SLAMMING INTO MY ROOM, I pulled out the small duffle I had brought and stuffed my few belongings into it. I dug out my cell phone and sent off a text to Reaper, apologizing for ditching out early from the reception. Then I called Snow and told him I had to take care of a few things and I would meet everyone at the hotel in Gallup, NM.

We had taken the longer ride down across I40 instead of the more direct route through Denver due to the temperatures and weather in early October. We had brought trailers with the SUV and truck, so if we got tired or the weather got bad, we could take turns riding, driving, and hauling. Two days and nearly 1800 miles is a long time on a bike, even if you love the hell out of it.

Snow asked if I wanted someone to ride with me, and I told him no, I was good, and to let everyone enjoy the reception. I would stow my cut to avoid any issues on the road since I would be riding solo. You just don’t go flashing your colors around in another MC’s territory. Snow told me to be careful, which I always was. After tapping out a quick text to Joker and Hacker, I stuffed my phone into my inner pocket of my jacket.

With careless regard for my shit, I shoved the bag and my cut in the saddle bags and climbed on. I had always ridden a soft tail, but decided to spoil myself after returning home from the Army, and bought a black Street Glide. I fucking loved this bike.

Damn, I was so pissed at myself and her, I was shaking. Searching my pockets, I found the stub of a joint, stuck it between my lips and lit the end. A couple of puffs and I felt my tension ease. A couple more and it was pretty much used up. Far from high, but feeling calmer, I tossed it to the ground and exhaled the last breath I had held.

Jerking on my helmet, I settled in and zipped my jacket up all the way. Clutch, brake, and then I was putting her in neutral before flipping the engine switch and hitting the start button. She purred to life with a deep rumble, and I gunned the throttle to blow out the dust. Shit, I loved the Rinehart true duel pipes I had added. Best sound, ever… next to the little sighs and moans Becca made as our bodies collided…

What the hell? Fuck me.

Let’s go, baby. We need some asphalt under our wheels.

There would be about six hours to think on the way to Gallup. As I eased on the throttle, I left the situation tearing at my heart and dick behind me. Too bad it didn’t flush this fucked-up situation from my mind as well.

It was late and the roads had been nearly deserted most of the night. At about two in the morning, I pulled off the interstate and up to the hotel we stopped at on the way down. Of course, I had made good time, and let’s just say I was lucky I hadn’t encountered any damn cops. Habit had me backing my bike into a spot in front of the hotel. My head was screaming, and I had hoped to have a drink at the bar before I hit the sack, but I didn’t make it before closing time. Oh well, I walked over to the 24-hour convenience store across from the hotel and picked up a fifth of Jack. Yeah, I may not drink much anymore, but tonight was definitely a Jack night.

After checking in, I dropped my bags in my room and walked to the chair in front of the open curtains without turning on the lights. Restless, I sat staring out the window at the night lights, tipped the bottle up, and tried to forget her.

Damn, she’d lured me like a siren and woven her very essence through my veins. Her face flashed like a strobe light in my mind with all her beautiful expressions a kaleidoscope in my head. Visions of her laughing with her eyes twinkling, angry with eyes dark and gleaming, and painfully clear was the expression on her beautiful face as she was lost in passion, on the brink of imploding. That was when her lips were full and red, her mouth parted with her gasping breaths, and her lashes casting shadows over her glazed jade eyes.

She was under my skin, and I couldn’t stand it. Never had I been so hung up on a woman. And of course, I had to become obsessed with an unfaithful bitch. The problem was, she had her claws in me after one night, and I was on the verge of throwing away all my morals and promises for her sweet, addictive pussy. That was why I had to leave. The only cure I could think of was to find someone else to bury my cock in until the memories of her were nothing but hazy photographs in my mind. If I could lock her away with the memories of all the shit from my deployments, including the accident in Afghanistan, I knew I would be okay. Yeah, just lock it all away—easier said than done.

It didn’t take me long to polish off the bottle in the mood I was in. Good thing I hadn’t bought a bigger bottle, because I could have kept going. When I stood up, the alcohol hit me like lightning, and I swayed on my feet.

Whoa. This was why I quit drinking so much of that shit.

Boots kicked off, I flipped back the bedspread and crashed face down on the bed. My heavy eyes drifted closed, and I fell asleep with green eyes, red lips, and deep auburn hair racing through my mind. I could have sworn I even smelled her perfume.

Shit, I was so fucked.