Loving Me, Trusting You Read Online Free PDF Page B

dog eyes at me? If he thinks it makes me feel better, he's wrong. I can't even look at his face anymore without drowning in need. I don't want him to need me. I don't want anyone to need me. I want to simply exist and be a part of the road and the wind. I need oil and chrome and burnt rubber, not kisses and sweet nothings. As shitty as it is, I can always buy a new bike, always fix one up, always start over with a new piece of metal, breathe life into it and run away. With love, you don't get a do over. It just happens the way it happens, and if it fucks you, so what? There's nothing you can do about it. Walker shoved that principle deep into my heart and the thorns have been cutting me ever since. And then there's little Amy Cross, Southern Bell Bitch Virgin from the middle of nowhere. I never expected her, thought I'd have at least a slice of Austin's life for the rest of mine.
    I down my next beer and pretend I don't feel Gaine watching me.
    “You know it wasn't personal, Mireya,” he says, and in his voice, I can tell he feels bad for me. That just pisses me off even more. I squeeze my fists tight and say nothing.
    “Can we move on, please? You invited us down here for a reason, right?”
    Austin sighs and shakes his head.
    “I did. Frankly, I'm a little overwhelmed. Everything just happened so damn fast, I don't know what to do with myself. We ain't got a lot left to be honest with y'all. The last few … ventures Kimmi and I undertook didn't exactly go over successfully.”
    “Well, what the shit does that mean?” Beck asks, slamming his drink on the counter and making the bartender jump. The man glowers at us, but with a green eyed glare from Beck, he finally moves away and focuses his attention on an old man that stumbles in and flops down on the seat farthest from us.
    “It means that after we finish doing what we need to do here, we go straight to Fort Walton, recharge with some fresh supplies and lay low on the coast, somewhere that doesn't belong to anybody else. I don't think we need a turf war layered on top of all this shit,” Kimmi says with a sigh, brushing some of her bright red curls back from her face. “But before we go, I think we should check with Broken Dallas, the MC that owns Fort Walton. I don't want to step on any toes. Let's just let 'em know that we'll be in and out, no questions asked. That way, if Bested wants to stop by and pay us a visit, they'll have to go through them first.”
    “Sounds good to me,” Beck says.
    “Of course it does,” I growl at him from across the counter. “You're a blundering idiot that doesn't think things through. You want to rob a bank ?” I hiss. “You think that's a good idea right now? The cops are going to be looking for somebody to pin those murders on. You don't think we should be worried about that?”
    “I think,” Austin says, interrupting me before I can really get going. He doesn't want to hear what I have to say, that's for sure. Once I get started, I won't be able to stop. I think I'll just keep talking until the words turn to screams and then sobs. I've got a lot going on inside right now, most of which I don't understand. I feel conflicted and lost. I don't like it. I don't like it at all. “That the cops don't give a shit about some broken ass bikers. They'll call it a gang war and write it off like they always do. Nobody but us cares whether we live or die, and that's,” Austin says, rising to his feet as little Miss Perfect appears from the elevator and casts a shy smile his way. “Why I think avoiding Bested by Crows is more important than avoiding the cops. Let's just get to Fort Walton, get this money and have a little sand and surf.”
    “You asked us down here for our opinions, right?” I ask him, spinning around on the chair as he steps back and wets his lips. He wanted a 'meeting', so he's going to get one. I don't care that Miss Amy walked into the room all saccharine sweet, the white fabric of the dress she's just