DOTTIE

Pipes purring in front of my house has a shiver of anticipated delight rolling through me. There’s only one person it could be.

Bull.

Not just because he’s the only person I’m friendly with that owns a bike, but because I’d know the powerful rev of that engine anywhere. For the past several weeks I’ve been a constant passenger on the back of it, my arms wrapped around the sexy, dynamic biker steering it.

With an extra pep in my step, I rush to the front of my house and toss open the screen door.

“Bull,” I greet with a wide smile that’s stretched a mile long across my face. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“Sorry to come over unannounced, Polka Dot, but I need to talk to you about something important,” he sighs. “May I come in?” He waves to the interior of my home.

“You’re always welcome here, my Bullheaded biker.” Stepping back, I wave him inside.

As he enters his eyes broaden and a mirthful smirk lights his face. “Looks like you’ve had a holiday explosion in your house, darlin’.”

“Yeah. Last year, after Christmas, I tossed all of my holiday decor into totes and never took the time to separate them, hence the decoration vomit.” There are lights, bulbs, ornaments, wreathes, lace, ribbon, and two floor-to-ceiling fake trees strewn about from my kitchen into the bowels of my living space.

“Why two?” he asks, waving his hands toward the two disassembled trees.

Giggling, I answer, “I decorate one for Thanksgiving and one for Christmas. My niece and nephew come over Thanksgiving Eve and I gift them with an outfit to wear the next day. It’s become a tradition for the three of us and it’s one I look forward to every year.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, Polka Dot, but I’m afraid I may have ruined it for you this year,” he groans. I’m confused, and sense a long story headed my way so I offer him a cup of coffee which he accepts. As I put a pot on to brew, Bull paces while combing his fingers through his hair and yanking on it until it’s standing up on end.

Worried about him I ask, “Are you okay, Bull? Is there anything you need from me?”

“Yeah, Dot, there is, but I’m afraid you’re not gonna be happy about what I’m fixing to ask of you,” he exhales through a heartfelt groan.

“Well, we’ll never know until you ask, now will we?” I counter, knowing that whatever it is he has to ask of me isn’t going to be easy on him.

The story, however, isn’t something I expected to hear. It sounds like something someone scripted for an action based, televised airing.

Shootouts.

Kidnappings.

Blackmailing.

Destruction and decimation.

What the hell kind of life do these people live, and what the fuck did I get myself dragged into? All I wanted was to do something spontaneous and feel free. I’ve always been the good girl who follows the rules laid down before me, and for once, I tossed the rules aside.

I wanted to be the rulebreaker, and experience what it’s like to not know what’s waiting for me around the next corner. To live on the wilder side of things. Well, that’s come back and bitten me square on the ass.

But the longer he talks, the more I know he’s serious… and if I had to make a guess, I’d say he’s scared. Not for himself, but for his family, and me.

“So, let me see if I’ve got this right. What you're saying is, in order for you to guarantee my safety, I need to go into hiding with you? Am I getting that right, Bull?”

“I can’t let anything happen to you, Dot. You may not be ready to accept this yet, but you're mine and I protect what I’ve claimed.”

“Claimed?” I ask, swallowing the lump that’s clogged in my throat. “As in… your property?” I’ve read, I’ve heard things about the biker way of life, I know what he means when he states this.

“No. Not my property, my old lady,” he remarks. “Some clubs view that as the same thing, we don’t. We have respect for our women. We’re a team, there’s no ownership in relationships, Dot.”

“You're saying all of the right things, Bull, but how do I know it’s not a bunch of bullshit? I could agree, then you could flip a switch and become an overbearing, controlling asshole.”

“I’m gonna have bad days, Polka Dot,” he confesses. “I’m gonna be on edge on days, I may come across as controlling and domineering but only when I’m worried, stressed, or uncomfortable about a situation. Never with harmful intent, that I can assure you. You and my club will always come first for me. Whatever I have to do in order to keep you happy and secure, I’m gonna do it. Regardless of if I’m your favorite person at the time or not. I’ll be the first to admit, I can be overbearing, and I can be controlling, but only if it’s warranted. I won’t be a dick just because I can, that’s not who I am nor who I wanna be, Dot. Give me a chance, come with me, and see what my club and I are about, then make a decision.”

“No pressure?” I ask for clarification.

“Can’t promise that either, darlin’. I want what I want, and I won’t hold back on getting it. I’ll pull out all the stops and won’t apologize for it.”

“At least you're honest if nothing else,” I harrumph, crossing my arms protectively over my chest, holding all of my fears inside.

“You’ll always know where you stand with me,” he retorts. “Now, are you gonna come all easy like or am I gonna have to go all caveman with ya?”

“Caveman?” I squeak. “What does that mean exactly?”

“It means, I’ll toss you over my shoulder, strap you to my bike, and whisk you away. For your own good, of course.”

“Of course,” I huff.

“So, what do ya say, Dot?”

“I guess seeing as I don’t have any other choice, I’m coming with you. Let me call my brother and tell him I’ll be going away for an unknown amount of time first,” I barter.

“You can’t, Dot. You have to die along with the rest of us in order for this to work.”

“I have to do what?” I yell.