Page 5 of Demon Rider

Leaning my head on his shoulder I breath him in. I have ever had a reaction to a man like this before, it should send me rubbing, but I feel oddly at peace with Tyson.

Do I know what that means? No, but maybe he will tell me soon.

“Where are you taking me?” my voice is meek, but he hears me.

“To my club. We have a doc that can come in to check on you.”

“Okay.” I sigh, my hand on his chest.

We step outside and for the first time in days, I breathe easy.

Tyson walks over to a monster looking motorcycle.

“Wow.” Slips free.

His check vibrates as he chuckles.

“She is a beauty, right?”

I nod. He gently lets me down, my bare feet touching the grass next to the bike.

“Have you ever been on the back of one before?” he asks.

Shaking my head. “No, I don’t even drive.” I explain.

Keeping eye contact waiting to see what he has to say. I am not ashamed of having this illness that I have no control over. It was safer for me not to drive, but over the years, we found medication that helps with them, but I still never felt save driving a machine that can easily kill someone of me.

“What do you mean?” he frowns when he asks.

“I have epilepsy. My seizures used to get really bad, so I was told that I cannot drive,” I shrug.

He nods, after a few seconds, of looking at me. I shrink under his stare, my heartbeat getting faster as the shame seeps into my body.

“We will get back to this later. Right now, I need you looked at by Doc.”

He shows me how to climb onto the bike, making sure to not touch the pipes. My arms fit around his waist, and when my cheek meets his back, the cool leather against my skin, I sigh.

Like something clicks into place in my soul.

His hand settles on my thigh, rubbing back and forth, before he fires up the beast under us.

I let out a gasp, making him chuckle, his back vibrates with the sound.

Is it crazy that I feel completely safe with a stranger, who I just seen send a man back to Hell, through a hole in the concrete flooring that was not there originally?

It wasn’t until I went into foster care, that I found the help I needed, as my bio-trash did nothing to help me, so I was removed from them. My one and only foster family made sure that I got all the medical care I needed.

We hit the road, and I snuggle closer, the night air cooling my heated skin. My skin feels dirty and I hate being dirty, thanks to my bio-trash. For days I would be left unwashed and unfed, and it became a thing, that I would shower two, maybe three times a day, and make sure that I had enough to eat.

Brian and Tiffany always made sure there was food for me, and never once made me feel stupid for it. They understood my issues.

God, I miss them. Will Tyson let me contact them to let them know that I am okay safe, or do I just not tell them? Tiffany will freak the hell out, and Brian will charge to wherever I am and take me home.

The idea of not being where Tyson I makes my stomach knot.

How can this man, who I met less then an hour ago, make me feel like I would be lost without him? None of this makes sense to me.

Maybe it is the trauma that I have gone through. What is that thing called when you latch onto the person who saved you?