Chapter 17 Need for Speed #2
It’s truly dark already, and they must have been in the club longer than Nix thought.
He can’t tell what time it is exactly, but Jamie and Leo will be home before long.
And while Nix might have been willing to risk Gideon’s wrath about Luca’s orgasm, he was not willing to risk Jamie’s disappointed meltdown about the Ducati.
“We gotta go. They’ll be home any minute.”
“Shit. Come here, Doods. You caused enough trouble today. You get to ride with me.” He unzips the jacket and slips her tiny black body inside.
This time, getting the bike moving is easier, but no less exciting.
Even with the clock ticking, Nix grins as he runs every red light, taking corners at high speeds. At one point, Nix takes a hill at sixty miles an hour, and the bike flies over the top. A look in the rearview mirror shows Luca’s eyes closed as he mouths what looks like a prayer to the Goddess.
But Doodle? Her tiny ears may be flat, eyes squinted against the wind, but he can feel her purring against his spine.
She might love this almost as much as he does.
Surely, when she escaped, she had only been seeking adventure. Broadening her horizons. New places, fresh faces, and the occasional mango smoothie.
He can relate.
At that moment, Nix vows to take her out whenever he can. He knows what it feels like to have his freedom curtailed—life just beyond the window, choices made for him out of genuine care, but feeling no less restrictive for it.
The trip home feels shorter, and the garage door is still open and waiting.
Nix brings the bike to a stop, letting the bike idle.
He’s reluctant to give up the thrill so soon, knowing his next opportunity might be some time away.
He adds speaking to Jamie about getting his own bike someday to his list of personal vows he’s made tonight.
Right after blowing Luca’s mind and taking Doodle out more often. And maybe eating that cold meatball sub before someone gets home.
He pulls the bike in and hangs up the jackets, placing the helmets in the same configuration as they’d been before their big adventure. Hopefully, Jamie won’t notice the lingering scent of incense or the new claw marks near the zipper.
Luca beats him through the door, muttering something about never again and maybe kissing solid ground.
Before heading inside, he watches the garage door go down, yearning for that freedom as it disappears.
“Hey, you coming or what? We’ve gotta eat this evidence before they get back.”
Focusing on Luca’s smile and the scent of marinara, Nix files the night’s adventure under DO IT AGAIN SOON.
After they dispose of the empty Giorgio’s bags under the stinkiest trash in the bin, and burn that photo of Tommy’s to ash, they start up Fast and Furious. It’s not the same, but the sounds of engines revving and the squealing of tires mean Nix can easily call to mind the freedom of the road.
Luca makes him laugh as he acts out the more dangerous (fun) events of their rescue, this time with exaggerated hysterics about Tommy’s portrayal of a cat-worshipping High Priest who wets his pants.
Oh, how Nix loves him. How blessed he is to have this life.
It’s enough for now to know that this life contains all kinds of adventure, even if not all of it is out there at top speed.
Jamie and Leo arrive home first, loud and happy from their time together. Date nights within their polycule are some of Nix’s new favorite things.
“You have a good night, baby boy?” Jamie whispers as he slips in beside him, smelling of metal, wood shavings, and IPA. Maybe even a little like a satisfied, cinnamon-scented Leo, too.
“We really, really did.”
Pressing his nose in behind Nix’s ear, he asks, “Did you and Luca get up to anything exciting?”
He’s saved from lying when Rowan and Grayson arrive, giggling like it’s the middle of the night, not ten PM.
“They sound like they had a good time.” Luca rolls his eyes.
“We did!” Grayson slurs. “But Rowan can’t hold his liquor.”
“Liquor? Don’t even know her!” Rowan laughs from the kitchen. “Hey, the water dispenser’s empty! Whose turn is it?”
“Yours!” Everyone answers at exactly the same time.
“Shit.” Big shoulders dropping, he heads toward the garage.
Shit.
Nix hadn’t expected anyone to be in the garage for at least twelve hours. The scent of exhaust and the hot engine had to be noticeable.
Tense beside him, Luca grabs his hand, because this is where everything could go for shit.
But Rowan isn’t the most observant. Nix thanks the tequila gods when he arrives carrying a large jug of water for the dispenser, managing to spill some on the floor before Jamie finally gets it lined up.
“Fuck, that was close,” Luca whispers. “Good thing he’s even less observant when he’s tanked.”
“No kidding.”
“Hey, did Doodle get a new collar? And why is she sitting on the Ducati? It’s like she wants to go for a ride.”
Perhaps they spoke too soon.
***
The following day, Nix loads Doodle into a carrier. He hadn’t forgotten any of the promises he’d made to himself after his adventure. Not one.
He chats to Artem on the drive about his new car, his new sweater, and how he smells a little like black tea, wheatgrass, blueberries, and happiness. By the time they reach Lupine Park, the fall wind has picked up, but the sun has come out from behind the clouds.
Nix finds a grassy spot on a hill where he can tie Doodle’s leash to a little stake he pushes into the soil. It’s not the same as being on the back of the Ducati going sixty miles an hour, but at least it’s a start. She seems content anyway, or maybe like him, she’s biding her time.
He’s laughing at her antics with a dandelion when his text chime goes off.
Logan Frost?
See me at Sentinel tomorrow, if you’re really serious.
Serious? About what? Ohhhh. Agent training.
The accompanying photos load, making Nix gasp out loud. They’re from traffic cams all over the city.
Crystal-clear images of Nix and Luca on the bright red Ducati, drag racing through the intersection. Dodging red lights. Caught in mid-air, with Doodle’s tail and Luca’s bare ass hanging out.
That he’s sending it to Nix—and not to Jamie or Gideon—is something to be grateful for. The how and why he’s tracking Nix on traffic cams are a conversation for Thursday. Because fuck yes, he’s really, really serious.