Riding Danger Read Online Free Page B

in jail, and there was no sense in trying to talk to them anymore.
     
    Felicity knew that was why he spent so much time talking to her. She reminded him of his daughter. He even had a faded old photograph of his daughter that he kept around, and she had seen it. They did look sort of look a little alike — they both had blonde hair and blue eyes and were built nearly the same way.
     
    Blaine took off and she followed him. Felicity knew she was being silly, she should not be following him at all. Where is he going? Her curiosity was getting the best of her, and that was also something she wasn’t used to.
     
    What if he sees me? What would I say to him? I’m sorry, I just decided to follow you around town because I saw you talking to another girl and I wanted to know why you can talk to her and not me?
     
    It was totally ridiculous. I should just turn around and go home. So haven’t I? She didn’t want to.
     

 
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Blaine saw her in his mirrors. His heartbeat sped up a little, and he wondered what she was doing out and about. There was a small ice cream stand to the right, and he pulled over to it, thinking he would just get a cone and maybe watch her ride past.
     
    Instead, she pulled in beside him. The top of her Mustang convertible was down, and her hair was blown all over the place. Most girls would’ve been fussing with it, trying to get it out of their face, so they could make sure he got the full effect of their eyes or lips.
     
    “Oh, look! We both seem to have wanted ice cream at the same time.” Felicity smiled at him, wondering if he could tell that she was lying. She had absolutely no interest in ice cream, at least not right then.
     
    “Yeah, I guess so.”
     
    Felicity eyed the bike, wondering if he knew it had belonged to George. Before she could ask him that he asked, “What kind are you getting?”
     
    She looked at him blankly. What kind of what? Does he think I’m getting my own motorcycle?
     
    She realized that he meant ice cream, and her face turned scarlet. Felicity was not a good liar, mostly because she didn’t practice at it. “Oh, butter pecan probably. It’s one of my favorites. How about you?”
     
    “I like butter pecan.”
     
    “I guess you don’t get much of it in jail.” Now, why did I say that? It sounds like I’m rubbing it in that he’d been locked up! “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I guess there’s really no good way to say that? I’m sorry, sometimes my mouth just runs right off on me.”
     
    And the girl he had just left was supposed to get a serious beat down for that very thing. Felicity can excuse hers with words in a flutter of her hands but that girl had to pay for her carelessness with a pound of flesh, or at least she was supposed to. She wasn’t out driving around in a fancy car and stopping for ice cream. She was back on the corner trying to find some guy that would pick her up and fuck her, so she could get a room for the night.
     
    Blaine knew it was irrational. This girl was not her father, and what her father did was not her fault. She didn’t even know what her father did. None of that mattered, at that moment he wanted nothing more than to scream at her to take a good look around herself. Her ice cream was being paid for by some young kid who had just given the money that was supposed to pay for her protection to her mother to keep her even younger sister off the streets.
     
    It was a hard world. Blaine had always known that. Growing up in a rough neighborhood with a mother who was absent and a father who split his time between the drunk tank and a neighborhood bar had given him first-hand knowledge of that fact.
     
    “Enjoy your ice cream.” He cranked the bike back up, enjoying the feeling of the powerful machine below his body. He squealed out of the lot, leaving her there wondering just what she had done wrong.
     
    When Felicity got home, she found her father in the informal living room, his