Sleeping with Saylor feels good. I like the feeling of her body perfectly molded to mine so much, that even after I’ve completely rested, I lay here with her wrapped around me. I pull my eyes from the rise and fall of her chest and focus on the ceiling. I can’t look at her and think clearly, and right now, I’m thinking hard.
I’m thinking that I have to leave very soon and that I want her to go with me. But I don’t know how the club will respond to that. They will not like her being around. They don’t trust women. They will be afraid she will say something and get us all in a world of shit. I know that my job makes me a target. I don’t give a fuck if anyone comes for me, but she is a liability. I could keep her safe, but I would have to trust her.
My phone rings, pulling me from my thoughts. Nationals. I move from the bed, trying not to disturb her. “We need you in Amsterdam by tomorrow for a benefit. An old friend had a wreck and they don’t think he is gonna make it. We need all the help we can get, brother.”
“I’ll be there.” The call is disconnected and a sick feeling comes over me. To become a Nomad, I had to take a physical and written test. They wanted to know my body could endure long rides and extreme conditions.
The written part tested whether I would be able to decode messages like this one. Amsterdam was code for Alabama. A benefit was code for a funeral and a wreck told me that I needed to make my target’s death a painful one. When I got to Alabama, I would decode a set of numbers disguised as a birthday and they would tell me the coordinates of where I needed to go. There, I would pick up the package that would contain all the information I needed on my target.
This kind of job was usually pretty easy for me, but now I had to make a choice. Either I left Saylor behind, or I made her an accomplice. I didn’t want to do either, but I had to choose. The easy thing to do would be to just leave and not tell her. But I couldn’t do that. Not to her. Not again. And there was no use in thinking any more about it. My mind was made up.
I look over at Saylor, who is now awake, smiling up at me sleepily. “I have to leave, Saylor.” I watch her smile fade and her eyes drop to her fidgeting hands. My words have just crushed her. I don’t like seeing her sad, but I like that my absence can be so upsetting. She wants to be with me. “I want you to come with me.” Her head snaps up in shock. I wait for the questions of where and for how long to start. I search her face for the look of regret before she tells me she can’t be away that long when I tell her I don’t know when we’re coming back.
“Why do you want me to go? Why now?” The doubt in her voice puts that ache back in my chest. She never thought I would ask, and the only explanation I have to give her is the honest truth.
“Because I don’t want to be away from you anymore.”
—
I’m playing with fire. My decision to let Saylor travel with me is potentially life threatening not only to me, but to her too. She knows I’m a biker, but I don’t think she understands what that actually means. She doesn’t know my job or what it is I do when I’m on the road. I want to be honest with her, but I can’t betray my club and I won’t make her an accomplice to my crimes.
My answer to her question was all the reason she needed. She agreed almost immediately, trusting me with her life without any demand for further knowledge of anything. Moments after I told her, I received a text from Shady notifying me that she’d canceled her flight. She was canceling a trip she’s always wanted to take, just to be with me. As I watch her pack a bag, the thought eats away at me and now I have to ask her why.
“Don’t you want to know where we’re going?”
“It doesn’t matter. Anywhere but here is good enough for me.” I grab her elbow, stopping her from shoving things into her backpack until her gaze reaches my eyes.
“I need more than that, Saylor. Why are you so willing to run away with a piece of shit like me?” She frowns at my words.
“I’ve been in this town my whole life. I have nothing. I know you are confused about why I chose you. I can see the uncertainty in your eyes every time I look at them. All I can tell you is that you inspire me. You make me want to live.” Her eyes drop to her hands a moment before she looks back at me with sorrow and tears in those green pools I’m so obsessed with. “I just want to live.”
I’m trying to decipher her meaning. I’m trying to decode her words, but I come up with nothing. The only reasonable explanation is that she has been hurt. Someone here in this shitty town has hurt her and she just wants to get away. I’m her knight on a steel horse. Her genie in leather. Her dark Prince Fuckin’ Charming. But she needs to know what she’s agreeing to.
“Do you know who I am?” My voice is barely a whisper. I hope she doesn’t ask, because I don’t know if I could tell her. She smiles, and when she speaks, every doubt inside me vanishes.
“You’re Dirk.”
—