“A turtle can run faster than you two,” she good-naturedly insulted the men in the front seat.

Jonas passed her a bottled water. “You have anything planned this weekend?”

“I have to go to a party that The Last Riders and Destructors are throwing.”

Killyama didn’t miss the look the men shared.

“The two clubs are having a party together?” Jonas was the one to ask the question they were both curious about.

“It’s not like you’re thinking. Jesus, I tell you one little secret about The Last Riders and you think all MCs are like them. The only thing the Destructors have in common with The Last Riders are motorcycles.”

“You think so?” Hammer shook his head, disbelieving.

“I know so. What else could we have in common?”

“You seriously don’t think the Destructors are doing some of the same women in their club?”

“Maybe, but at least they don’t let others fucking watch.” Killyama crushed the water bottle in her hand. “If you’re so damn interested in The Last Riders, I’m surprised you two didn’t join when you got out of the service.”

“Neither Jonas nor I needed a club. We had families to go back home to.”

“That one-room cabin isn’t a home.”

“It is to me. Besides, me and Jonas wouldn’t fit in with The Last Riders. Most of them were in the Navy; we’re Rangers. We lead the way.”

She made sure Hammer and Jonas heard her mock gagging noises as they fist bumped in the front seat.

“You were probably worried they would see the needle dicks you two are packing.”

“They would have been jealous.”

Killyama held on to the armrest as Hammer’s boasting had him swerving from taking the lane that was an exit. She needed to make sure her living will was up to date.

“Now I really want to throw up. Talking about your dicks is creeping me out.”

“You were the one who brought it up.”

“It’s not like we’re related,” Jonas spoke up. Killyama could see his grin in the dark.

“Yes, you are. You’re like honorary uncles.”

“It’s an honor?” Jonas’s grin grew wider.

“Hell yes. Well, you are. Hammer’s more like a distant cousin.”

“That’s cute, kid. Hear that, Hammer?”

“You only like him more because he bought that motorcycle for you on your sixteenth birthday and taught you how to shoot a gun. I gave you a car. I never hear you thanking me for that.”

“Believe me; I have thanked you several times, and so have my friends.” Killyama’s mind went back to the numerous times the car’s spacious back seat had been used instead of a motel room.

Hammer turned on the music, and Killyama relaxed back in her seat. She was growing tired of the drive from Knoxville to Jamestown. It would be easier to live there, but she couldn’t bring herself to cut ties with her friends. Hammer grouched about it constantly. Even Jonas was getting fed up with her excuses.

When Hammer had opened his business in Knoxville after he had left the service, he had expected her to move there, too, but she had nixed that idea. Killyama couldn’t leave her bitches behind for the job she had begged him to train her for. They needed her to watch their backs. Two of them might have husbands now, but they still needed her. Or, that was what she told herself. She refused to name the real reason she remained in Kentucky.

She hated herself for the two hours she had spent alone with Train. It had the side effect of not being able to get him out of her system.

The Last Riders should tattoo a warning label on their backs: once is not enough. Every time she was near him, he could make her body quiver in need as if she were an addict begging for a fix.

Closing her eyes, she thought back to the day she had shown up at The Last Riders for her ride. She remembered being so cocky as she leaned against her car with her arms folded, glaring at Rider as he made yet another excuse on why he couldn’t take her out on a ride that Shade had promised for saving Lily’s life.

Train had been working on one of the bikes, watching the argument with an amused expression. Inwardly, she had begun to feel humiliated that Rider obviously didn’t want to take her out. Men were intimidated by her, yet she had hoped The Last Riders were different.

Seeing Shade and Lily show up to witness Rider standing her up had made it even more embarrassing.

“Hey, girl,” Killyama had greeted Lily, not removing her glare from Rider.

Folding her arms even closer against her chest, she had decided to turn the tables on Rider. She wasn’t about to let even more people see her humiliation if she could help it.

“What’s going on?” Shade asked.

“I was supposed to give her a ride today”—Rider nodded his head sharply at Killyama—“but my bike won’t start. She thinks I’m fucking with her.”

“Babe, if you were fucking with me, I’d hope I would know it.” She grinned evilly at the furious Rider.

Rider’s face turned red. It took everything she had to keep from laughing at him. It was like taking candy from a baby.

“I meant that I wasn’t trying to get out from giving you a ride.”

“I know what you meant. Do I look stupid?”

Silence met her question.

She was dressed in leather pants and a black T-shirt that had a skull with a dagger in the eye. It read: “Come and get me.” Her makeup was dark and smoky, and her biker boots had metal spokes sticking out. She was willing to admit she was dressed like a ball buster, something that worked to her advantage. No one was stupid enough to insult her directly.

She could see Rider was becoming flustered.

Better him than me, Killyama thought to herself.

“We’ll have to make it another day. I have to order a part,” Rider hedged.

“You’ve already put me off three times. I’m tired of this shit. Forget it.” She turned around, opening her car door as she gave Shade a smirk. “The Last Riders don’t know how to keep their word. Good to know for future reference.”

“I’ll give you a ride myself,” Shade stated.

Killyama made a mental note that Shade didn’t like anyone calling out The Last Riders’ inability to keep their word.

“No offense, but I don’t ride with a man who’s got a woman at his back.”

Shade was grinding his teeth so hard it had his wife looking at him worriedly.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Train offered, setting down the tool he was holding.

This time, Killyama remained quiet, tilting her head to the side as she studied the man. The fucker knew she was trying to get them all pissed off.

Since becoming friends with Beth, she had talked to the men intermittently, so Killyama had gotten a feel for their personalities. Beth had described Rider as being funny and easygoing, which was why she had wanted to get to know him better. Beth had never mentioned Train. If she had, Killyama must have missed it, being more interested in Rider.

She took a deeper look at Train, seeing he had a dangerous edge to him. He was the kind of man you would jump off a cliff with, not caring if you were going to hit rocks or seep into a beautiful ocean of blue.

Rider’s flirtatious demeanor and good looks drew in women like a lure, whereas Train’s dark looks were somber. He didn’t need to bait the trap; he was a shark who would grab you and unwillingly pull you under. Train wasn’t like Rider. He wasn’t frightened of her, and his dark eyes gave no insight into his true personality. However, she had never run from the unknown, and she didn’t plan to start now.