“She doesn’t blame you.”
“Of course she doesn’t. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t my fault. I should have protected her better.”
And if AJ hadn’t turned tail and run out of town to escape the miserable existence of his life, a lot of things would have been different. And maybe he’d have still been here to protect Teresa. Guilt weighed heavily on him, too. “Teresa’s a strong woman.”
“She’s doing okay. But I still hate leaving her alone. She likes living in our parents’ house by herself, craves her independence, refuses to let the rape change who she is.”
“Good for her.”
“But it did change her, AJ. As much as she tries to pretend it didn’t, it changed who she is. There’s a light that used to shine in her eyes that isn’t there. And her fear of men and relationships—”
“Yeah, I’ve caught a glimpse of that.”
Joey’s hands clenched into fists, and he turned away to face the window again, but not before AJ caught the tears brimming in his friend’s eyes. “If I ever find out who did this to her, I’m going to rain down hurt on them like the fires of hell.”
“I’ll help you.”
PAX WASN’T SURE WHY HE’D JUMPED ON THE IDEA OF TAKING Teresa to Sturgis, but she seemed determined to go and no way in hell was he going to let her go alone. AJ argued that it was a bad idea for her to go at all, but Pax figured she was going to be too stubborn to let someone else deal with it. It was important to her to find this guy and save her brother, and she wasn’t patient enough to let the cops do it.
Though he couldn’t blame her, since the local police seemed to think they already had their man and would probably be slow about gathering any additional evidence or suspects, even minus a murder weapon. That he didn’t understand, but then he was always pretty thorough about everything, no stone left unturned and all that. How they thought they could convict Joey based on blood evidence on his clothes alone made no sense. Sure, there had been animosity between Joey and Larks, but that wasn’t enough. And the Fists as eyewitnesses? Come on. The police needed to be hunting and hunting hard for the murder weapon. And if they weren’t, then Pax agreed with Teresa—they’d go find the actual guy who did the deed, and hopefully he’d have the knife on him, especially if it was a one-of-a-kind. Guys who had knives custom made for them didn’t ditch them in a Dumpster. Guys tended to be sentimental about their weaponry anyway, but especially one-of-a-kind weapons, which were definitely keepers.
They lucked out because General Lee had his own place in Sturgis. He usually went up there for the annual rally, but this year he was stuck on an assignment and couldn’t make it. One phone call and Pax had secured the property for them, plus filled General Lee in on what was going on with Teresa and her brother. General Lee’s only advice was to lie low and not blow their covers unless absolutely necessary. The entire Wild Riders organization operated under security and stealth. They didn’t exactly flash their badges on a regular basis, and General Lee hadn’t been happy AJ and Pax had done so in order to walk into a murder scene. Pax got that, understood the ramifications of too many people knowing about a secret organization that wasn’t even supposed to exist. He promised the general they’d keep it low-key in Sturgis.
Which didn’t mean they wouldn’t be locked and loaded.
They packed up early that morning, the sun still nothing more than a glint of gray light over the horizon as they took off. Teresa climbed on the back of Pax’s bike again. He liked having her back there, liked feeling her thighs sliding alongside his, the press of her br**sts against his back when she leaned forward. AJ didn’t say a word or look like he was unhappy about it. Then again, sharing a woman was normal for them, so jealousy had never been an issue before.
Sharing Teresa—a woman AJ had a past with—that might be something different.
But they weren’t really sharing her, not after finding out what had happened to her. They were protecting her. That was it. That was all there was going to be. At least for now. Teresa was going to call all the shots, and that’s the way it should be. She had to be in charge, at least of what she wanted as far as her body. As far as the investigation—Pax and AJ would have to take the lead on that since they had more experience, and he was afraid Teresa would go balls to the wall trying to clear her brother. There were better ways to get what you wanted.
The trip would have been nice if they’d taken it for any other reason, if they’d been able to take a slow and easy back-roads pace. But they weren’t on vacation any longer, so they stuck to the interstate and got to the general’s place late that same night. It was a grueling ride, but Teresa was a trooper about it, didn’t complain once about her butt being sore or how long the ride was. They stopped plenty of times for gas, meals and drinks and to stretch their legs, but she seemed just as anxious to get there as Pax and AJ were. It probably helped that she swapped, periodically riding on AJ’s bike, then back to Pax’s, giving her ass a different seat to rest on.
Pax had to admit that the bike rally in Sturgis was one of his favorite places, so he didn’t mind combining a bit of business with pleasure. It was the be-all, end-all of bike rallys. If you were a biker, this was the place you wanted to be, along with hundreds of thousands of other bikers. How they were going to find the Fists—and the guy who stabbed Joey—was another matter, but if Teresa was determined, he’d back her up.
TERESA HELD HER BREATH AS THEY WOUND THROUGH ROADS that made the bike turn nearly on its side. It was a good thing she trusted Pax to know what he was doing, but she still held on like she might be tossed off at every curve. She wasn’t a novice at riding, but these were some steep curves, and she’d always had her own bike. Being on the back was a lot different than controlling your own destiny. When she wasn’t fearing for her life, though, she was absorbing every inch of the breathtaking scenery as they cruised into the Black Hills of South Dakota. And she only caught a glimpse of the stunning beauty of the area as they cruised down the highway. Miles of majestic forest still awaited her, and she knew Mount Rushmore was nearby, as well as a rally filled with bikers and motorcycles of every kind. Despite being here for a genuine purpose, she couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline.
Being on a bike again had been therapeutic, had forced her to face the trauma of that night at least in one way. The motorcycle hadn’t caused the rape. She could ride without fear, and the itch to climb on her own bike again began to grow in earnest. Trouble was, she had sold her old bike. It was time to start thinking of getting a new one.