline entirely choked on her cider, Missy laughed and shook her head.

  “I’m just teasing, of course. You’re a guest in our home, Caroline. I don’t want you to worry about anything, just be safe here with us. Jack always talks about you so kindly, and I know you’ve helped him out at work a hundred times. I’m just glad we can be here for you.”

  “That’s really kind, Missy. Thank you.”

  After dinner, Jack conscripted Missy to help make brownies, and Caroline took a shower. Her brain was spinning a mile a minute. The sex with Mason earlier had been wonderful, but right now, her skin was crawling with the urge to be touched, the need to touch someone and garner reassurance.

  She’d never felt this way before, and she both liked it, and really didn’t. It was easier, being on her own, just her and Gloria. So much easier. Relying on people got people hurt. Falling for people, and then not having then in your life hurt. Everything fucking hurt.

  She scrubbed her skin like she could scrub the feelings out from under her fingernails, but nothing changed.

  There was a tap on the bathroom door. Caroline wiped off her cheeks—not that anyone would be able to see her thr
ough the frosted glass—and called out. “Yeah, come in.”

  “Just me,” Missy called out, and Caroline could see her through the glass, as distorted as Caroline’s frame probably appeared to her. She knew Missy was lean and strong, a marathon runner. Caroline wasn’t dumpy, but she’d always had a figure that had been called words like “solid,” and “stable.” It was odd, having another woman in the room with her while she was naked, even if she knew Missy wouldn’t really be able to see her.

  “I brought you some clothes to change into,” Missy said. “Lounge pants, a tank top. Should fit fine.” Caroline saw her set the clothing down on the sink.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “I freaked you out, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have said anything. I just didn’t want you to be worried that I was going to jump out at you like a psycho in a movie.”

  “I wasn’t,” she said. “And you didn’t.” But her voice was shaking, and her heart was racing, and hey, maybe this was what panic felt like after all.

  “Do you want to talk about it? About what happened to you?”

  Caroline’s instinct was to say no, she didn’t want to talk about it, and she didn’t want to think about it ever again, but then when she opened her mouth to say no, “God, yes,” came out instead.

  She thought Missy would roll her eyes, annoyed at this woman who was not just demanding to stay in their home, but also to her time and emotional energy. But if that happened, Missy didn’t show it in her posture or her voice. In fact, she sat down on the vanity. “Go ahead,” she said. “Tell me anything you need to tell me.” When Caroline hesitated, Missy continued. “Look, I’m no therapist. But I did trauma and volunteer work in college. I’ve heard a lot. I can hear a lot without freaking out on you, and I’ll never breathe a word to anyone. It’s okay to unload.”

  It felt like a wall inside her was breaking, and all the fear she’d felt when Declan had her tied to that chair rushed into her in a wave. She’d had to push so much to the side in order to get free, get out, get gone with Gloria, but putting off the fear seemed to have made it bigger. Stronger, somehow. Her heart slammed like it was going to beat right out of her chest, and she felt her throat closing around a scream.

  “Steady,” she heard Missy’s voice through the panic, using the exact same calm tone she’d been using before. “Steady. You’re in a safe place. It’s an emotion. It’ll pass. It’ll peak, and it’ll pass. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

  Caroline tried. The first one was ugly and sharp, more of a gasp than a breath, but once it had opened her throat, her body relaxed a little bit more, and she was able to pull in a couple of short breaths, and then a longer one. It didn’t get rid of the fear, but it did make it easier to breathe through. Pulled it back down to a level that was manageable. I’m safe, she told herself. He’s not here. There’s nothing here that can hurt me.

  “Good,” Missy said. “Really good. Can you feel the water? Tell me how the temperature is.”

  “It’s...warm? Warmish. Just right, I didn’t want a hot shower.”

  “Good. Excellent. What about the bathroom tile. Do you like it? Do you think it’s more of a teal or more of a sea glass color?”

  Caroline hadn’t even noticed the tile before. She made herself look at it, focusing and still breathing. “Um. I’d call it periwinkle, actually?”

  “Great,” Missy said. “I’ve always wondered. I’m absolute crap at colors. How’re you doing in there?”

  “Better,” Caroline said after a long moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t know—“

  “Nah, none of that. You went through a traumatic event, and panic is a thing that happens. But the more you can experience and then defuse the fear, the less likely it is to overwhelm you. I know in the ERs now, they give people a blood pressure medicine after trauma like rape or assault, there’s research that it makes them less likely to develop PTSD. But I don’t have access to that, so we’re going to do this the old fashioned way.”

  “What’s that?”

  She thought she could see Missy shrug through the glass. “Tell me what you want to, need to, feel like you’d like to get out. But keep your body calm while you do it. Deep, shallow breaths. Take pauses if you need to. Stay focused on physical sensations, like the water on your body, and what you can feel with your senses.”

  Caroline pressed her hands against the glass, and let bits and pieces of the story pour out of her. It felt good to let it go, felt like the pain was washing down the shower drain. Not all of it, of course. There was a piece of that fear that she wasn’t sure would ever leave her. But doing what Missy said, focusing and relaxing, seemed to be helping. She felt exhausted, drained, but she thought she might be able to sleep.

  “Good idea,” Missy said, which was the first time Caroline remembered that she was speaking out loud. “I’ve got the guest bed made up, and I’ll step out so you can change. It’s straight down the hall to your left. Just shout if you need anything.”

  “Okay,” Caroline said. Once Missy had stepped out of the room, she shut off the water, toweled off, and slipped into the clothes Missy had left for her.

  Chapter 8

  Once she curled up in bed, however, Caroline found that sleep was eluding her. She was exhausted physically, but her brain was still spinning a million miles an hour. She found herself wishing that she and Mason had found a chance to actually sleep together, not just have sex. He was the sort of man who would have cuddled her into his chest and held her tight to chase the demons away. But then, maybe it was better that she take care of herself for one night. She had never really liked being rescued. Not as a permanent state of being, anyway. But maybe just once. Maybe just for a little while. It could be nice.

  She pulled the covers tight around her shoulders and snuggled backwards. It was almost like having a tight arm around her shoulders, holding her close. Mason was big, burly, solid. The covers weren’t the same, but they were better than nothing. And she could close her eyes and think hard about him being there, about the warm weight of him.

  The desire for contact hadn’t faded at all after her shower. Talking with Missy had pushed it away for a while, but now, with the dark falling all around her, she wanted the comfort of physical sensations to push away the scary thoughts and help her fall into sleep. Thinking of Mason made her think of him curled around her, her hips tucked against his. How would he feel when he was sleeping? Would his cock get hard pressed against her ass? Would she wake up feeling him shifting gently against her, his hands wandering to her breasts, her pussy, roaming over her belly?

  Her own hand slipped inside of her borrowed pajama pants as she thought of it. She thought he’d kiss her neck first, press his lips softly against the spot just behind her ear, and whisper something sweet to make sure she was awake. She’d press back against him, rubbing her ass over his erection, feeling him swell a little more, from morning wood into the massive man she’d enjoyed that morning, the previous day. Glorious, glorious sex. Her fingers stroked her slit, finding the wetness pooling around her opening, and spreading it up to her clit. Her back arched at the touch, imagining his fingers there, swirling through her juices almost luxuriously. Like they had all the time in the world.

  She let herself think of bucking up into his hand as she stroked her pussy with a little more firmness, a little more intent. A wanton hiss escaped her lips, and she could almost hear Mason in her ear. “That’s my good girl. Look how gorgeous you are. Fucking my hand like that. Do you want it, baby? Do you want to come for me like a good girl?”

  She could feel the heat of his hand coming down on her ass, the way it had felt to arch and buck under his hand, feeling an intense want that boiled through her, made her feel so intense and eager and wanting. Her fingers on her clit moved faster as that image flooded her mind, how he’d tossed her over his lap so effortlessly, how she’d let him, and how very good it had felt.

  She rolled onto her back and spread her thighs so that she could better reach her cunt. Both han
ds now, one stroking her clit hard and fast, the other slipping one finger, two, fuck, three into her sopping wet cunt. She curled her fingers, seeking that rough spot inside that made her choke back a scream. She’d never had an easy time orgasming on her own, but this time, thinking of him, of the way he’d filled her so completely, it seemed almost inevitable. The pleasure washed over her like an oncoming storm, filling her and emptying her out at the same time. Her cunt pulsed in eager, hungry waves, milking his fingers like it would have milked his cock if he’d been there.

  After that, she collapsed into a tired heap, resting fully, without any dreams.

  Chapter 9

  Somewhere close by, her phone was ringing. She dragged herself up out of sleep like a woman clawing her way to the surface of deep, dark water. She’d set it on the night table when she’d laid down, or someone had brought it in and set it up with a charger; she didn’t honestly know in that moment. She managed to grab it instead of knocking it down to the floor, but it was a surprise that she pulled it off. She swiped to answer the call and pressed the phone against her ear. “Hi,” she managed to say. “Hi. Hello. What.” She winced. “What” was definitely not an acceptable phone answering protocol, but then, no one should be calling this late at night.

  “Hey,” she heard, and it took her a moment to recognize the gruff voice. “I’m sorry to wake you. I didn’t think you’d be asleep yet.”

  “Mason,” she said. She sat up in the bed, rubbing her palm over her eyes to try and wake herself up a little, and was slightly startled by the smell of pussy on her fingers. Her body still felt loose and sexual and good. She wanted him beside her, but waking up to his voice was surprisingly good as well. “What’s going on?”