The biker's ex returns

I knew coming back to Redemption Creek was a mistake the second my battered Honda coughed its last breath on Main Street.

Ten years. Ten years of running, hiding, surviving. And now I was back where it all began, with seventeen dollars in my wallet and bruises I could not explain away anymore.

The engine ticked as it cooled. I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel, tasting blood where I had bitten my lip too hard. My ribs screamed with every breath-courtesy of Derek's boots three nights ago in that motel parking lot outside Tucson.

"You cannot run forever, Jenna," he had said, his voice cold as winter. "I will find you again."

But I had run. Again.

A rumble split the air. Deep. Mechanical. The kind that made your bones vibrate.

I lifted my head and saw them. Six motorcycles rolling down Main Street like they owned it. Leather. Chrome. The devil's head patch on their backs-red eyes, fangs bared.

Devil's Reign MC.

My blood turned to ice.

The lead bike pulled up beside my car. The rider kicked down the stand and swung off in one fluid motion. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair touching his collar. When he pulled off his helmet, the world tilted sideways.

Colt Richardson.

Those steel-gray eyes locked onto mine through the windshield, and for three heartbeats, neither of us moved. His jaw was harder now, shadowed with stubble. Scars traced his knuckles. The boy I had loved wore a man's face now-all sharp edges and controlled fury.

He crossed to my door and yanked it open. "Get out."

Not "Hello." Not "Jenna, is that you?"

Just a command.

I stumbled out on shaky legs. The other riders had stopped, engines idling, watching us like wolves circling prey.

"Colt-"

"Ten years." His voice was granite. "Ten years, Jenna. Not a word. Not a letter. Nothing."

"I can explain-"

"You ran." He stepped closer, and I backed against the car. "The night before our wedding. You ran."

The wedding. God, I had almost forgotten. White dress bought on layaway. His grandmother's ring. Promises I could not keep because my father-

"My father said he would kill you," I whispered. "He said if I married you, he would put a bullet in your head."

Colt's expression did not change. "Your father's been dead for five years."

The words hit like a slap. "What?"

"Heart attack. Died in his club's garage." He tilted his head, studying me like I was something broken. "You did not know."

I could not breathe. Could not think. My father-dead. The man who had controlled every second of my life. The man whose threats had chased me across state lines.

Gone.

"You are wearing Devil's Reign colors," I said, my voice cracking. "My father's enemies."

"Your father's club fell apart after he died. We absorbed what was left." Colt's smile was sharp. Dangerous. "I run Redemption Creek now, Jenna. Every street. Every back road. Every person who walks through here answers to me."

One of the other riders laughed. "Boss, this girl? The one who-"

"Shut up, Razor." Colt never took his eyes off me. "Why are you back?"

Because I had nowhere else to go. Because Derek would not stop hunting me. Because I was so tired of running I could barely stand.

But I said none of that.

"My car broke down."

"Try again."

"I needed-" My voice broke. "I needed somewhere safe."

"Safe?" He laughed, cold and bitter. "You think running back to the man whose heart you shattered makes you safe?"

"Please." I hated how small I sounded. "Just let me stay a few days. I will leave. I promise."

"Like you promised to show up at the church?" He leaned in close enough that I smelled leather and motor oil and something darker. "Like you promised you loved me?"

"I did love you." The words ripped out of me. "I still-"

His hand shot out and gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. His thumb brushed my split lip, and I flinched.

The change in him was instant. His eyes went flat. Cold.

"Who hit you?"

"No one. I fell-"

"Jenna." My name was a warning. "Who? Hit. You."

"It does not matter."

"It matters to me." His grip tightened just enough to make his point. "You are in my town now. Under my protection. Whether you want it or not."

"I do not need your protection."

"That split lip and those bruises say something different." He released me and stepped back. "Razor, get her car towed to the garage. Jenna, you are coming with me."

"I am not going anywhere with you."

He smiled then, and it was the most frightening thing I had seen all week. "You can ride behind me, or I can throw you over my shoulder. Your choice."

The other riders were watching now, waiting.

I was so tired. So broken.

"Fine."

Colt handed me his helmet. "Hold on tight. I drive fast."

As I climbed onto the bike behind him, his words from ten years ago echoed in my memory: *"You are mine, Jenna. Always."*

I wrapped my arms around his waist, felt the heat of him, the solid muscle that had not been there when we were kids.

He was right about one thing.

I was back in Redemption Creek.

But I had a terrible feeling I would not be leaving.

Not without paying for every promise I had broken.

The compound sat at the edge of town like a fortress. High fence. Guard at the gate. Rows of motorcycles gleaming under security lights.

Colt's bike rumbled through the entrance, and I felt every eye on us. Men in leather vests stopped mid-conversation. A woman smoking by the clubhouse door crushed her cigarette under her boot, watching me like I was a ghost.

Maybe I was.

The girl who left this town died somewhere between Texas and California. What came back was something else entirely.

Colt killed the engine and swung off. He did not offer to help me down. I climbed off awkwardly, my legs shaking from the ride and everything else.

"Inside," he said. "Now."

The clubhouse was exactly what I expected. Bar along one wall. Pool tables. Worn leather couches. The smell of whiskey and motor oil and violence barely contained.

A massive man with a gray beard looked up from the bar. "That her?"

"Yeah, Hammer. That is her." Colt's voice was ice.

"Well, hell." Hammer laughed, but it was not friendly. "The runaway bride returns. This ought to be entertaining."

I wanted to disappear. To run again. But Colt's hand closed around my wrist, holding me in place.

"Everyone out," Colt said. "Church in ten minutes. Spread the word."

The room cleared fast. Too fast. Within seconds, it was just us.

Colt released me and walked to the bar, pouring whiskey into two glasses. He downed his in one swallow, then turned to face me.

"Sit."

"I would rather stand."

"I was not asking." His eyes were flat. Dead. "Sit down, Jenna."

I sank onto the nearest couch, my ribs protesting. Everything hurts. My body. My heart. My soul.

He stayed at the bar, studying me like I was a puzzle he wanted to break apart. "Tell me about the bruises."

"There is nothing to tell."

"Wrong answer." He poured another whiskey. "You have three seconds before I lose my patience. One."

"Colt, please-"

"Two."

"His name is Derek!" The words exploded out of me. "His name is Derek Monroe. I met him in Nevada two years ago. He seemed nice. Normal. By the time I realized what he was, it was too late."

"What is he?"

"A monster." My voice cracked. "He hits me when he is angry. He tracks my phone. He threatened to kill me if I left. So I left anyway. But he found me in Tucson three days ago and-" I touched my ribs, wincing. "I barely got away."

Colt set down his glass very carefully. Too carefully. "He is going to come looking for you."

It was not a question.

"Yes."

"Good." His smile was sharp. Deadly. "I want him to."

Fear spiked through me. "Colt, you do not understand. He is dangerous. He-"

"I run the Devil's Reign MC." He crossed to me in three strides, crowding me against the couch. "Do you know what that means? It means I own this town. It means when someone hurts what is mine, I make them bleed."

"I am not yours anymore."

"You were always mine." His hand cupped my jaw, thumb tracing the bruise on my cheekbone. "From the first day I saw you in Mrs. Henderson's history class. Remember that?"

I did. God help me, I did.

Sophomore year. I was the new girl, trying to be invisible. Colt Richardson was the boy every girl wanted and every guy feared. He sat behind me, kicked my chair, and said, "You have pretty hair."

I told him to leave me alone.

He grinned and said, "Not a chance."

"That was a lifetime ago," I whispered.

"You are right." His grip tightened. "That boy would have begged you to stay. Would have forgiven you for running. But he is gone, Jenna. I killed him the day you did not show up at that church."

"Then let me go. Please."

"No." He released me and stepped back. "You are staying here. In the compound. Under my protection. You do not leave without permission. You do not talk to anyone I have not approved. You belong to me now."

"You cannot just-"

"I can do whatever I want." His voice dropped to something dark. Dangerous. "You came back to my territory. That makes you mine by default. Unless you want to leave? Go back out there where Derek can find you? Because I promise, he will. Men like that always do."

He was right. I hated that he was right.

"How long?" I asked quietly.

"How long is it?"

"How long do I have to stay?"

"Until I say otherwise." He walked to the door, then paused. "There is a room upstairs. Second door on the left. Shower. Clean clothes in the closet. Someone will bring you food."

"Colt-"

He looked back, and for just a second, I saw the boy I loved. The one who held me when my father got drunk and mean. The one who promised we would escape this town together.

Then it was gone.

"Welcome home, Jenna," he said softly. "I hope it was worth it."

The door closed behind him with a final click.

I sat alone in that empty clubhouse and finally let myself cry. Not because I was trapped. Not because Derek was still out there hunting me.

But because the boy I loved was gone.

And the man who replaced him terrified me more than any monster ever could.

A phone buzzed somewhere in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out with shaking hands.

One new message. Unknown number.

"Found you. See you soon, baby. -D"

I stared at Derek's message until the screen blurred.

He knew. Somehow, he knew exactly where I was.

My hands shook so badly I nearly dropped the phone. I should tell Colt. Show him the message. But the thought of facing those cold gray eyes again made my stomach twist.

The door burst open.

I jumped, shoving the phone into my pocket.

A woman strode in-tall, blonde, curves poured into tight jeans and a leather vest. Her patch read "Property of Razor." She looked me up and down like I was something stuck to her boot.

"So you are the famous Jenna." She set a plate of food on the table. "The girl who broke our president's heart."

"I did not mean to-"

"Save it." She lit a cigarette, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. "I am Candy. I run the girls here. Colt says you are staying, so we need to establish some rules."

"Rules?"

"Rule one: You do not talk to the members without permission. Rule two: You do not leave the compound without an escort. Rule three:" Her eyes went hard. "You do not mess with Colt's head. He is finally over you. Finally running this club the way it should be run. You screw that up, and I will make your life hell."

"I am not trying to mess with anyone."

"Good. Keep it that way." She headed for the door, then paused. "The shower is upstairs. You look like you need it."

The door slammed behind her.

I sat there, frozen, until my stomach growled. The food was simple-burger and fries-but I could not remember the last time I ate. I forced down half before my ribs screamed in protest.

The phone buzzed again.

"I can see the fence from here. Nice place. Lots of security. Won't matter. -D"

Ice flooded my veins.

He was here. Outside. Watching.

I ran for the door, yanked it open, and nearly collided with a solid chest.

Colt.

His hands shot out, gripping my arms. "Where are you going?"

"He is here." My voice came out strangled. "Derek. He is outside. He sent me messages-"

"Show me."

I fumbled for the phone, hands shaking so hard I almost dropped it. Colt took it, read the messages, and his expression went deadly calm.

"Razor!" he barked.

The big man from earlier appeared within seconds. "Boss?"

"Double the guards. Lock down the compound. No one in or out without my authorization." Colt's voice was steel. "And find me a white pickup truck. Nevada plates. The driver is male, thirties, probably watching the fence line."

"On it." Razor disappeared.

Colt pulled me back inside, kicked the door shut. "Why did you not tell me the second you got that message?"

"I was going to-"

"Liar." He backed me against the wall, his body caging mine. "You were going to run again. Just like you always do."

"No, I just-" The words died when I saw his face. Fury. Raw and barely controlled.

"Do you have any idea what I went through that day?" His voice was quiet. Dangerous. "Standing in that church. Waiting. My mother is crying. Your friends are whispering. And you were just gone."

"My father threatened to kill you." Tears burned my eyes. "He showed me his gun. Told me exactly how he would do it. I could not let that happen."

"So you saved me by destroying me instead?" His laugh was bitter. "Real noble, Jenna."

"I was eighteen! I was terrified!"

"And now?" His thumb traced my jaw. "Are you still terrified of me?"

Yes. But not the way he thought.

I was terrified of how much I still wanted him. How much I still loved him, even after everything.

"Colt-"

Glass shattered somewhere outside. Shouting erupted. Gunfire cracked through the night-sharp, brutal, final.

Colt's entire body went rigid. "Stay here."

"What is happening?"

"Stay. Here." He pulled a gun from his waistband, checked the clip. "Lock this door behind me. Do not open it for anyone except me. Understand?"

"Colt, please-"

He kissed me. Hard. Desperate. Nothing like the sweet kisses we shared as teenagers. This was possession. Claim. Warning.

Then he was gone.

I locked the door with shaking hands and backed away from it. More gunfire. Shouting. The roar of engines.

My phone buzzed.

"Come outside, Jenna. Or I start killing your new friends. You have sixty seconds. -D"

No. No, no, no.

Another message.

"Fifty seconds."

I looked at the locked door. Heard more shots fired. Someone screamed.

This was my fault. Derek followed me here. He was hurting these people because of me.

"Thirty seconds. Your choice, baby. You or them."

My hand reached for the lock before I could think. Before I could stop myself.

I knew what would happen if I went out there. Knew what Derek would do to me.

But I could not let innocent people die because I was a coward.

The lock clicked open.

I stepped into the hallway just as an explosion rocked the compound. The lights went out. Emergency reds kicked on, bathing everything in blood.

And at the end of the hall, silhouetted against the red glow, stood a figure I knew too well.

Derek smiled.

"There is my girl," he said softly. "Did you miss me?"

Behind him, I saw Colt round the corner, gun raised.

Their eyes met.

And I realized with horrible clarity that tonight, one of them was going to die.