Page 6 of Pain

Where Devil would be waiting. After hearing that I’d been sitting on the side of the road talking to the man he hated more than anyone else in the world.

Shit. I’d thought I was in trouble before. But if Devil got a hold of me now, even if I told him that I hadn’t said anything to Knight, had barely talked to him...

He’d kill me. He’d be convinced that I had ratted him out, given Knight something to hold over Devil. The guy was so fucking paranoid already, shooting people for nothing. It would only take the prospect telling him that I’d been seen with Knight to push him right over the edge.

He wouldn’t give one single damn that I was his girlfriend. He’d only see that I’d been talking to the enemy. Fuck, he’d probably accuse me of sleeping with the guy, too, even though we’d done nothing but sit on the side of the road.

I looked up at Knight, my heart suddenly hammering with absolute terror at the thought of him leaving me here. Seconds ago, I’d been suspicious of him, wondering why the hell he would have pulled over and tried to take care of me.

Now I was so scared I was going to start crying again if he stood up and left me.

His eyes narrowed on my face—did I look desperate? Scared?—and then he stood up, his glance moving over to his bike and then back to me. He shifted, cocking his head a bit, like he was trying to figure out whether I was as hurt as I appeared to be. Like he was trying to decide whether he could leave or not. He knew who I was, which meant he must also know that if he stayed, if he tried to help me more than he already had, he’d be putting himself in danger.

Why would he do that for a girl he didn’t even know? A girl that belonged to the enemy?

Shit. I couldn’t let him leave. The moment he left, I’d be a sitting duck. Just waiting for the prospect to come back, pick me up, and take me to Devil. And now I was even more injured than I had been before.

I’d never survive Devil if he got me back.

There was only one answer. Only one option. I didn’t like it, but that didn’t change the facts.

“Please don’t leave me,” I whispered. “Please don’t leave me here for the prospect.”

His eyes closed briefly, his face sagging, and he dropped back to his knees again. “Can you ride?” he asked roughly.

“Yes.” It was a lie—maybe—but one I knew I had to tell. If I could ride, there was a chance he’d take me with him. If I said I couldn’t, he’d have no way to take me along.

He narrowed his eyes again and stared at me for a long, tense moment, during which I didn’t bother to breathe. Please believe me, please believe me, I chanted in my head. He had to believe me. Had to take me with him.

Take me and I might survive whatever he had planned.

Leave me here and I knew I’d die. Devil would never let me live.

Suddenly Knight reached out, his fingers brushing across the bruise on my cheekbone, his eyes sad. When his gaze met mine, though, it changed to furious. Enraged. So angry I thought he might actually burn me where I sat.

Then his hands moved under my arms and yanked, bringing me up and into his arms. I grunted, my shoulder screaming at the action, but tucked myself quickly into his arms, trying to breathe through the pain. Trying to stay as small as possible.

I couldn’t have him rethinking what he was doing. Not if I wanted to live through today.

Seconds later, he’d slid me onto his bike and climbed onto the seat in front of me, pulling my arms forward and wrapping them around his waist. He didn’t say anything else. Just hit the ignition and revved the engine, moving the kickstand with one jerk of his foot and then releasing the brake on the bike.

We roared away from the sidewalk before I could rethink any of it, my hands clasped in front of him and my cheek pressed against his large, muscular back, my mouth closed against the pain and my eyes shut against the thought that I’d just turned myself over Curtis “Knight” Arthur and asked him for protection against my boyfriend and the family I’d spent so many years protecting.

I didn’t know what Knight was going to do with me. But it had to better than what Devil had been doing.

It had to be.

CHAPTER 4

KNIGHT

I sent my bike peeling down the asphalt of Main Street, half of my mind on the road ahead of us and half of it on the town we needed to leave.

Though my entire mind was really caught up in who I had on the back of my bike right now.

Saraya fucking Post, in all her black-haired, red-lipped, curvy glory.

Shit.