More Than Miles (A Lost Kings MC Novel) (10 page)

I felt guilty about the relief that washed over me when she passed. She had taken me in when my mother tossed me out. Things were far from perfect, but I felt like the ungrateful brat she always accused me of being because I felt so free once she was gone.

The guilt I feel today is a bit different. I’ve been avoiding Murphy and I hate that. I just can’t figure out a way to reach out to him after everything we said to each other.

As if he knew he’d been on my mind, I find him outside my last class leaning against a brick wall, arms crossed over his chest. His bored expression turns hard when he spots me with my friend, Lucas.

“I’ll catch you later, Lucas.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “You’re not going to introduce me to your friend?”

I glance at Murphy’s not-so-bored-now face. “Not today.”

Lucas gives me a quick fist-bump and hurries away.

Murphy’s face completely transforms as I approach him. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I needed to see you.”

I cock my head and study him. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, I miss you.”

Is he really here to see me? Axel said that girl Serena takes classes here, too. Maybe I only ran into Murphy by accident. I almost ask, but then bite my tongue. I don’t want to argue again. I’m still ashamed of myself for being so mean to him.

We stare at each other for a few seconds before he holds his arms out. Not caring who sees, I drop my bag and fling myself against him.

“Missed you so much, Heidi,” he says against my hair. His low voice vibrates through my chest, and I swear, I feel it all the way to my toes. My hands slide down the supple leather of his cut and over the familiar flannel softness of his shirt. I wrap my arms around him, holding on tight. Burying my face against his shoulder, I breathe him in. A hint of wind, leather, and all the scents I love most.

I barely choke back a sob. “I’m sorry.”

His arms squeeze me a little tighter. “Me too.”

I want to ask what he’s sorry for when I was the one who acted so awful, but he pulls away. Under the weight of his gaze, I flinch and turn my head.

“Hey.” His hand brushes over my cheek. “Want to go for a ride?”

“You have your bike?”

“You know it.” He leans over and grabs my bag, and I follow him out to the parking lot.

“So, who was the guy?”

I’m trailing behind him, so he misses my eye-rolling headshake. “My friend Lucas. He’s dating my friend Penny. Remember her?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I remember Penny.”

I don’t ask any follow-ups to
that
. He stops at my car. Naturally, he’s parked right next to it.

“How did you know? And how’d you know where my class was?”

His mouth slides into a familiar half-smirk. “I know how to find you.”

Some girls might consider that stalkerish. I like that I matter to him.

I unlock my car and he tosses my bag in the backseat. “Car running okay? You need anything?” he asks as he casually leans in and pops the hood.

“Did you really come here to check my oil?”

“No. But since I’m here, I might as well.”

When he’s certain my car is in perfect order, I lock it up. “You putting a lot of miles on it?”

I don’t want to tell him that on nights when I know Marcel won’t be home, I usually stay at Axel’s, which has cut down on my mileage a lot.

“Not too bad.”

“You got a jacket in there?”

“You know I do.” He and my brother had lectured me endlessly about keeping spare stuff in my car “just in case.” So, in addition to the usual tire-changing supplies, jumper cables, an empty gas can, and duct tape, my car is equipped with a spare jacket, gloves, extra sneakers, a blanket, and other assorted items.

Once I’m suited up, he hands over a helmet. A surge of guilt pulses over me as I wrap my arms around him. He’s not my boyfriend. I shouldn’t be on the back of his bike.

But it’s
Blake.

I didn’t bother to ask where we’re going, and it doesn’t matter. I just enjoy the ride. Axel’s working late so we didn’t have plans tonight. Part of me wonders if Blake knew that, too.

Maybe twenty minutes into our ride, I pick my head up and actually take notice of where we’re going. If I had to guess, Fletcher Park.

My ears pop as we climb higher into the mountains. He slows the bike as we enter the park, always aware of cops who wait right after the big Fletcher Park sign to pull over speeders.

“Thank you for parking on this side,” I say as I shake out my hair and hand over my helmet.

“I remember, b—Heidi.”

Warmth flickers in my chest. Blake’s trying. Remembering at the last second not to call me Bug. Remembering how much the overlook side of the park freaks me out, ever since I saw one of my classmates in fourth grade fall over the side. I want to hug him again.

I think the hug takes him by surprise. He runs his hand over my head and down my hair. “You okay, Heidi?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna go for a hike or stay here?”

“Hike.”

He chuckles when I don’t let go right away. Finally, he takes my hand and leads me up the trail that will take us into the woods and to the bridge that stretches over the waterfalls.

“Did you have a good day in school?”

“It was okay.”

“Learn anything useful?” he asks. “You still happy there?”

I know Blake had been hoping I’d go to another college. One Axel didn’t attend, so I take my time answering.

“Yes. I met with my adviser to talk about an internship next summer.”

“Already?”

“Well, yeah. It’s a two-year program. I need the experience some time.”

“That’s scary. I don’t know if I’d want you poking at me—”

“I’m not drawing blood, you goof.”

He chuckles, not insulted. “I’m just messin’ with you.”

“How’s everything in motorcycle and stripper land?”

He chokes on a laugh. “Okay.” After a few seconds, he clarifies. “You know I spend more time helping Wrath over at Furious than I do at CB these days, right?”

“No. I didn’t know that. How come?”

His shoulders lift, jerking my hand, reminding me that we’re still holding hands.

“His other trainer’s been out, so he needed the help.”

“Oh. Is he paying you, or making you work for free?”

“We worked something out,” he says with a smile.

“So, if I stop by are you going to teach me some cool self-defense moves?”

His smile fades. “Sure. You think you need ‘em?”

“Doesn’t every girl?”

Instead of laughing, my question seems to bother him. “I’d bury anyone who hurt you, Heidi. You know that, right?”

“Even you?”

He stops and turns to face me. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I never meant to.”

My chest squeezes. Once I’d calmed down, I’d thought over his words endlessly. His admission that he cared about me the same way I cared about him. It helped finally twist my way of thinking and understand his actions a little more. “I know.”

He takes my other hand and rolls his lips as if he’s not sure he should say what he wants to. “So, where’s this internship going to be?”

I don’t think that’s what he planned to say. “Probably Empire Med.”

“Wow.”

“Don’t get too excited. I’ll probably just be watching and taking notes.”

“Yeah. Still. It’s—I’m proud of you. Knew you were smart from the time you were little.”

“You did?”

“Hell yeah. You couldn’t wait to go to school. You loved being there. You were the only kid I ever knew who was sad when she had to leave.”

I chuckle, because he’s right. “True. But that’s because home sucked.”

“I hated when you and Marcel moved out to your Grams’s.” His voice turns raw and he glances away. “Used to have a bitch of a time hitching a ride out there.”

“What’s wrong, Blake?”

He flashes a quick smile. “Nothin’. I—that money I told you I was saving for college for you. It’s not…it wasn’t ‘cause I expected anything from you. You remember hanging around the old clubhouse when it was next to CB? Lots of those girls were dancing to pay for school, and your brother and I never wanted that for you. That’s all.”

My breath catches, throat tightening so I can’t get out a response. Hot tears bubble up and I blink to clear them. “Blake,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry I ever—” Shame slides over my skin and I pull my hands out of his grasp.

“Hey,” he says, pulling me back in. “I didn’t tell you to upset you. I just wanted you to understand.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why me?”

“‘Cause you’re one of my favorite people in the whole world.”

I mean it, too. Heidi and her brother are the most important people in my life. My first true family, before the club. She’s a part of me, no different from the blood running through my veins.

“Hey.” I take one of her hands again. “Let’s keep walking.”

We trudge up the rough trail in silence. The sound of water rushing on our left intensifies the farther we go.

“We’re close to the falls,” Heidi says in a low voice.

Trees break and the falls are in front of us.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful.” Heidi rushes forward, dragging me along.

“Careful, Heidi.”

She tugs her hand out of my grasp. “I’m okay.” She must have pulled harder than I realized, because she pitches forward, then tips right over the ledge.

“Jesus!” I’m flying through the air, landing on the ground hard, with her arm in my grasp.

“Blake!” The fear in her voice makes me forget the wind just got knocked out of me. I’m strong. No question. I spend plenty of time lifting weights, boxing, and strength training. None of it prepared me to hold a hundred and twenty pounds of scared teenage girl over the side of a ledge with one hand.

“Stop moving, Heidi,” I shout as calmly as I can given the circumstances. “Can you get a foothold?”

“Yes.” Her scared voice reverberates through me.

My wrist feels like it’s about to snap. But her frantic movements stop enough for me to inch forward. Peering over the ledge, I find her balancing on the tiniest stone jutting out like some ballerina-mountain-goat hybrid. Shit.

I swing my other arm over. “Grab my other hand.”

She’s clutching a tuft of grass growing out of the side of the ledge. “I’m scared to let go.”

“Honey, I’m stronger than that bunch of weeds you got there.” As I say it, the patch tears loose. She lets out a short scream and grabs my outstretched hand.

“I gotcha. Hang on to me and climb up. I’ll pull you back.”

She whimpers but starts climbing while I inch back, scraping the shit out of my stomach and the undersides of my arms in the process. When her head and shoulders clear the ledge, I get a burst of energy and pull her up and over. She lands on me, wrapping her arms around my neck, crying against my shirt.

“Shh, you’re okay. I got you.”

She keeps shaking and crying.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Oh, sure. Now there’s a park ranger.

I crane my neck, peering up at the park cop. “My girl almost went over the side. How is there no fence there?”

He ignores my question. “Need me to call an ambulance?”

Heidi’s head snaps up. “No. We’re fine.”

He studies her for a minute before addressing me. “Come down to the guard shack and you can file an incident report.”

Yeah, I’ll get right on that.

I help Heidi stand and brush the dirt off her. When I glance up, Officer Useless is already half-way down the trail. “Big help,” I grumble. “You okay?”

“Your arms. You’re bleeding.”

I don’t feel the sting until I lift my arms and see what she’s talking about. “Fuck.” I’m scraped to shit and have all sorts of pebbles digging into my skin.

“We need to clean you up so you don’t get an infection.”

“I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

“You can’t ride like that.”

“I’m fine,” I repeat, taking her hand.

At my bike, she throws her arms around me. “Thank you.”

“For what? Almost gettin’ you killed?” I’m so pissed with myself. I wanted to do something nice and instead she almost got hurt.

“No. For being strong enough to pull me up.”

I chuckle. “I may not have speed, but I’m strong.”

“You’ve got quick reflexes to catch me like that.” She hugs me again and not wanting to get blood and dirt all over her, I just stand there with my arms out. “Are you mad at me?” she murmurs against my shirt.

“No, honey.”

She pulls back and looks me over. Her hand reaches out and tugs my shirt up. “What are you doing?”

“You’re bleeding.” I glance down and find a few spots of blood that seeped through my shirt.

“I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait. There’s a first aid station—”

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then let’s go. I’ll get patched up at the clubhouse.”

She opens her mouth to argue some more, but I thrust her helmet into her hands and strap mine on.

At the clubhouse, she follows me into the kitchen, where I grab the first aid kit.

“Let me do it?” she asks. “I’m a medical professional, remember?” she teases in a shaky voice. I get the feeling she needs to do this to calm herself down as much as she needs to patch me up.