Ride or Die - A Biker Romance

I've been watching her for awhile. I know it sounds crazy, or creepy; but I promise it's not. I watch her for her safety, to protect her. It started when we were kids. She'd show up at school with random injuries that she'd refuse to explain. Eventually people quit asking. Her injuries stopped the year we dated after high school; almost as if whoever was hurting her was afraid I'd see. They started again when we broke up and stopped when her father died. When she met Joel Ketchum, black eyes started routinely appearing a year into their relationship. I'd try to catch him in a bar to ask him about it but he'd bolt as soon as he saw me. Something about biker leather I guess. It's not all that surprising that it's happening again. After all, she'd grown up with it as a dominant feature in her childhood. Her father liked to drink and pound on her mother until she had had enough and left. He turned his anger and sadness on his only child. My family and the club were the only safe place for her when we were together. I didn't want to leave her. I was afraid my lifestyle would have gotten her hurt or killed. I was the only one that treated her like she should have been treated. I never tried to control her, never told her who she could and couldn't talk to, didn't try to harass her. I never put my hands on her or said anything to make her cry. I did everything I could for her. Gave her everything she needed, wanted, or just because. I made sure she got fresh cut flowers every Tuesday, had them sent if I was on the road. We went out on Saturdays before I'd leave for a long run. At night, if I was home she fell asleep to me rubbing her back. I took care of her when she was sick, calmed her darkest fury and soothed her when depression and anxiety reared their ugly heads. I treated her like the queen she is. We were the couple that others tried to model, the couple that never fought. I never made her cry. Until that night. I had just come back from a really dangerous excursion and because we were delivering a delicate package across enemy lands we really couldn't keep in contact. Our MC and our rival MC were at arms, and ambushed us on our way home. It was touch and go for awhile, and when I got pinned down by a total stranger and told Annabell's address I became legitimately afraid for her life. I'd been getting threats about her for awhile, but suddenly someone dangerous knowing where she lived scared the actual hell out of me. When we finally came home, I had made up my mind. If you really someone and you know someone will hurt them to get to you; I had to let her go. Annabell was so worried because I couldn't keep in touch, that when she saw me, her relief turned into white hot anger. I totally ignored her insults and let her blows bounce off my chest. It was the first time she'd actually yelled at me, but I didn't care. I had to sever ties before she really got hurt. I'm sure she was thinking about what most bikers do on runs, but that was never me. We haven't been together in years and I still haven't wanted anyone else. As soon as the words left my mouth I wanted to take them back. I thought she'd understand. The look on her face - shock, disgust and then hate- nearly killed me. Her face was white and then emotionless. I had done what I promised I wouldn't. I hurt her more than anyone else did.