Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Kennedy refused to hold Cree back from getting on the road, all because her ass and back hurt. Even her legs ached from being in the same position for so long the day before. The boots he’d bought her were comfortable, but the blisters hadn’t healed like she’d hope.
Leaning over the bed, she rolled and repacked the backpack, making sure it was done properly.
Cree pulled back the curtains, allowing the morning light to flow in through the windows.
The day was clear, but still, they could see dark, heavy snow-laden clouds in the distance.
Catching sight of the bike, Kennedy glared at it like an ex-boyfriend.
She wasn’t liking the damn machine. NOT. AT. ALL.
During the night, while they slept, a small storm had passed through the area, covering the parking lot with inches of snow.
Leaving the backpack on the bed, she stepped to the window and looked outside.
Where there was snow, there was a possibility of ice.
Anyone who lived in the north knew that.
With the clouds in the distance, they probably had time to put the hundred miles behind them.
The wind rattled the panes, a telltale sign it wasn’t a simple breeze.
That would make the ride more difficult.
“What’s the temperature?” she asked.
Cree raised his brows at the question. “Twenty-eight.”
Trying not to look alarmed, Kennedy shrugged the answer off. “Better make sure we’re layered up.”
Kennedy was well rested, but there were signs she was sore as hell.
It showed in her eyes and in her movements.
Cree kept his gaze on her while they packed, making sure to pay attention to any signs she wasn’t up for the ride.
If she needed an extra hour before getting back in the saddle, he’d give it to her, and he’d do it without any grumbling.
The girl had ridden over seven hundred miles the day before.
Hardened riders would be exhausted. Hell, he wasn’t looking for the hundred-mile ride ahead of them and he was referred to as an iron ass, which meant he could ride a thousand miles on any given day.
Looking at the sky, Cree made the decision to give them both time for a decent breakfast. He’d already made a pass through the hotel and the parking lot, looking for any dark sedans or men who seemed out of place. He’d found nothing out of the ordinary. “Kennedy?”
Pulling on her jacket, she looked over at Cree. “Yeah?”
“I’m hungry, and my ass isn’t ready to get back on the bike. Would you mind if we had some breakfast before we get on the road?”
“I’d love something to eat.” Taking the jacket off, she tossed it on the bed.
“Cool. Let’s walk down to the dining room and see what the buffet looks like. Elaine said it would be decent.”
“Who’s Elaine again?”
“You know who she is.” He laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
It felt natural to have Cree drape an arm over her shoulders and to have playful banter with him. Even arguing with him put a smile on her face. Wrapping her arm around his waist, they stepped into the hallway. “Oh yeah, the blonde you were flirting with last night.”
“Are you jealous?” he joked .
“Why? I get to wrap my legs around you.”
“Yeah, ya do.” You can wrap your legs and arms and mouth around me anytime, iskwew, he thought.
They hadn’t made it five miles down the road when Cree noticed a wobble in the rearend and pulled the bike into a gas station to check it. His gloved hands were frozen to the rubber grips, and he had to peel them off.
Kennedy knew the drill, so she climbed off first. Stepping back, her foot slipped on ice, landing her ass on the cold ground. “Fuck!”
Looking back at the sound of Kennedy swearing, he saw she was on the ground and struggling to get up. Dropping the kickstand, he went to get off and felt the ice. “Be careful!” she shouted at him.
Taking his time so he wouldn’t bust his ass, Cree hung onto the gas pump and gave Kennedy a hand up. “You good?”
“Yeah, but my fucking ass is now wet,” she bitched, dusting the ice from her butt.
Cree didn’t like hearing her swearing like a damn sailor. Taking her chin in his hand, he brought Kennedy’s face around. “Don’t let me hear that word come out of your mouth again.”
“I swear,” she said, frustrated with the situation.
“Yeah, just not fuck, fucker, or fucking. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Cree kissed her on the mouth fast then let her go. Seeing the shocked look on her face, he turned his attention to the rear tire. Shit.
After checking everything out, he found nothing wrong. They’d probably just hit a patch of ice. “Looks like we’re good.”
“I’m ready,” Kennedy told him, bouncing from foot to foot, trying to keep her boots from getting wet and icy.
Climbing on the bike, he knocked the kickstand up and held the bike steady as Kennedy climbed on behind him. “Remember to tap me if there’s a problem.”
“I will.”
Pulling out the parking lot, Kennedy kept her eyes on the road ahead and the dark heavy clouds off in the distance.
They had ninety-five miles to go before the knots in her stomach would settle.
She wished she had her phone so she could listen to a book or music, or even the podcast about serial killers.
Anything would be better than the silence inside the helmet.
Lost in thought, the miles passed by at a quick pace.
Taking a glimpse over Cree’s shoulder, she saw they had ridden thirty miles since leaving the gas station.
She tried not squirming on the seat, but her ass was on fire, and her core was hurting from keeping upright on the tiny pad.
Sixty miles, Kennedy. You can do it. That thought became the chant she repeated in her head as they continued down the road.
She felt Cree tap her thigh and looked at what he was pointing to.
The road sign said ‘Red Lake, twenty nine miles’.
Rubbing a hand over his stomach, she felt a since of relief.
Just then, the back end slipped, sending the bike sideways as Cree held on, trying to control it.
Looking to the side, Kennedy saw a snow-covered field coming up fast.
When the bike dropped into a deep lean, she lifted her foot to keep it from getting pinned under the bike.
And in a stunt-worthy moment, she used her opposite foot to launch herself off the bike as it went off the road.
All she could do was close her eyes as she sailed through the air.
Lucky for her, soft snow cushioned her landing.
Fighting the wet snow, Kennedy got to her knees, searching for Cree and the bike.
She found them both in the field about fifty feet from her.
The bike was upright, and Cree was still in the saddle.
Neck, fingers, hands, back, and legs, she chanted, making sure nothing felt injured.
Shoving to her feet, she ripped the helmet off and ran across the snow-covered field, making her way to Cree.
“Are you okay?” she asked, coming up to him.
“What the fuck just happened?”
“I think we hit black ice.”
“How the hell did you clear the bike?”
“I launched myself from it.”
At hearing her explanation, Cree looked over at Kennedy. “Do what?”
“I used the foot peg to launch myself off the bike. I landed in the snowbank.”
Letting go of the handlebars, Cree shoved the palms of his hands into his eyes. Player would actually kill him if she had gotten injured. “You could’ve been hurt, Kennedy.”
“I could’ve been bleeding on the road if I hadn’t.”
They could argue the point all damn day, but they needed to get the bike back on the road. “We’ll talk about this later tonight. After I wrap my head around it.”
“Sounds good to me. Now, how do I help get the bike out of this fu— damn field?”
“Head up to the road. I’ll ride it out.”
Turning around, she walked the cleared path the bike had carved when it slid through the snow. At least Cree wouldn’t have to dig the bike out, she thought.