Twenty minutes later, Matt had finished
stowing their groceries in the trunk of Vic’s car and now waited to
be released. Oh, he could go, no question—he’d only been a witness
to the events, and the police on the scene already had his
statement. But Vic was still getting the third degree.
The three bikers were just college-aged kids.
They stood together by one of the shopping cart carrels, handcuffed
to the metal bars so they wouldn’t wander off. Their bikes lay
crumpled around the parking lot, cheap motorcycles that hadn’t
stood a chance against a man like Vic. His super strength came from
Matt, from their love, and as much as Matt hated when his lover was
put in danger, he couldn’t deny that a very small part of him had
swelled with pride to see Vic step out among the bikers,
