The Cold Ride
1678 Words
Sloane;
The roar of the motorcycle engine was the only sound in the dark night. It was loud and heavy, vibrating through the bottom of my feet. I stood in the rain, clutching my torn shirt together. I looked at the man on the bike. Killian Thorne looked like a shadow made of iron.
"Get on," he said again. His voice was deeper than the engine.
I didn't move. My brain told me to run. This man was dangerous. He was an Alpha. He was the brother of the woman who just helped ruin my life. But I had nowhere to go. I had no money. I had no house. And I was freezing.
"I have my bag," I said. I pointed to the heavy tool bag on the ground.
Killian didn't speak. He reached down with one large, tattooed arm. He grabbed the heavy bag like it weighed nothing. He hooked it onto the side of the bike. Then he reached out his hand to me. His palm was broad and calloused.
I took it. His skin was very hot, even in the cold rain. He pulled me onto the back of the bike.
"Hold on tight," he growled.
I wrapped my arms around his waist. His leather jacket was cold and wet, but his body underneath was like a furnace. I pressed my face against his back. I could smell the leather, the rain, and a dark, spicy scent that belonged only to him.
He kicked the bike into gear. We took off so fast that my breath left my body.
The city of Onyx Harbor blurred around us. We flew past the bright neon lights of the rich district. We headed toward the old shipyards, where the buildings were tall and broken. The wind was biting. It pulled at my hair and my torn clothes. I squeezed Killian tighter, hiding my face from the cold.
The motorcycle felt like a living thing. Every time we turned, Killian’s body moved, and I had to move with him. It felt strange. It felt like we were one machine.
Finally, the bike slowed down. We were in a dark part of the city full of warehouses. We stopped in front of a massive building with a heavy steel door. There was a sign on the door with a wolf’s head made of iron.
The Iron Wraiths Clubhouse.
Killian turned off the engine. The silence was sudden and heavy. He got off the bike and helped me down. I was shaking so hard that my legs almost gave out.
"Follow me," he said.
He led me inside. The building was huge. There were motorcycles lined up against the walls. The air smelled like oil, whiskey, and woodsmoke. It was warm inside, and the heat made my skin sting.
Killian didn't take me to the main room where the other bikers were. He led me up a set of metal stairs to a private office. He closed the door and locked it.
I stood in the middle of the room, feeling small and messy. Killian walked over to a desk. He started to take off his leather jacket. He was wearing a black shirt underneath that stretched over his big muscles. He looked at me, his blue eyes as sharp as knives.
"Why did you help me?" I asked. My voice was very small. "You told me to go away at the wedding. You gave me a check and told me to vanish."
Killian walked toward me. He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of me. He was so tall that I had to crane my neck back.
"I remember you, Sloane," he said.
I shook my head. "No. We have never met. I worked for Caleb. I stayed in the garage. People like you don't see people like me."
"Five years ago," he said. His voice was low. "The winter party at the Thorne mansion. You were working for the food company. You dropped a tray of glasses near the back door."
I froze. I remembered that night. I was nineteen. I was poor and nervous. I had dropped a tray of champagne, and the sound of breaking glass had made me want to cry. A man had stepped out of the shadows. He didn't yell. He had picked up the tray for me. He had touched my hand and told me it was okay. Then his guards had rushed him away.
"That was you?" I whispered.
"I never forgot your scent," he said.
He stepped even closer. The air in the room became very thick. It felt hard to breathe. The heat in the room was high, but a different kind of heat was starting to grow inside me. It started in my stomach and spread to my arms and legs.
My inner wolf, who had been quiet for a long time, suddenly woke up. She wasn't angry. She was humming. She wanted to be near him.
Killian reached out. His hand was very large. He put it on the side of my neck. His thumb brushed against my jaw. His skin was burning hot.
"You smell like rain and oil," he murmured. "And something else. Something I haven't smelled in a very long time."
I should have pushed him away. He was a Thorne. He was dangerous. But I couldn't move. My body felt like it was melting. I looked at his mouth. I wanted him to touch me. It was a crazy feeling. It was a hunger I didn't understand.
Killian made a low sound in his throat. It was a growl, but it was soft. He put his other hand on my waist. He pulled me against him. My chest hit his hard chest. I could feel his heart beating fast.
Then, he kissed me.
It was not a soft kiss. It was hard and hungry. It felt like a crash. He tasted like whiskey and salt. He put his hand in my hair and pulled my head back so he could kiss me deeper.
I didn't fight him. I kissed him back. I put my hands on his shoulders, feeling the hard muscles under his shirt. All the pain of the last three days—the betrayal by Caleb, the loss of my job, the fear of being homeless—it all vanished. There was only this man and this heat.
I needed more. I was desperate for the feeling of him. I moved my hands down to his chest. I felt the tattoo of the snake under his shirt. I wanted to be closer. I stepped into him, my legs rubbing against his.
Killian groaned into my mouth. He lifted me up and sat me on the edge of his big wooden desk. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him into me. His hands moved to my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. It hurt a little, but I liked it.
For a minute, the world was gone. There was no Caleb. There was no wedding. There was only the sound of our breathing and the heat between us. I felt like I was finally where I was supposed to be.
But then, Killian stopped.
He went very still. His body became hard like stone. He pulled his mouth away from mine. He was breathing very hard. His blue eyes were dark, almost black.
He looked at me, and his face changed. The heat went away. His eyes became cold again. He looked at me like he was angry at himself.
He grabbed my waist and physically pushed me off the desk. I stumbled back, my boots hitting the floor hard. I felt dizzy and confused.
"Killian?" I whispered. My lips were sore and tingling.
He turned his back on me. He walked to the window and looked out at the dark city. He was shaking his head. He gripped the edge of the window frame so hard that his knuckles turned white.
"We can't do this," he said. His voice was flat. It was cold. It sounded like he hated me.
"What happened?" I asked. I felt a new kind of shame. I felt like I had done something wrong.
"Get out of this office," he said. He didn't look at me. "There is a room down the hall. It has a bed and a lock. Go there. Stay there until the morning."
"Killian, talk to me," I said, taking a step toward him.
"I said get out!" he roared.
He turned around, and his face was terrifying. His eyes were glowing. He looked like he wanted to break something. He looked like a monster.
I didn't wait. I grabbed my tool bag and ran out of the room.
I found the room down the hall. It was small and dark. I went inside and locked the door. I sat on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hands.
My body was still shaking from his touch. I could still taste him on my lips. I didn't understand what was happening. Why did he save me? Why did he kiss me like he was starving? And why did he push me away like I was poison?
I pulled the check out of my pocket. I looked at it for the first time.
It was for fifty thousand dollars.
I stared at the paper. It was enough money to save my grandmother. It was enough to start a new life. But as I sat in the dark room of the Iron Wraiths clubhouse, I didn't feel rich.
I felt like I was in the middle of a war, and I didn't know which side I was on.
- Writer
