Dating over the age of 30 is complicated. Any one who is still unmarried (or divorced) is carrying baggage. They're fully formed adults who are less likely to throw caution to the wind and dive into a relationship at whatever cost—it's gotten them burned before. (Speaking from experience here? Surely not…) The idea that passionate, romantic love matters more than everything is something you just stop believing. It matters, but other things matter more.

Incidentally, what with life being crazy as balls lately, I'm spending a lot of time in a different part of the country than I generally live. There are honest-to-god bikers all over the place. I'll walk through a department store and see a dude in a cut looking at couches with his wife. Sort of cool, but at the same time, most bikers are not sexy. Actually, let me rephrase that. I've seen one around who remotely qualifies as attractive, and that's mostly my fetish for ink talking. The rest look like Bobby… after a week without a shower. None of them are young. Sorry guys.

Song for the chapter is Orgy's tune Make Up Your Mind.

-B.

Tig lay back on the picnic bench and breathed deep from his cigarette. They'd rolled back into Teller-Morrow an hour ago, and the mood was weird. Everyone was tired from the early wake-up, ragged from party the night before, and hyped from easily overcoming the scum who jumped Anne. On top of that, they were stepping around Tig like he might snap. Strangely, Tig wasn't in the black headspace they all expected. He felt icy calm. He couldn't completely convince himself that Anne was gone. It was only a matter of time till she realized the huge mistake she'd made and came running back. Only a matter of time. He knew that if he'd kept his damn mouth shut in the motel, she'd be with him right now. Sending her off with Happy was a "fuck you," but she was tougher than that. She knew he wanted her. She knew she needed him. She'd be back.

Tig rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked up at the sky. It wasn't threatening rain, but the late-afternoon sun was obscured by sluggishly moving clouds. Not a good California day.

He heard the clubhouse door open and footsteps approach. And he ignored it. The bench creaked with the weight of another man sitting next to him. Tig turned his head and acknowledged Half-Sack's presence. For a long time, the two sat silently.

When Half-Sack broke the silence, it was to say, "I'm going to tell you something about Anne. And you're going to shut up and listen to it."

"You giving orders now, boy?" Tig didn't have the energy to get his hackles up, but the intensity of Half-Sack's command was funny.

Refusing to get sidetracked, Sack continued. "When she was a teenager, she ran away from home. Same way Stahl did. She never told me what it was like living in the street, but I know that she did it for at least a year."

Tig didn't want to keep listening, but he didn't want to move. If he let Sack say his bit, then maybe the kid would piss off and leave him alone. "So?"

"It was a social worker who got her sorted out, off the street and in school. The same social worker she married."

"The fuck do you figure I want to know this for?"

"He never let her forget that she was a rescue. Every time she did something he didn't like, he told her she was acting like some screwed up street kid again."

"That's a real sad story."

"Are you listening? Last time she wound up with a guy who rescued her, it went bad on her."

Tig paused. "You think that's why she bailed on us."

"Yeah, I do."

"If she's that screwed up over some guy from years ago, then I'm better off clear of the crazy bitch and her drama." Tig shifted his weight, suddenly uncomfortable. Maybe all of this mess was a mistake.

Half-Sack ignored him. "She forgot her phone when she left."

"What?"

"In the motel. Juice picked it up off the floor. When he figured out it was hers, he gave it to me."

Sack set the cell down on the table next to Tig's head. "She ain't exactly a master of secrecy. The voice-mail code is four zeroes. Took Juice about two minutes to guess it."

With that, the prospect stood and tossed his half-smoked cigarette aside. "I think she belongs here. I want to tell her to come back, but I need you to not freak out if she does."

"Since when do you need a woman around?"

"You're not the only one who wants to protect her, man. I worked out my shit with her. I think you should too." After Sack had left, Tig lay there awhile longer, not looking at the phone.

"Fuuuuck." Tig muttered. He slammed his hand into the bench, but it didn't make him feel better. He picked up the phone and flipped it open. There were several unread text messages.

The first was from someone named Lisa. It just read, "Where the heck are you?" The second was from a number Anne had labeled, "Jackass." Well, that'd probably be the ex-husband. It said, "You can't keep running away. Call me when you're ready to come back."

Jackass sounded like an appropriate name. He scrolled through more messages. They were similar. The he went into the voice mail.

"Annie..." It was a man's voice. "Is it me you're running away from? Talk to me. You don't owe me a second chance, but you do owe me an explanation."

The last message was the voice of an older woman. It made Tig smile. "Hey Annika, just wanted to let you know we miss you. The kids are giving your replacement a miserable time, but between you and me, she kind of deserves it. Someone keyed her car, and we're pretty sure it wasn't a teacher. I dropped by the centre, but they said you were still in leave. Let's have coffee when you're back."

Clearly, Anne wasn't telling people where she was or what she was doing in California. He wondered how many of them even knew she'd had a sister. Tig looked down at the cell phone in his hand. He really believed Anne was coming back. Was that stupidity?

Tig's own phone rang. He looked at the call display and cringed. It was Happy.

"What now?"

"Chill, nothing big. Just thought you should know I got your girl to the airport in Oakland."

"She ain't my girl." Tig said automatically. "And why the fuck did you take her back to Oakland? LAX was closer to the motel."

"Lots of reasons." Happy said evasively. Tig shook his head. The idea of the nomad trying to manipulate Anne into staying was both horrifying and hilarious. "There's a storm in Frisco right now and it's fucked up all the airports. She gave me the slip in the crowd." Happy chuckled. "Well, I let her think she did, anyway."

"So where is she now?"

"Airport bar. She hasn't moved in half an hour and she's already three drinks down. Don't look like she's in a big hurry to get back to Calgary." Tig said nothing. Happy laughed again. "Not gonna lie man, I took at run at her after we left. Shot me down cold, brother. She can go wherever she fucking wants, but she's yours for good."

"Gee, thanks for doing a brother a solid."

"Hey, she's a killer who looks like a librarian. That's hot. Can't blame me for wanting to hit that."

"Just so we're clear on this, I'm going to punch you later."

"Counting on it." Happy hung up, leaving Tig feeling like he'd just been spun in circles.

Things weren't any clearer than they'd been before. Well, he knew where Anne was, but he couldn't just go get her. She had to want to come back. Tig cursed. Anne owned him. God damn it. Damn it to hell. He needed a drink.

The call came before he poured the second shot of whiskey. The call display said it was a public phone. He took a deep breath and let the phone ring while he walked back outside. He didn't want anyone overhearing this conversation, no matter how it went. He sat, stretched his legs out, and answered the phone with a casual, "Yeah?"

"Tig."

He'd never heard Anne's voice over the phone before. She sounded very young. Tig winced. He wanted to rake her over coals for bailing on him, make her miserable about it, but the vulnerability in her voice disarmed him. At least he still had sarcasm. "What's the matter? Get kidnapped again?"

After several breaths, she said, "I can't do it. I can't get on the plane. Can't leave."

He felt vindicated. "Few hours ago, you couldn't stay."

"I'm good at running. Really goddamn good. Any time I even think I'm putting down roots somewhere, I rip the damn things up." Anne spoke quickly, trailing off in a breath that wasn't quite a sob. "But I can't go."

"You got a pretty good start this morning. I'm supposed to just forget that you bailed?

Anne rallied. He could imagine her, hands clenched, chin lifted. "Tell me you want me gone. If you tell me you never want to see me again, I'll go." When Tig was silent, she pressed. "Say it!"

"You asking for my permission to leave?"

"No. I'm asking you to tell me there's no reason to stay. I'm a coward, Tig. I run. So if you tell me I'm alone, I'll get on the plane."

"First, tell me something."

"Anything." There was no hesitation.

"You really want to be with me, or do you just feel scared without me?"

Anne actually laughed. It was the kind of laugh that sounded half like crying, but it was more like the spirit he knew. "I feel scared that I'm too broken to keep the one guy I give a shit about. I feel scared that if I walk away now, I'm never gonna stop running away from the good things in my life. But I'm not afraid of getting kidnapped again. I'll shoot the balls off anyone who tries all on my own."

Tig knew he'd lost. Where the hell else was he going to find a girl like her? "Tell me where you are."

An hour later, he found Anne in the airport bar. She looked forlorn, alone at a table with her hands wrapped around a glass. The entire airport was packed with delayed travelers, and the bar area was so busy that she was hard to spot at first. Despite the chaos around her, Anne sat with her head bowed and her hair hiding her face. Tig watched her from across the room. She was a picture of unhappiness. He was about to approach when a man in a business suit, walking with the loose stride of someone several drinks in, sauntered over to Anne. To guys like that, Anne looked like an easy target.

The man oozed into the seat across from Anne. Her head lifted, swift and alert. Far to the side, Tig couldn't the look she leveled on the stranger. Nor could he hear what she said to him. He did see the man stand abruptly, call Anne a bitch, and stride back to the bar. She took a long swallow from her drink and bowed her head again.

Tig smiled. Anne was a wolf. Even as an emotional wreck, she was still tough as hell. And his all the way through. She looked like prey, but she fought like a predator.

She looked up as he approached, somehow knowing it was him. The look on her face was pure, sweet, relief. She stood, her hands showing her anxiety. Tig had intended to drag it out and make her feel as miserable as he'd felt when he woke up alone, but he didn't. His hands were on her before he consciously made the decision to kiss her. She melted into him, yielding her mouth and body. When he pulled back to breathe, she leaned into him, her face hidden against his neck. He breathed the soft sweetness of her hair and ran his hand down her back. She hadn't left... She couldn't leave. Anne was his.

Tig touched her face. She tried to keep her head down, but he made her lift her chin to look up at him. She complied, reluctantly, as if afraid of what she'd see in his face.

"Never run out on me like that again. No notes. If you're freaking out, talk to me."

He brushed her hair off her face. She winced. He looked more closely and saw the bruises she was hiding under the artless fall of brown curls. They looked worse than they had in the motel.

"Christ, how hurt are you?"

"Just a little bruised."

He turned her head to the side and lightly touched the bruises on her cheek. She let him, so compliant that he couldn't help but think of other things he could get her to do when they were alone. Then Tig thought about the things that had already happened to her today. "The guys that took you..."

Her green eyes met his and held them. "You came. You came before anything happened."

"They threw around some threats last night while you were asleep. I was going to warn you to be careful, but you were gone before I could."

"I'm sorry." Anne closed her eyes. "I dreamed about Juney, and Lodi. Then I woke up and I was just... Scared. Of everything. Scared of what I've turned into, of what would happen if I became a… crow eater. I looked at you and wondered how long you'd want June Stahl's sister in your life…"

"You're crazier than I am."

"Tig..." Her voice broke. She wasn't crying, but he could see it was taking all her effort not to. Wolf for anyone else, completely vulnerable for him. He almost felt sorry for her. He was past all the walls, fences and barbed wire that she hid herself behind.

"Shut up," he said. He knew his hold on her must be hurting the bruises, but he held her firmly, his hand on the back of her neck. If she needed to know that he wanted her, he'd damn well show her with a kiss she'd never forget. When he loosened his grip, it didn't matter—she stayed in his arms, as close to him as his cut.

As they left the airport lounge, his arm flung around Anne's shoulders, he caught the eye of the man who'd taken an unsuccessful pass at Anne in the bar. Holding that stare, Tig gave the man a huge, wicked grin. It felt good.

It was a long day of riding after a very early, stressful morning. Although he felt buoyed by the warm weight of Anne on the bike behind him as they rode back to Charming, his eyes ached. On his own, he'd have pushed through to get home, but he worried about Anne. Her grip wasn't as tight as it had been when they left. He spotted a roadside diner and pulled into the parking lot.

When he looked at Anne's face, he knew he'd made the right decision. She was worn out and cold. He left her at a table while he went outside to call Clay. It wasn't a call he wanted to make, but it was necessary. The president sounded resigned that Anne was staying. "At least I won't have to put up with another six months of you and Sack sulking like heartsick school girls. But if there's any more bullshit drama with that girl, I'm going to mail her back to Canada in a box." In the back ground, Tig heard Gemma's triumphant cry of, "Hah! Told you she'd be back. Pay up, baby."

Inside, Anne hadn't moved from the booth. She wasn't asleep, but she looked like she wanted to be. She had one hand wrapped around her coffee cup and her eyes were closed as she leaned in the corner of the booth. When Tig came close, her eyes opened. She looked up at him, pale and thoughtful.

"I didn't think you'd come for me. Either at the motel, or the airport. You saved me twice today. How am I supposed to pay you back for that?"

"I'm sure we can work out something." Tig smirked. He sat down next to Anne.

She watched him with a small smile in her face. "Okay, honestly, is there anything else I need to be afraid of right now? Anyone else looking to get a piece of June out of me?"

Tig sighed. "Maybe. One of the guys who came around dropping threats wasn't in the motel today."

Anne made a small noise of disappointment and dropped her head to her arms, which rested on the table. "I'm never getting free of this mess."

Tig stroked the tangled waves of her hair, liking how soft it was under his calloused palm. When she lifted her head, he said, "They're not just screwing with you. They're screwing with the club. And screwing with us never ends well for people."

Anne rested her head on his shoulder. He liked the gesture. She was relying on him, but not clinging to him. She was fierce in her own right. Anne was, he realized, a woman he'd be proud to say was his. He would always love Gemma, but that was a woman he'd never had a chance with. He looked down at Anne, resting there at his side. After a moment, he lifted his arm and put it around her, drawing her closer against his body.

Anne didn't eat much, but she did drink the coffee. She remained pale, and her hand was still cold when Tig touched it. Suddenly suspicious, Tig traced the edge of the bruises on her left cheek with his fingers.

He growled. "Truth, this time. How bad are you hurt?"

Anne smiled ruefully. "Just bruised. They hit my car pretty hard."

Tig remembered the wrecked Chevy, facing the wrong way in a ditch on the highway. He followed the line of bruising down her neck. On a guess, he touched her left arm, closing his hand firmly around her arm just above the elbow. Anne went from pale to white and flinched away from him. He pulled back her sleeve. The bruises that had been faint marks hours ago were now dark and painful looking.

"Not hurt, huh." He frowned. "You're full of shit."

Anne looked at him reproachfully. "Nothing broken."

"Jesus, you think you're so damn tough, don't you."

"Aren't I?"

"Not when you look like you're gong to fall asleep in your french fries, no."

"All right, it hurts like hell and I'm so tired I might actually fall asleep in the fries. But it's nothing that isn't going to heal on its own."

"Right. But you're still gonna see Tara when we get back."

"If you want."

"Not optional."

Anne just shrugged. Tig watched her push the fries around her plate for a few minutes, then reached over to steal them. They were finishing their last cups of coffee in weary silence when Tig remembered her cell phone. He held it in his pocket for a moment, weighing the choice. Then he set it on the table in front of her.

"I wondered where this was." She tapped it on the table a few times, thoughtful. "You looked, didn't you."

It wasn't even a question. Tig studied her face to see if she was pissed. She didn't seem to be. After a time, Anne tucked the phone in her pocket. "At some point, we can talk about what I'm leaving behind in Calgary. If we really have to, we can talk about my ex-husband. But tonight's not the time for this."

Tig nodded. He was okay with that. As much as he wanted to know the deal with an ex-husband who was still leaving her messages, it was clear that he wasn't someone Anne was eager to run back to. Tig kissed her forehead, threw cash down on the table, and stood. Time to go home.