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at me, I wondered in passing if my helmet was bulletproof.
    I jerked the steering right, then left, making an erratic path towards him. Unpredictable moving targets are harder to hit . At the last moment of my approach, when I could see the whites of his eyes, he tried to dive out of my way.
    He was too slow. The front tire clipped his ass mid-dive and sent him sprawling. The gun flew from his hands and slid beneath the cars.
    I wasted no time. I jumped from the bike and tried to ease its fall, but, it fell. Nomad will have a fit .
    Removing my helmet as I ran, I reached the bald guy before he could scramble to his feet, dazed as he was by the fall.
    I swung and slammed my helmet against the back of his head. He fell forward again with a howl. "Fucking bitch!"
    Then, Nomad was towering above him, a gun in each hand. The man clamped his mouth shut and showed his palms as he sat up.
    "That's right," Nomad said, "Fight's over. She got you." He extended one of the guns toward me. I shook my head, but I took it when he glared. "She's keeping your gun. You're lucky we don't burn this place down."
    I was buzzing all over with adrenaline, but again kept a tight reign on myself. Now was not the time to whoop and holler with our victory, or to grab and kiss Nomad, who looked darkly sexy when he was so angry. "Where's Whitney?" I asked. I held the weapon away from me, like a dead rat.
    "Tuck that away," he growled. I shoved it into the back of my pants the way the other guys did. "I told you to stay where you were."
    "Did I save your ass, or did I save your ass?" He scowled. "Is she okay?"
    He practically knocked me aside as he strode towards his bike. "See for yourself."
    I found her standing above the prone figure of the bearded man. Anchor was on his knees, binding the guy's hands.
    "We're not killing anybody!" he insisted.
    I never got to find out if she was arguing for or against killing the guy. She spotted me and cried out "Lily!" Then crushed me in a big hug. "What on earth are you doing out here? Did you seriously ride down that guy?"
    I laughed. "I did. Are you okay?"
    "Yeah. I thought I was done for, but they shot John here in the knee." She sighed. "Guess I'm heading home. I never got very far."
    I mumbled, "I haven't yet, either."
    Nomad wheeled his bike over, grimacing the whole way. Oh, no, I've hurt the bike .
    "Is it okay?" I asked timidly. He glared. His green eyes were cold. They held none of the passion we'd shared anymore, none of the affection I'd come to crave. An icy feeling washed over me. The fear I hadn't felt when I'd rushed into action came flooding back now, and I shivered and rubbed my arms. He's really angry.
    I may have saved the day, but I'd destroyed whatever had grown between us.
     
    ---
     
    The sun was rising when I rode to the motel on the back of Anchor's bike. Whitney rode with Nomad. He made me wait outside while he gathered our things from the room - it wouldn't be wise to stay in town any longer.
    I shifted in uncomfortably on the seat. My ass still stung something fierce. It felt like such a long time ago now, it seemed like it should have healed, but in reality it had been less than a day since he'd bent me over his knee. Less than a day to totally fall for him, surrender to him, and then fuck it up completely.
    It was a long drive back home. It had seemed so much shorter when I’d ridden out with Nomad - we left my apartment in the late afternoon and stopped just after sundown. We couldn't have been in the road for more than four or five hours, and the time flew by. But I was full of excitement then - fear, yes, but I was embarking on a new journey, freeing myself from my old life, and riding with a handsome older man who maybe, just maybe, might think I was pretty.
    Now, I was filled with dread.
    I'll pack a few more of my things and catch a bus instead . There was no way Nomad would want me to ride with him now. Not after I'd driven and damaged his bike. It was an act of blasphemy. Men