Chapter Seven
Danny’s voice buzzed through the Bluetooth headset, warm and excited. “I’m telling you it tastes amazing. You wouldn’t think so from the ingredients, but trust me, it’s delicious.”
“We can try it tonight. Everything you listed I already have in my kitchen.” Ash leaned into the curve of the road, savoring the way Danny's thighs tightened around his.
The miles between town and home had never felt longer, yet he found himself wishing for more road, more time with Danny pressed against his back.
As soon as he’d pulled away from Mama Lou’s, his mate had started talking and hadn’t stopped since. Ash wasn’t sure what had caused his sudden chattiness but was savoring every word.
Danny’s fingers twitched against Ash’s stomach.
Those expressive hands that normally punctuated every word as he talked were now safely anchored around him.
Right now, he needed Danny to keep them locked around him since they were doing ninety down a back road with one too many bends and steep inclines.
“What would be the perfect drink pairing with that dish?” Ash asked, wanting his mate to keep talking. Danny’s voice was like listening to birdsong on a lazy Sunday morning.
Ash’s Sunday mornings were sacred, almost a ritual—Fleetwood Mac and coffee. Thinking of Danny’s voice as a part of that routine would make those mornings even more special.
“Huh. I never considered that. But now that you mentioned it, I usually drink strawberry lemonade when I make it.”
“With sauerkraut? Seriously?”
“They’re both tart.” Danny’s laugh vibrated through the connection. “Don’t judge until you’ve tried it.”
Inside-out stuffed peppers and strawberry lemonade. Ash was open to trying new dishes, so why not try—
The bike lurched forward.
Danny's scream pierced through Ash's earpiece as arms cinched around his waist like a vise.
The side mirror revealed a black pickup closing in, its grille gleaming like bared teeth.
The truck surged forward again, but this time, Ash swerved, the bike’s engine roaring as he twisted the throttle.
They shot forward, engine screaming. He scanned their surroundings.
Dense forest on either side of the narrow road. Nothing helpful.
“Hang on tight.” Ash kept his tone calm, even though rage was building in his chest.
The pickup gained on them, engine growling like a predator. Ahead, the road curved sharply around a cliff face. It was both their salvation and potential doom.
Waiting until the last possible second, Ash cut left into the opposite lane and twisted the throttle. Instead of slowing, Ash accelerated and leaned into the turn. The bike tilted at an angle that left his leg hovering mere inches from the asphalt, the ground rushing beneath them in a gray blur.
One patch of gravel, one miscalculation…
“Don’t. Let. Go,” he gritted out, feeling Danny’s body tense against him.
“I’m holding on as tight as I can!” The shout stabbed Ash’s sensitive ears.
They cleared the bend, and Ash yanked the bike upright, the sudden shift nearly unseating them both. He gunned toward town, not home. Town meant witnesses.
The pickup’s engine roared behind them, closing the gap inch by inch. Ash’s mind raced faster than the bike. Crimson Hollow’s police force, all shifters, could handle this threat, whatever it was, human or otherwise.
If they could make it there.
Ash’s only priority: Keep his mate alive. Danny came first.
Always first.
The pickup was gaining ground.
“Honey bear, I need to disconnect our link so I can call for backup. It’ll only take a second then I’ll reconnect us. I promise.”
The silence stretched. Each heartbeat without Danny’s response felt like an eternity.
“Okay,” Danny finally whispered.
The Bluetooth link was their only tether during this nightmare. Breaking it felt like cutting a lifeline.
“Siri, disconnect helmet.” The command felt like cutting off a limb. “Siri, call Zeppelin.”
He gave Danny’s hands a quick squeeze before gripping the handlebars again.
His mate curled his fingers against Ash’s stomach.
First ring. The pickup swerved closer, its shadow engulfing them.
Second ring. Ash’s knuckles whitened on the handlebars.
Third ring. “Hey, Ash.”
“Route 23. Mile marker 45.” His words came in sharp bursts. “Pickup trying to run us off the road. My mate’s with me. Heading east.”
“We’re in town. On our way.”
“Siri, end call.” Ash wouldn’t breathe a sigh of relief until Danny was safe. Panic for Danny’s safety mixed with rage at whoever was behind them. His bear clawed at his insides, demanding to get out, to turn and tear apart whoever dared threaten his mate’s life. “Siri, activate helmet link.”
“Unable to link.”
Ash’s heart stuttered. “Siri, activate helmet link!”
“Unable to link.”
Danny was alone now. Trapped in silence. No way to know what was happening.
“Siri, activate the fucking helmet link!”
“Unable to link.”
Glancing down, Ash realized they were in even deeper trouble.
The needle on the gas gauge trembled, hovering just above empty. “Goddamn it!” He’d skipped refueling, thinking he had plenty to get home, but it wasn’t enough for a high-speed chase over mountain roads.
Now each second at full throttle was draining what little remained.
The pickup’s engine changed pitch behind them. Ash glanced in the mirror and saw the truck wasn’t slowing for the curve this time. It was accelerating.
Metal slammed against metal as the pickup rammed into the bike’s rear. The rear wheel lost traction, skidding sideways while the front wheel jerked in the opposite direction. Rubber shrieked against asphalt.
Time turned into heartbeats.
Danny’s grip loosened. His scream tore through the evening sky as they went airborne, suspended in the terrible moment before gravity claimed them.
With one desperate twist of his body, Ash lunged for Danny’s wrist, his fingers closing around it just as their bodies began to separate.
He yanked Danny into his arms, curling his larger body around the smaller frame like a living shield.
His mate tucked his legs in instinctively.
One heartbeat.
Danny’s fingers clawed desperately at Ash’s shirt.
Two heartbeats.
Ash tucked his mate’s head beneath his chin, locking him in place as the asphalt rushed up to meet them.
Half a second.
Impact.
A primal roar tore from his throat as his left side exploded with white-hot agony, asphalt tearing through skin then muscle.
The world spun in violent flashes—sky, ground, sky, ground. Each rotation brought fresh waves of agony as they tumbled down the incline. Still, Ash’s arms remained vise-tight around Danny, his grip never loosening.
The violent shred of pavement suddenly gave way to grass. Relief flickered just as something solid cracked against Ash’s skull. Bright lights burst behind his eyes then scattered into pinpricks of white against encroaching darkness, sounds stretching into distorted echoes.
His last coherent thought was that his mate had survived.