Page 3 of Rattlin' Bones
“Fuck,” Skel growled. “I’m gettin’ you outta here, warm and cleaned up. Then you’re gonna tell me everything.”
His tone didn’t allow any room for argument. Truth be told, I didn’t have the energy. If I wasn’t ready to pass out from this ordeal, I probably would have argued. My father once told me I should change majors in college and become a lawyer. I guessed I had the skills for it.
“Where are we going?” I asked instead of refusing his help.
“My place. It isn’t far.”
“Okay.” I needed to contact my dad and hoped it wouldn’t be a problem. He was probably sick with worry. I never stayed out this late without checking in. It wasn’t because he loved rules but because he loved me and worried about my safety with his judicial position.
Skel slipped an arm around my waist and led me toward his bike. “You ever ride before?”
Yeah. A few times. “Sure. My ex had a bike.”
He snorted. “A Harley?”
“Well, no,” I admitted.
“Then it wasn’t a bike, Sweet Girl.” Skel held onto me until I sat on his seat, then opened his saddlebags and pulled out a sweatshirt. “It’s gonna get cold, and you’re not wearin’ enough clothes. This will help.”
I nodded as he slipped it over my head, and I shoved my arms through the sleeves, noting that it was so large that it fell over my thighs and covered me even with the hoodie I had on. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, I don’t want you to fall off from all that shivering.”
I didn’t expect the teasing tone he used. “I’ll just have to snuggle you.”
He threw a leg over his seat and joined me. “Hold on tight.”
I planned on it. My arms slid around his torso, and I clenched them, wincing as I remembered the cuts. Ouch.
“Here, let me help.” Skel pulled the material of his sweatshirt over my hands as I clasped them. “That wind is gonna hurt. It’ll be brutally cold once we pick up speed.”
“But we’re not going far, right?”
“Yeah. Stay tough, Baby.”
Baby? I never had a chance to reply.
Skel’s motorcycle rumbled as he started it, the vibrations beneath us both exciting and terrifying. I knew better than to trust strangers or agree to go home with a guy I met the same night. But this was different. Skel rescued me.
He wouldn’t hurt me. If he tried, I had pepper spray in my front pocket. I managed to sneak it before Luis confiscated my purse and phone. I never had a chance to use it with my bound wrists, but if Skel turned out to be a creep, I wouldn’t hesitate.
Feeling better with a plan, I huddled into his warmth as the bike picked up speed, turned onto the road, and headed away from the Strip’s bright neon lights. Skel reached for my hands as we pulled to a stop, idling at a red light, and I wondered if he was checking my grip.
“Still too cold,” he murmured, giving my fingers a squeeze.
When the light turned green, we shot forward, moving farther from the end of town where I lived with my dad. We had a penthouse in one of the most expensive high-rises in Vegas. Since I attended UNLV, I didn’t bother with my own place. Plus, it worried my dad when I spent too much time on campus or in the dorms.
I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t the quiet neighborhood Skel turned down, or the sprawling ranch-style house that he declared was his property. The open layout and large windows were casual and inviting.
Skel clicked a garage door opener, and we rolled to a stop inside before he shut off the engine. I stood on shaky legs as my gaze traveled to the driveway and the barren street.
“You could run if you want, but I wouldn’t advise it. I’d only chase you down and bring you back. You’re in no condition to wander off alone.”
He was right.
“And it’s not safe,” he added.
I knew that. “I want to call my father and let him know I’m okay.”