Grimm Retribution (Book 1) The Grimm Dragons M.C. Series

Chapter Two-Abby

Hello, Lovelies, 

I hope everyone is having a great day!  Thank you for reading Grimm Retribution!  It means so much to me that you take the time out to read my books.  

News: Sparked is still in editing.   I know it's taking a while but I want it to be right.  I want to thank you for your patience.  

I do hope you enjoy this chapter.  If you do, please turn that star orange.  Comments are appreciated.  If you have any questions, comment or send me a message. 

-XXXX Amanda 

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I had hoped that we were going to be riding to wherever he lived in a car or a truck but as we moved across the parking lot of the clubhouse all hopes of that faded when he stopped in front of a huge blood-red motorcycle. He pulled his keys from his pocket stopping to unlock and open a saddlebag and slid the books inside before crouching down. His hand moved near the wheel, but I couldn't see what he was doing before he straightened.

"Hop on," he said as he slung his leg over the machine. He opened a little door beneath the speedometer, turning the key. When nothing happened, I almost sank with relief because I assumed that meant the bike had broken down. He closed the little door and then turned it and I realized it was a switch. I frowned as he gripped the handlebars. A click echoed through the air. I jumped feeling the ground vibrate beneath my feet as the rumble of the machine in front of me roared to life. Swallowing hard, my mind offered up every way I could possibly die on that machine. My mother had always called them death traps.

"N-No," I said, taking a step back terrified of the thing and the man who was sitting on it, but he caught me by the wrist and pulled me toward him causing my heart to leap in my chest. A grin crossed his face dazzling me so thoroughly that I had to blink to diminish it. He was handsome but when he smiled he was downright beautiful. I shook the thought away realizing I shouldn't be thinking such things when the man in front of me was one of the men who had held my father captive overnight and now held me in his place for god knew how long.

"Abby," he said, his voice rumbling low as he raised his brows. His green eyes held mine, "I promise I will not let anything hurt you. You have no choice but to trust me on that. If John sees you arguing with me, he'll be pissed. I can't protect you from his temper here. Get on the bike."

I nodded because he was right. If I was going to save my father, I had to do as I was told. I swallowed and then, raised my chin, forcing myself to be brave and slung my leg over the bike behind him. He grabbed my leg beneath the knee and placed it on the foothold causing me to take in a sharp breath. His touch was electric, causing my heart to race. With the bike rumbling between my legs, my body was so sensitive that a moan almost escaped my throat, "Leave your feet on the pegs," he said releasing my leg to grab my wrists to pull my arms around his muscled torso. I pressed my chest into his back. His jaw clenched as he spoke through his teeth, "Hold onto me and don't let go."

I curled my hands into his leather vest, placing my cheek against his back and closed my eyes as we raced away from the clubhouse. His vest smelled of sandalwood and leather and I focused on that as the wind pummeled me from all sides whipping my brown hair around my face and slapping the skin of my exposed cheek so hard it stung. I don't know how much time passed before the motorcycle came to a stop. My eyes were still squeezed closed as the rumble beneath me died.

His hands closed around my wrists again, but his touch was gentle, "You can let go," he said, his voice husky and I released the death grip on his torso and opened my eyes. I had held onto him so tight that my hands were stiff. Flexing them, I could feel the dents where my nails had bit into my palms.