OWNED BY THE BIKER KING

Rain hammered against the bus window as I stared at the sleepy little town that was supposed to save me. Black Creek. The kind of place where people minded their own business, where secrets stayed buried, and where girls like me disappeared without questions. Exactly what I needed. I tightened my grip on my duffle bag when the bus stopped in front of a dimly lit bar. A glowing neon sign flickered above the entrance. HELL’S THROTTLE. Bad sign. The moment I stepped off the bus, the smell of gasoline, leather and cigarette smoke wrapped around me. Then I felt it. Eyes. Watching me. A heavily tattooed man leaned against a black motorcycle across the street. His dark gaze locked onto me like he already owned me. And somehow… That terrified me more than the man I ran from. I should’ve kept walking. That was my first mistake. The biker pushed himself off the motorcycle slowly, boot scraping against the wet pavement as thunder echoed above us. Every instinct screamed at me to run. But I was tired of running. “You lost, sweetheart? “ His deep voice rumbled. I swallowed hard “Just looking for a motel ” His eyes dragged over me slowly-cold, dangerous, unredable. Then his jaw tightened. “Who hurt you? ” The question caught me off guard. I forced out a laugh. “You ask that to every stranger? ” “No” he muttered, stepping closer. “Just the one who looks terrified.” My heart pounded violently. Because he was right. I was terrified. Not of him. But of the man who was probably still searching for me. Suddenly, a loud engine roared from the end of the street. That man expression darkened instantly. And for the first time that night- He looked dangerous enough to kill. To be continued