Chapter 6 Natasha
NATASHA
The wind whipped around us as car tires squealed in the distance.
Tears rumbled down my cheeks as I hung on as tightly as I could.
My thighs clamped down harder. I locked my feet around this strange man’s waist. My fingertips dug into the meat of his abs as I held on tightly.
And through his clothing, I felt the strength of his muscles.
Not now, Natasha.
I closed my eyes, too scared to look at what was happening around me. The motorcycle he drove tilted almost to the damn ground on a couple of occasions. Gunshots rang out again, the wind of bullets soaring by us. I shivered with fear, knowing damn good and well this was how I would met my end.
This was how I’d go out.
They wanted to kill me.
I didn’t know where we were going and, quite frankly, I didn’t care.
All I wanted was to live my life and try to stay out of trouble.
So, how the hell did trouble always find me?
How the hell did I end up in an abusive relationship with some asshole before seeking refuge with the damn mafia?
How the hell did I get entangled with some drunken businessman who couldn't keep his hands to himself?
How in fuck’s name did I end up on the back of some nameless man’s bike, running for my life?
Your life is insanity, Natasha.
I drew in deep breaths as I clung to the strange man in front of me.
I peeked my eyes open on a couple of occasions and saw men in black SUVs pulling up beside us.
He darted off into alleyways, honking his bike horn as people screamed and yelped.
They threw themselves out of the way as car tires squealed on the asphalt.
Trying to keep up with us as his bike darted in and out.
Taking sharp corners and driving down small lanes nothing other than bikes could take.
But every time, those damn cars found us.
“We’re going to die,” I whispered.
“No, we’re not,” he growled.
I whipped my head up. Had he really heard that?
Gunfire rained down and I shivered against him.
His back muffled my screams. His muscles pulsed underneath his clothes.
My feet screamed out for warm water and Epsom salts and my stomach cried out for food.
My eyes wanted to fall closed. My body was giving up because of the massive surge of adrenaline.
I was tired. Defeated. Unable to keep my eyes open as my body slowly shut itself down.
Then, he randomly crossed the road.
Car horns honked, shooting me awake as I jumped against him. I peeked over to the side, watching as the brick wall of another building came into view. Only this time, he turned his bike around. He slowed his panting down to nothing. Down to silent breaths as we sat there on his bike.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
But all he did was put his fingers to his lips.
The black SUVs went rushing past. Men hung out of the car with their guns trained in front of them.
I watched one pass. Then, two. Three. Four.
Five fucking black SUVs trying to track us down.
And all of them zoomed by the entrance of the alleyway.
So, I looked behind us to see if they could somehow find us that way.
And I was met with a solid brick wall that turned this alleyway into a dead end.
“Are you all right?”
This strange man craned his neck back, peering his eyes over his shoulder.
And as his question dawned on me, I scoffed.
He unraveled me from his body and slid off his bike, his eyes traveling my form.
I was used to the wandering eye of men on my skin.
My legs, usually. Because of how long they were.
Men were either intimidated by my dark stare or my height. And usually, it was a bit of both.
But after he raked his eyes over me for the third time, the adrenaline had worn off enough for me to find my voice.
“Are you fucking insane?” I asked.
He nodded slowly. “Usually.”
“That was rhetorical.”
“Not with me.”
“What the hell were you thinking, intervening like that and causing problems? Now, I’m sure they want me dead. They probably think I was in cahoots with you or something!”
He paused. “Cahoots?”
“You know, working with you. Planning some epic escape or something.”
“So, you’re a prisoner, but you’re complaining about someone helping you escape?”
I rolled my eyes. “You wouldn't understand.”
“Then, help me understand. That man was about to rape you. And you’re upset that I stopped it.”
“I’m not upset that—you just—you’ve ruined my livelihood. What the hell am I supposed to do with that now? There’s no proving my innocence at this point,” I said.
He blinked. “Well, I’ve got bigger issues than some asshole at a casino.”
“And I’ve got bigger issues than a man with a machismo God complex.”
“He was about. To rape. You.”
“And you’ve. Just destroyed. My cover.”
He furrowed his brow. “Cover? Are you a cop or something?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not saying anything more.”
I stared in front of me, feeling his eyes burrowing daggers into my face.
I wasn’t thanking him for shit. I could’ve taken care of myself.
I could’ve fought that man off. Men were always vulnerable during that moment when they’re about to take their damn dick out.
One well-placed knee to the groin? And he would’ve been down.
Not to mention, if female staff on the floor are out of sight for more than fifteen minutes? Guards went searching for them. That was the rule in Lars’ casino. I would’ve been found. That man would’ve been dealt with accordingly. And knowing Phillip? That man would’ve been dead.
But, no. This nameless dickweed had to be a hero.
“Are you done pouting now?” he asked.
“Not until you take me back,” I said.
He snickered. “I’m not taking you anywhere near that place.”
“Not your choice.”
“Fine. Then I’m not going anywhere near that place. You want to go back? Get a cab like everyone else.”
I whipped my head over toward him and pointed my finger near his face.
“I’m in this situation because of you, you asshole. You, and no one else. You’ll clean up the mess you’ve made of my life, or I’ll make your life a living nightmare.”
He grinned. “That a promise?”
“No. It’s a threat. Because if you’re in some slimy casino like that, you’ve got a life to hide. A past you’re running from. A past I’m sure the police around here would enjoy hearing all about the second they put you in handcuffs.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening me?”
“Depends. Is that gun you have on your body legal?”
We stared at one another as his face reddened with anger.
“I’m not taking you back there. Because I’m not going back there without a plan. And if you’re right and they suddenly want you dead, they’ll shoot you before you even get through the front doors,” he said.
“And who’s fault is that!?” I exclaimed.
“Will you keep your damn shrieking down?”
“Fine, you don’t want to take me back and clean up your fucking mess? Leave me here.”
“I’m not leaving you in an alleyway with the condition your feet are in.”
“Now, all of a sudden, you give a shit about me?”
“I gave a shit about you when I saw a poor woman begging a drunk man not to take advantage of her,” he said.
“No one asked you to intervene!” I exclaimed.
“No one usually does, yet I do it anyway! Because I can’t stand to watch people get hurt!” he bellowed.
His nostrils flared with anger. His fists clenched at his sides.
I couldn't deny how attractive the man was. But, holy shit, he was a ball of absolute nonsense. God complexes. A need to save what was around him. The man had issues. And I didn’t want to stick around long enough to sift through it all.
Because I had issues of my own I had to fix now.
All thanks to this asshole.
“Well, I’m not going with you. So, figure it out. You can leave me here, you can take me back to my place, or you can take me back to the casino,” I said.
His face softened. “You can’t go back to your place.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah. If they really want you dead, your place will be the first place they look. They’ll probably have someone staking it out. Waiting to put a bullet in your skull the second you turn up.”
“You aren’t convincing me to come with you. That shit isn’t happening.”
“You might not have a choice.”
I gnashed my teeth together. “Because of you!”
He scoffed. “You’ve already said that.”
“Then, why don’t you own up to your fucking actions instead of grinning at me like a toddler who just got away with getting a cookie out of the cookie jar.”
“That was… oddly specific.”
“I’m going to strangle you.”
I leapt off his bike and lunged for him.
My hands outstretched. Ready to wrap around his neck.
But as his face fell to stone, his hands wrapped around my wrists.
He prevented me from getting to him as I stumbled around on my feet.
The harsh asphalt shot searing pain up my legs.
My open blisters screamed at me as dirty, nasty alleyway water coated them.
My knees buckled, dropping me to the ground.
Only, this man caught me in his arms before my body hit the floor.
“We need to get you somewhere so we can get you cleaned up,” he said.
“I’m not going with you. You’ve ruined my life,” I said.
“And from the sounds of it, your life had already been ruined well before I came along.”
“You can’t make me do anything. I’m not your slave. I’m not yours to own or boss around.”
He settled me against his bike. “I’m not telling you what to do. I’m telling you what you should do for your own good. If you want to go to your place or go back to the casino and be gunned down, that’s your right. I’d like you to not do that, though.”
I sighed. “And why’s that? I’m too pretty to bleed out in the street?”
He slid his leg over his bike in front of me. “No. Because I need information from you.”
“There they are. I’ve got them!” someone yelled.
“The alleyway. I see them down there!”
“I’ve got you now, you little bitch.”
And when a bullet soared by me, I cried out in fear.
He struck his bike back up and tore away from the alley.
Men shot at us from the rooftops of the buildings we’d been stationed between.
And I feared for my life. I clung to him again.
Tears crested my eyes. My thigh burned more than anything I’d ever experienced, and my feet wanted to do nothing but rest. His bike skidded along the asphalt.
Cars honked their horns as we blew through red lights and tore through stop signs.
I felt the jostling of alleyways, even with my eyes closed.
And I felt those alleyways give way to back roads.
That gave way to main roads. That gave way to neighborhoods we zoomed through.
I’m going to die tonight.
Just as quickly as the gunfire started up, it ceased. The revving of those black SUVs could no longer be heard. I peeked out from beyond this man’s back, trying to figure out where we were. And when I heard the crashing of waves beside us, I lifted my head.
The ocean was beautiful at night.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
The man’s voice ripped me from my trance, and I looked at him. Stared into the back of his head. I peeked around, leaning to the side as I tried to figure out who the hell he was speaking with.
And I saw an earpiece in his ear.
How did the guards not see that?
“Uh huh. I’m heading back. Got someone in tow that I think can help us. Yep. Our cover was blown. Not for the reason you think. Grave, will you—Rock, just—Brewer, tell them to shut the hell up.”
I furrowed my brow before resting my cheek against his shoulder.
Despite how much I wanted to throw this man off the cliffside that passed by us on the left, I still needed him to stay alive.
Until I could figure out my next steps—or get in touch with Phillip—I had to play nice with the egotistical asshole.
And, apparently, whoever his fucking friends were.