Chapter Two

At first, Cassie didn't buck or struggle on Rage's shoulder. Then she started screaming at him to put her down. She even pounded her fists against his back, but they were weak blows.

Rage shook his head, ignoring her complaints. They had to get out of there. Breaker's little princess didn't have the faintest clue how much danger she was in.

What did she think would happen if he hadn't come to her rescue? Those three Devil's Kings MC members Rage had gotten rid of was just the beginning. Their rival MC would just send more men.

Hawk, the President of the Devil's Kings MC, knew Breaker only had one weak link in his armour and that was his precious little girl.

Like a dog with a bone, Hawk would keep going after Cassie. The best way to prevent her from becoming a bargaining chip in an MC war was to bring her back home to Hanging Cove. Back to Breaker.

Huh. Rage thought about the situation more and decided that wasn't how he wanted this story to end. There was opportunity for him here. Rage patted her curvy ass and that sent her in another fit of anger. There it was. The fiery spirit he initially thought had been extinguished.

Cassie probably had gotten soft, living in the city. Still, there was no denying the spoiled brat who made his high school life hell, had grown up to become a pretty fine woman. She must be so unsatisfied with the boring men in this city. She needed some excitement, a man with a firm and loving hand like Rage.

Cassie and Rage—what a pair they'd make, and Cassie would be fun to break. He'd make her pay for all those times she and her friends humiliated him, make her see the man he'd become. The thought amused Rage as they reached his Harley.

"Are you going to behave and stay put when I set you down, or are you going to run?" he asked her.

Cassie fell silent and Rage let her stew for a little while. She knew running away from him would only cause them problems. "I don't have a choice, do I?" Cassie demanded.

Hearing the desperation in her voice, Rage finally set her down. She wiped the tears from her face with one hand, smeared some of her makeup. Rage wasn't sure if it was an act or if it was real. Cassie had always been a good actress. That was how she always got what she wanted when they were kids.

Rage reminded himself he was immune to her but some part of him did pity Cassie. She could've lorded it up back in Hanging Cove as Breaker's princess. Breaker would give her anything she wanted. Instead, she left Hanging Cove the moment she turned eighteen and tried to make a life for herself in the city. There was something admirable about that. Too bad some roads led back to home and home was where Rage intended to take her.

"If you're done crying, get on," Rage said, mounting his bike.

"You're heartless," she whispered.

"I don't give a damn what you think about me but the longer we dawdle here, the more danger we're putting ourselves in," Rage said.

"You killed those men like they were nothing," Cassie said. There was silent accusation in her eyes.

"Believe me, sweetheart, if I hadn't gotten rid of them, who knows what they'd be doing to that sweet little body of yours right now," Rage drawled. "They certainly wouldn't leave you intact for Hawk."

He didn't mince words. Cassie could take it. She'd grown up alongside men like her father, after all. None of Rage's MC brothers were saints.

Cassie stared at him, biting her lower lip. She looked so damn vulnerable, standing there on the sidewalk, barefoot, with her dress ripped in certain places, and her makeup smeared. Pity wormed its way inside him. Rage might be a lot of things but he wasn't a complete jerk.

Rage sighed, then got off his bike, removed his boots, and kicked them toward her.

"They're probably too big for you but they'll protect your feet," Rage said.

Cassie hesitated a few seconds longer, then placed her dainty little feet inside his scruffy and well-used work boots. She shivered and Rage growled, then took off his jacket and tossed it at her.

Cassie caught it, then put it on. Next came her helmet. Once she put it on, she finally got behind him. The hem of her little dress must be riding up her thigh, Rage thought with interest. He wondered what kind of underwear she wore and what color. Cassie used to like pink, he remembered. Did she change her favorite color?

He had to get his mind out of the gutter. For now, his main goal was getting them out of this city in one piece. Rage had plenty of time to think about Cassie and what he wanted to do to her once they were in safe waters. Dang it, but Rage's feelings for this woman were complicated. One moment he wanted to hurt her, the next, he wanted to protect her. He'd get this mess in his head sorted out later.

The moment Cassie locked her arms around his waist, Rage started the engine. He was pretty certain this wasn't the first time Cassie got on a motorcycle but she let out a little whoop as he zoomed past unfamiliar streets.

The sound made his pants feel a little tighter. Rage became distinctively aware of the press of her warm breath against his thin shirt. He was freezing but decided that didn't matter.

Rage got what he came for—his prize. Next, he had to make sure he kept his prize.

****

When none of Hawk's men gave them chase, Rage could finally let his guard down. As they roared down the open road on his Harley, the sun bore down on their heads while the cool wind whipped through their hair. It was clear blue skies for the rest of the afternoon, if the weather continued behaving this way.

Cassie had stopped complaining since they left the city. Damn it, but her laughter was beginning to sound infectious. It was going to be a good day, despite the shit show the night before. Rage hadn't had one of those in what felt like forever. Hell, Cassie sounded like she was having the time of her life. It took Rage back to his younger self. Made him remember why he joined the MC in the first place. The freedom of the open road had called to him back then.

The past few years had been hell for Rage and the MC, with competition constantly cropping up left and right.

According to Breaker, in the good old days, the Death Seekers MC were the only reputable weapons dealers in the area. Those good old days were long gone. Most days, it was a constant struggle for survival. Then again, blood and violence were what Rage signed up for. He couldn't complain.

Thunder rumbled on the horizon. Crap. Rage could see the darkening clouds. Then without warning, the sky opened up. Rain came down in sheets, drenching them both.

Cassie clutched him tighter. Rage would have appreciated the gesture another day but for now, they had to get off the road. He slowed down, momentarily turned to her, and tried to shout over the sound of the rain.

"We need to find shelter," he said. Rage didn't wait for a reply, but returned his attention to the road.

"Over there! A motel, I think," she yelled back.

He scanned the horizon and saw what she was referring to. A sad grey building in the distance, its neon sign flickering through the rain. Rage pulled up to the motel entrance. Cassie got off first, then Rage found a covered spot next to a large oak tree. He didn't have any trouble. The parking lot was empty, save for a few rusted-out cars scattered around.

By the time Cassie and he entered the lobby, they were soaked to the bone. Water dropped off their clothes and into the frayed carpeting. The receptionist, a balding man in his fifties wearing a stained shirt, didn't even look up from his phone. The smell of dampness and mildew soon hit Rage's nose. He didn't miss Cassie wrinkling her nose but it wasn't like they had much of a choice.

After getting their key, they proceeded to their room on the second floor. Since the elevator wasn't working, they took the stairs. Cassie stared at the hallway for a few moments. She wasn't being prissy, or at the very least, he gave her brownie points for not voicing a complaint.

The walls were a sickly shade of yellow, the carpet was threadbare, and the furniture was old and outdated. The fluorescent lights flickered, casting an unflattering glow on everything in the room.

As they walked down the hallway to their room, they could hear a dripping faucet echoing through the empty halls.

The room itself didn't have much—only a narrow bed, a dresser, and an old TV that Rage bet wasn't even working. No bathroom. He guessed they had to use the shared bathroom in the hallway. Rage started peeling off his wet clothes and Cassie looked a little taken back.

"Strip or you'll catch a cold," he told her.

Rage didn't miss the momentary flare of heat in her eyes as she eyed him up and down. There was definitely interest there.

"You can change here or outside, seeing as there's no bathroom," he said.

"Do you have to be such an asshole all the time?" Cassie grumbled. Then she took off his jacket, hesitated for a few moments, then started peeling off her uncomfortable-looking dress.

Rage was down to his boxers by then, but he appreciated the sight of her soft skin, still drenched with droplets of water and her curves. The black lace of her bra barely covered her breasts. Cassie sure grew up fine, he thought.

She blushed when she caught him looking. "Turn around," she hissed.

"You didn't seem to have a problem gawking at me," Rage pointed out. Two could play at this game.

"I wasn't gawking at you," Cassie sputtered. He turned, because he could be a gentleman if he wanted.

"You sure bulked up," Cassie whispered under her breath. Then after a few seconds, she said, "You can look now."

Rage saw Cassie on the bed. She had wrapped herself in the comforter, shivering. On another day, she probably wouldn't touch the sheets or any part of that bed. Now, it didn't matter.

"Scoot over. I also need to get warm," he said.

Cassie threw him a glare but nonetheless complied. Maybe she didn't want him to catch a cold either. As the rain continued to drum on the roof, they sat together on the small bed. It hardly had any room for him, so their shoulders were touching.

"Uncomfortable?" he asked when she shifted for the second time.

Cassie was trying to find a position that would put some distance between them but to no avail. Maybe if she wasn't so afraid of him, she would've kicked him out of the bed.

Too bad she had to make do. Falling sick was a no-no for him. Rage needed to get back to the MC clubhouse in one piece. Breaker and the club needed him in top shape. Hell, as the club vice-president, he could've ordered one of the club's senior members to pick Cassie up. Everyone had been surprised, even Breaker, when he offered to do the job himself.

Cassie was only an errand. A means to an end. She didn't matter, or at least that was what Rage constantly told himself, but the more time they spent together, he began to wonder if she could be something more.