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“My bike’s down the road,” he said. “We hid them so Luke and his dad wouldn’t know we were on our way to get you guys.”
“How did you find us?”
“That’s a long story for another time. How about we tell you all about it when you’re not shaking so badly?” Corey took my hand again, lending me his warmth.
We continued walking until we reached the tree-lined road where they’d hidden their bikes.
His handsome face was etched with worry as he fitted a helmet on my head.
“You’re still shaking so bad,” he said, drawing me against him.
I clung to him, relishing in the warmth that radiated off him.
“At this rate, you’ll freeze by the time we reach home.” Stepping away, he took off his jacket.
“What about you?” I asked as he helped me put my arms into the long sleeves.
“I’ll be fine,” he said in a gruff voice. He held on to my wrist, moving it this way and that, looking at something closely. “You need someone to patch you up too. Just look at these bruises and cuts.”
I looked down at my wrists. Ugly red welts marred my skin. “I did this to myself,” I told him. “Luke tied me up with ropes and I kept trying to get out of them.”
“We’ll make sure that bastard wishes he were dead like his dad.”
The sight of Bill’s bleeding corpse rose in my mind. Instead of feeling traumatized, I felt relief.
That evil man was dead. He could no longer hurt me or the people I loved.
“Let’s go home,” I said.
Corey gave a nod and gracefully climbed his bike.
It took a little struggle for me to be seated but once I was safely settled behind him, I wrapped my arms around Corey. My body molded against his back, greedily soaking up his warmth.
Corey rode like the wind, the speed so high, everything around me turned into a blur of green and brown.
We were at the gates of Amhurst Mansion within half an hour.
Pure relief rushed through me as Corey drove through the quiet, peaceful grounds, taking us to the entrance of the underground garage where we kept our cars.
I’m finally home.Warmth and safety stole through me at the thought.
Corey led me to the upper floors of the house. A few maids and valets were already up and doing their chores.
Corey’s big jacket easily hid the state of my clothes. No one could tell I’d been through the most awful night of my life.
We quietly went into the private parlor room on the second floor. No one would come here to disturb us.
Corey poured us both tumblers of bourbon and handed me my glass.
“I’m not sure I should be drinking,” I said, looking at the rich amber liquid.
“It’s okay. You need something to warm you up.”
“I thought I heard voices," a different voice sounded from the doorway.
Brian walked into the room.
He only needed to take one look at me to know something was wrong. Moving closer, he gently caressed my head. “What happened, kiddo? You look awful. Are you feeling sick?”
