Tear Me Away (Desert Wraiths MC Romance) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Amy Kiss
more than just another biker. What did they call him again?
"Ghost, just get out of here." Twist backed almost on top of me.
Ghost. I remembered his eyes glowing against the darkness.
"Thanks for the help," Ghost said. "I'll take it from here."
"Like hell you will."
Twist's arm swung up like a piston, but where there had once been Ghost's face, there was simply air. No, that wasn't right. I had seen him step back, but it seemed so calm, so careless. It was like he had just drifted.
Twist stumbled forward and Ghost grabbed his arm. "Thanks for cleaning. We're even now," he said. Twist smacked the wall as Ghost spun him around. He was sent stumbling out the door.
Ghost shut it and looked down on me. His eyes were a rich ocean blue, but they were just that. No glow to them now. No cold, no warmth.
"Are you alright?" His voice was soft but rich within the wooden walls.
"Yes, thank you." I felt safe, when I knew I shouldn't. This guy was a murderer. He was just another biker, though he had no jacket on now. He wore just a t-shirt that showed all the many creases of his muscle. His eyes though, held no harsh edge. I felt at peace just looking in there
He helped me up. My head came up barely to his shoulder. I had a sudden burst of vertigo and felt the sudden urge to lean in and place my head on him. I remembered again that I'd seen those muscles help bury a knife in a man's throat an hour ago.
"Tell me what you know," he said.
I started telling him the same spiel I'd given that slimy brother of his, about how I didn't care about the dead guy. I was tired of games, and I was starting to believe my words even.
Ghost listened until I ran out of words to say I wouldn't tell anyone what I saw.
"And what did you see?"
Up close, those eyes were luminous. No, I had actually seen them change just now, lit up by something inside. Not with that other world glow I'd seen before he killed. But it seemed like he could see through any lies.
"Everything." I hung my head. "I saw everything."
He parsed me a moment and then nodded. "Did you record anything?"
My eyes dashed to my purse. Ghost pulled out my phone and we listened to Twist's tiny voice as he talked about cleaning up dead bodies. A dark exhaustion threatened to take me off my feet. I didn't even care what happened anymore. Ghost played it a second time.
"Nothing on the murder?"
"No."
He tapped the screens a few more times, then handed me the phone and my purse. The video was gone.
"That should be all," he said. "You ready?"
How could anyone be ready for this? Then again, if no one was ready, then I was about as ready as anyone. "Yeah, whatever," I said.
Ghost opened the door and waited as if he were ushering me out of a house party.
Maybe he'd offer me some food now, or a drink. A little treat while he conferred with the rest of his brothers. His jacket had a little patch that said "Vice-President." So he wasn't in charge. Just muscle. Which meant he couldn't make decisions.
They would make lock me back up here. If they were truly generous, they would let me develop Stockholm syndrome on my own rather than let a guy like Twist force himself on me. Maybe it was already happening. I felt a warmth toward Ghost that went beyond relief. I could barely remember the guy I'd seen commit murder. Heck, I hadn't seen it, not really. What I noticed now was the efficiency of his movement, the purpose in his body, the beauty of it under all that hardness. Quite a different thing from the naked ugliness of the other bikers I'd seen so far.
The sounds of the dirty bar outside hit me. My daydreams broke. I frowned at him. "Where do you want me to go?"
"Where do you want to go?"
I rolled my eyes. "Home."
"Ok. Let's go."
I tiptoed out as if my footsteps might remind him of how crazy his suggestion was. Ghost shut the door then landed a hand on my shoulder. For a horrid moment I was kicking myself for believing his lie. But he simply led me to a bike.
It was
"Ghost, just get out of here." Twist backed almost on top of me.
Ghost. I remembered his eyes glowing against the darkness.
"Thanks for the help," Ghost said. "I'll take it from here."
"Like hell you will."
Twist's arm swung up like a piston, but where there had once been Ghost's face, there was simply air. No, that wasn't right. I had seen him step back, but it seemed so calm, so careless. It was like he had just drifted.
Twist stumbled forward and Ghost grabbed his arm. "Thanks for cleaning. We're even now," he said. Twist smacked the wall as Ghost spun him around. He was sent stumbling out the door.
Ghost shut it and looked down on me. His eyes were a rich ocean blue, but they were just that. No glow to them now. No cold, no warmth.
"Are you alright?" His voice was soft but rich within the wooden walls.
"Yes, thank you." I felt safe, when I knew I shouldn't. This guy was a murderer. He was just another biker, though he had no jacket on now. He wore just a t-shirt that showed all the many creases of his muscle. His eyes though, held no harsh edge. I felt at peace just looking in there
He helped me up. My head came up barely to his shoulder. I had a sudden burst of vertigo and felt the sudden urge to lean in and place my head on him. I remembered again that I'd seen those muscles help bury a knife in a man's throat an hour ago.
"Tell me what you know," he said.
I started telling him the same spiel I'd given that slimy brother of his, about how I didn't care about the dead guy. I was tired of games, and I was starting to believe my words even.
Ghost listened until I ran out of words to say I wouldn't tell anyone what I saw.
"And what did you see?"
Up close, those eyes were luminous. No, I had actually seen them change just now, lit up by something inside. Not with that other world glow I'd seen before he killed. But it seemed like he could see through any lies.
"Everything." I hung my head. "I saw everything."
He parsed me a moment and then nodded. "Did you record anything?"
My eyes dashed to my purse. Ghost pulled out my phone and we listened to Twist's tiny voice as he talked about cleaning up dead bodies. A dark exhaustion threatened to take me off my feet. I didn't even care what happened anymore. Ghost played it a second time.
"Nothing on the murder?"
"No."
He tapped the screens a few more times, then handed me the phone and my purse. The video was gone.
"That should be all," he said. "You ready?"
How could anyone be ready for this? Then again, if no one was ready, then I was about as ready as anyone. "Yeah, whatever," I said.
Ghost opened the door and waited as if he were ushering me out of a house party.
Maybe he'd offer me some food now, or a drink. A little treat while he conferred with the rest of his brothers. His jacket had a little patch that said "Vice-President." So he wasn't in charge. Just muscle. Which meant he couldn't make decisions.
They would make lock me back up here. If they were truly generous, they would let me develop Stockholm syndrome on my own rather than let a guy like Twist force himself on me. Maybe it was already happening. I felt a warmth toward Ghost that went beyond relief. I could barely remember the guy I'd seen commit murder. Heck, I hadn't seen it, not really. What I noticed now was the efficiency of his movement, the purpose in his body, the beauty of it under all that hardness. Quite a different thing from the naked ugliness of the other bikers I'd seen so far.
The sounds of the dirty bar outside hit me. My daydreams broke. I frowned at him. "Where do you want me to go?"
"Where do you want to go?"
I rolled my eyes. "Home."
"Ok. Let's go."
I tiptoed out as if my footsteps might remind him of how crazy his suggestion was. Ghost shut the door then landed a hand on my shoulder. For a horrid moment I was kicking myself for believing his lie. But he simply led me to a bike.
It was
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