“Wow,” she said over Pax’s shoulder. She’d always wanted to come to Bike Week, but had never found the time to make it. Now she saw what she’d been missing all these years. Wall-to-wall bikes and people crowded the sidewalks. Bikes were parked in the center of the street and at the curb as well as on the side streets. Thousands of them, in fact, more than she could ever hope to count. Shops were open and vendor tents were crammed in every available location. The smell of food cooking came from every corner, the loud beat of music pulsating from the open doors leading to the bars. Teresa scanned the vendor signs as they slowly rode by. Anything you wanted could be found here, from T-shirts to tattoos to bike accessories and biker clothes. And beer. Lots and lots of beer.

Though Main Street was only a few blocks long, it was packed with bikers, which made the street seem much bigger than it really was. Sturgis did a great job accommodating the masses that descended upon their tiny town every year.

They finally found an available parking place and climbed off. The sun was already beating on them and it was warmer down here, so they shed their jackets to walk around. Teresa noted immediately that AJ and Pax flanked her, one on either side as they made their way along the vendor booths.

Was it for protection or a show of possession? She wasn’t sure, but she liked it. And judging from the envious looks she got from other women as they walked past, she should consider herself one lucky woman.

If only they knew what she wasn’t doing with these guys.

Yeah . . . all those things she should be doing with them. She’d barely gotten started with AJ last night, and that had been all one-sided. As soon as she’d spotted Pax, she’d frozen up.

But what should she have done? Invited him to join in? What might have happened then?

That thought stayed with her as she scanned the crowd, looking for the Fists. As much as she’d have liked to visit every vendor tent and shop on every block, she knew that’s not what they’d come here for. She turned her attention instead to the bikers, who were just as interesting to watch as all the vendors and scenery. They came in all shapes, sizes and colors, and various states of dress . . . and undress.

Teresa’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head when she saw what some of the women wore. Or rather, didn’t wear. Some wore jeans and skimpy bikini tops, or ass-bearing shorts. Some wore no tops at all, just brightly colored Xs pasted over their nipples. Teresa was beginning to wonder if she’d stumbled into an outdoor strip club by mistake.

“Seriously?” she mumbled out loud as a woman walked by in shorts that bared the bottom half of her ass cheeks, and no top on, her boobs jiggling as she strutted across the street. “Don’t women fathom that it’s sexier to leave something to the imagination?”

AJ laughed. “It’s a free-for-all here. Some women like to let it all hang out while they’re in Sturgis.”

“Obviously.”

She glanced at both the guys to see if they were ogling the half-naked chicks that seemed to surround them. Surprisingly . . . they weren’t. Like her, they focused their attention on the bikers, no doubt doing what she was doing—scouting for the Fists.

“I can’t believe you two are passing up all this na**d female flesh.”

Pax slid his arm around her waist. “Why do we need to look at other women when we’re with you?”

She tilted her head back to stare up at him, thinking he was making a joke. He wore sunglasses, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but he wasn’t smiling. Was he serious?

He was. Wow. She had no snappy comeback for that kind of testament.

“Well. Thank you.”

AJ draped his arm around her shoulder. “Besides, there’s no better looking woman here than the one between us right now. Even fully clothed.”

She looked to AJ. “Yeah, I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”

“No. Just you.”

Dammit. If they kept this up, she was going to get serious about these two. No wonder they had no trouble wrangling women. Devastatingly good-looking and charming, too. How could any woman resist?

How could she resist?

After walking the entire Main Street, Teresa’s feet were tired and she decided all the bikers looked exactly the same. They’d begun to blend together in this mile-long blur of black leather and white T-shirts. And it was hot outside. She needed a drink. There were too damn many people in this place, and crowds and heat didn’t mix well.

“This is getting us nowhere,” she said, stopping in the middle of a crowded sidewalk.

“You look tired and thirsty,” AJ said. “Let’s go in one of the bars for a drink.”

She nearly collapsed against him in gratitude. “Great idea.”

The first bar they hit was a giant hot spot on the corner, already packed despite it being just shy of noon. Being a bar owner, Teresa knew that when it was time to party, bikers liked to drink no matter what time of day it was. They pushed through the doors and were blasted by raucous rock music and a pack of people that made Teresa envious.

Now she was beginning to feel at home. Cool air-conditioning greeted them, and they wound their way through the thick crowd, Pax leading the way. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along, AJ laying his hand at the small of her back as he took up the rear.

She was really starting to like being sandwiched between two tall, muscular men. Her own personal bodyguards. And more.

They rustled up seats at the bar and ordered drinks. Teresa wanted soda and AJ and Pax ordered beers. She soaked up the atmosphere in the huge saloon, always on the lookout for new ways to spice up her own bar.

This place was chaotic and jam-packed. Sure, they had a captive audience with it being Bike Week, but still, she liked the way it was run. The décor was vintage, right down to the scratched and worn surface of the bar top and the smell of sawdust, beer and sweat. But it was lively, the music was roaring, and even better than that, there were three bars servicing patrons. And on top of the bars were women dancing. They wore skimpy bra tops with shorter shorts and leather chaps under them, or little miniskirts with bikinis underneath. All the girls were clean and damn good-looking, which led Teresa to believe the owners knew exactly what they were doing. Put enough bars in here to fulfill the customers’ needs, put good-looking women on top to dance and draw in customers, and while the customers were ogling the women, keep the alcohol flowing with plenty of bartenders.

The music was loud, there were pool tables and video games, and even a mechanical bull. There was also a limited menu—burgers, hot dogs and sandwiches—not too much to bog down the waitstaff, but enough so your patrons wouldn’t go somewhere else when they got hungry. Teresa could hear the cash registers ka-chinging away. Her senses were on overload, and she figured she could park her butt on this bar stool, stay all day and never get bored looking at the people.

Even better was the prime location in the center of Main Street and right on a corner. She imagined a lot of people came here, and admittedly she was jealous. She loved her little bar and it got plenty of business, especially from bikers, but to have something major like this would be a dream come true.

They lingered for a while and watched people come and go, until AJ suggested they take a ride and look for the Fists.

Teresa was reluctant to leave the comfortable air-conditioned bar, but she knew they had to find the guy they’d come here looking for. She could almost forget they had an actual reason for being here and use this trip for research on how to make her bar business better.

They climbed on the bikes, and this time she rode with AJ, not wanting either of them to think she was favoring one over the other. She had no idea why she thought about that, or even if either Pax or AJ gave it a thought, but it mattered to her. Besides, she liked switching off.

And didn’t that thought get her mind whirling with all kinds of interesting ideas?

They took the slow ride down Main Street again, and Teresa kept a sharp gaze down every side street, along both sidewalks, searching for any sign of the Fists’ telltale insignias on leather.

Nothing.

Even the open roads leading into the Black Hills were filled with bikers in both directions. They were everywhere—in town and riding the hills. Her head spun trying to track the bikers flying by. How were they ever going to find the Fists?

“Where are we going?” she asked AJ.

“To the main campground.”

Teresa knew about the big campground. It was where everyone camped out and partied for the duration of the bike rally. Plus there were also live concerts every night, as well as bike exhibitions of all kinds, from stunt bikers to hill climbers to burnouts. And all the food and drink you could handle, just like on Main Street.

The campground was what used to be nothing more than a pasture, grown into a venue that now took in millions in revenue every year. Teresa had read about it, heard stories about the no-holds-barred partying that went on there. She was excited and curious as they rode underneath the infamous sign. RVs and tents stretched for miles along the dirt and grass fields, as far as Teresa could see. It was just as crowded with people here as down on Main Street.

Once they found a place to park, they climbed off, paid their entry fees so they could come and go at will from the campground and concert arenas, and started wandering around.

If there was decadence on Main Street, it was tripled here. There were no rules except to have fun, get down and dirty, and party. Loud music, the roar of thundering motorcycles kicking up dust clouds, and the cheering of crowds permeated the air. Teresa didn’t know which way to look, because there was something to gape at in each direction.

And again, bikers everywhere. It would take forever to wind their way between the RVs and tents to look for the Fists. They concentrated instead on the main arena where the entertainment and food were located.

“How would you ever expect to find someone you were looking for?” she asked, exasperated as they walked around, seemingly in circles. Spending hours on her feet was taxing, the heat had grown to be unbearable, the crowds were packing in like sardines, and all she wanted to do was jump in the swimming hole where people were enjoying cooling off on this blistering hot afternoon.

“Needle in a haystack, babe,” Pax said. “No one said this was going to be easy.”

“I think we warned you about this,” AJ added.

She blew hair out of her face, sweat trickling between her breasts. She had too many clothes on; she was hot, tired and sweaty. And cranky. “I know. There’s got to be a better way. We’re getting nowhere doing it like this. For all we know they could have been here while we were down on Main Street, and now they’re down on Main Street while we’re here.”

AJ nodded. “Could be.”

“Come on,” Pax said, linking his fingers with hers. “Let’s go for a ride in the hills where it’s cooler.”

She groaned in relief. “That sounds like a slice of heaven.”

The ride cleared her head and cooled her body down until she could breathe again. She leaned back and simply enjoyed the beauty of the Black Hills—the way the road wound one way then the other, the tall trees that loomed above them, the scent of pine and earth, the imposing rock formations that had stood the test of time and the elements and now showed off their majestic beauty as they zipped by.

She could live here. Easily. Oh, she’d miss her brother and all her friends, but this place was beautiful. So green and untouched. Other than it being packed full of bikers for a couple weeks out of the year, there was a raw and untamed part she longed for, a solitude and fresh start where no one knew her and her history. This place was new, and the scent of something clean and unmarred refreshed her spirit. Maybe she’d lived in the city too long. Maybe it was time to consider making some changes to her life.

Several changes.

She felt renewed as she sucked in great gulps of pure oxygen, the pungent smell of the earth invigorating her.

For the past five years she’d let the world slip by, had stayed where she was safe, had closed the rest of the world out and not let anyone in that could potentially hurt her.

She used to be the kind of person who took chances, who loved adventure, who could take off at the drop of a hat, climb on her bike and go where the wind took her.

After the rape she’d sold her bike, rarely went anywhere but work or to her house—a carefully mapped out journey that she knew was safe. Her circle of friends had become her trusted network of people she’d known her whole life. No one new entered the picture, not without being vetted by Joey or her best friends.

She was always afraid. She hated being afraid.

She’d stopped living. She’d let the bad guys win. They still controlled her life. They still touched her. Maybe not physically, but they still lived inside her, eating away at her very soul, at who she used to be.

How could she have let that happen?

It had to stop. It had to stop now. She had a right to live, to be happy and wild and adventurous like she used to be. The rape hadn’t changed her—she had changed herself. She refused to do it. Not anymore. Five years was damn long enough.

The old Teresa was coming back.

Starting now.

TWELVE

SOMETHING HAD GOTTEN INTO TERESA, AND AJ COULDN’T FIGURE out what the hell it was.

But there was a difference. Something raw and angry, a telltale edge about her that hadn’t been there before.

The weather had shifted from cool to hot, and maybe that made her cranky, though he didn’t think it had been just the weather. After they got back from the ride in the hills, she announced she wanted to go to the Harley dealership and buy a new bike.

She’d bought a Harley. Just. Like. That.

He knew she loved to ride, had loved having her own bike before she’d been attacked. He didn’t presume to understand all the psychological shit she’d gone through after, other than that she’d told him she’d gotten rid of her bike and hadn’t ridden since.