Willow nudged her arm. "You might want to cover your ears."
She glanced at Willow when Onyx whistled, having no time to take the warning. Silence came over the room. Impressed at the level of obedience the president of Killere Motorcycle Club drew from his men, Timber stood straighter as if something big was going to happen.
"We have a new waitress at the diner, and Timber needs a room to stay in for a while until we have room at the motel. She'll pay rent. So, if you have a spare room or a couch to help her out, I'd appreciate it." Onyx looked around the room. "Treat her with respect. She's not someone to play with and then throw away."
All eyes landed on her. She forced herself to breathe. Each man appraised her as if Onyx would break out auctioning her off to the highest bidder.
"She's Dice's daughter, which means she belongs to the Killere family. When she's around, she is your sister," emphasized Onyx.
No one had ever treated her as untouchable before or demanded respect. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to react.
Having moved around her whole life, she never grew close to others or had the opportunity to become involved in large groups like Killere.
"She can stay at my place, and I'll crash on the couch." A biker she remembered others calling Slim stepped forward. "Hell, I'm not home most of the time. She'll be able to rest when she's not working."
Slim walked toward her. Ten feet away from her, someone in the back of the crowd said, "She ain't going with you."
Unable to see around or over Slim, she could only go off the goosebumps covering her arms that the angry, deep voice came from the man who'd refused to help her when Clyde kicked her out of the truck.
"Jesus, Romeo." Slim turned. "You already have enough women falling at your feet. Are you trying to set a record by getting them all?"
"That's enough," barked Onyx. "Romeo, you're responsible for taking Timber to your place and getting her back when she's on the schedule to work."
Timber vibrated. She wanted to argue against going home with him. He was rude.
And what had Onyx called him? Romeo? She could only imagine how he got that name.
"Romeo's a good guy. You'll be safe with him." Willow put her hand on Timber's back. "If you need anything, you have my number. I can always have one of the members bring you what you need."
"Safe?" She leaned closer. "Is there a reason why I wouldn't be safe?"
All the warnings her parents gave her growing up came to the forefront. Maybe she'd taken on too much, too fast. She was trying to gain her independence, not end up dead from living with a serial killer or one of the bad men roaming around looking for her.
There was a flash of something flickering in Willow's gaze before she caught herself and shook her head. "No, of course not."
She was used to danger. There were hidden risks around each corner. Her parents had moved her from one end of town to the other, zigzagging through all the neighborhoods, staying ahead of danger. They believed strangers were out to get her.
Despite their overcautious tendencies, they left her alone to raise herself. Once she hit her teenage years, she believed that most of the problems her parents created were in their heads.
Romeo approached her and grabbed her elbow, leading her away before she could voice her reasons for not wanting to go with him. At the door, she stopped.
The rush of moving her out of the motel room and into Romeo's house left her flustered. She couldn't think.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"My bag?" She turned around and found Onyx holding everything she owned out to her.
She grabbed the handle and nodded her thanks. It was hard enough to deal with Onyx with Willow in the room, but to have so many members of Killere watching and judging her made her self-conscious.
The president of Killere dipped his chin. She left the clubhouse, unsure of how things had happened so fast.
At least away from the clubhouse, if her dad showed up, he wouldn't find her and make her go back to Seattle.
"Have you ever ridden on the back of Dice's motorcycle?" Romeo stopped beside his bike.
Her mom always called her dad Jeff when she complained about him. It was hard to think of her dad as someone who went by the name Dice. She looked down at her skirt and shook her head. Biting her lips, she smoothed the denim, trying to stretch it,but it only went to the top of her thighs.
She had no idea about the logistics of riding a motorcycle, but she was positive the short material wouldn't allow her to spread her legs wide enough to straddle the seat, much less his body when she sat behind him.
Romeo took her bag and, using a Bungee cord, attached it to the back of the motorcycle. "It's a warm night. You should be fine with what you're wearing. We're not going far."
She gazed up at the sky, focusing on the blackness beyond the lights of the truck stop. Stars littered the night, reminding her that tonight was like any other night.
Except, it wasn't. Not by a long shot.
"Once I'm on the Harley, step on this foot peg and get on behind me. There's another peg on the other side. Keep your feet on them. When I start the engine, wrap your arms around my waist." He got on the bike. "It'll feel like we're tipping to the side around corners, but that's normal. Lean with me, and don't panic. I'm not going to crash."
Her heart raced. She stared at him.
"Come on, Dice must've taken you for a ride before," muttered Romeo.
She hated talking about her dad. Her childhood was anything but normal.
"Timber, you're going to have to talk to me. Do you know what I'm saying?"
"Don't panic, right?" she whispered.
She put her foot on the peg, but she could already see she'd never get her leg up and over the seat, while wearing her skirt.
"Hitch the skirt up, doll. No one will see anything," he said.
She stilled, standing on the peg with her bare knee on the back of the seat. The skirt wasn't made to go up any higher. She might as well take it off. Except, without access to a laundry facility at the motel, she was running low on outfits. Today, she'd gone naked under the skirt because no matter how desperate she was, she would never wear a pair of panties two days in a row.
"Maybe I can go inside and change outfits." She was sure there was a clean pair of jeans in her bag.
"Nah, you're fine. Hitch it up and scoot close. Nobody is going to see anything." He turned and faced forward.
Without him looking, she exhaled and hurriedly pulled her skirt up and got on the bike awkwardly. Wrapping her arms around him, she was surprised to find that he was right. Nobody could see between her legs because Romeo filled the space.
Her chest and neck warmed. To make matters worse, she'd shaved her pussy last night. The vibrations of the bike. The roughness of Romeo's jeans. The intimacy. It all made her lightheaded.
The motorcycle moved. She held on tighter. Instead of leaving, Romeo looped around the diner, then the motel, leaning the Harley this way and that way until she started to get car...bike sick.
Then, he rode away from Killere Truck Stop and entered traffic. It was a much smoother ride out on the road, even though they were going faster. Now she could see the laps he'd made around the buildings were for her to get used to riding on the back of the seat.