Chapter 6 #2
Dax revs the engine. “Get ready.”
Before there’s a moment to back out, I squeal as the motorcycle takes off.
He glides by the parking lot and out the main property gates.
The bike swerves around street corners and weaves through traffic as we flee the country club.
I press myself against the dip between Dax’s shoulder blades.
We live in a lush mountain area, and the motorcycle makes me feel the incline and dip of every hill.
Dax avoids the main streets, skirting the motorcycle through neighborhoods until he reaches the edge of town.
My arms brace around him like they’re made of steel.
My jaw clenches and my mind whirs. Why would this boy track me down?
He shouldn’t want anything to do with me.
I don’t even know where we’re going. What if he takes me toward his home?
As the neighborhoods I’m familiar with zoom past us, I realize we’re headed in the direction of Logan’s Point.
The pressure in my mouth builds as I grit my teeth harder.
He made a point of letting me know he knew about my family.
How could I have been so stupid and gotten on this motorcycle?
This was a setup. A trap. He lured me to follow him so The Scorpions could kidnap me and ask my father for a hefty ransom.
My arms tighten around his waist. “Stop. Stop.”
Dax groans. “Geez. You wanna loosen your grip?”
My hands clench together, and I push them into his stomach. “Stop! Stop the bike.”
Dax slows the motorcycle and veers to the side of the road, and a muted scream rushes out of me. Once parked, I whip a leg off the bike and back away with urgency. I rip off the helmet and chuck it to the ground.
“Whoa. What’s up with you?” Dax asks, getting off the bike and stepping toward me.
I lift my hands in defense. “Stay back!”
Dax halts, arching an eyebrow in curiosity. “What happened? You seemed pretty eager to jump on the back at your fancy country club.”
“Tell me that wasn’t all planned,” I say in a rush.
Dax sniggers. “What? That I knew when you’d walk out and that you’d agree to ride with me? I wasn’t even planning on asking you.”
I slam a hand on my chest. “You know who I am?”
The fun in Dax’s expression drops. He stares at me, dumbfounded. “What was that?”
“You said the men at your clubhouse would trap me if they knew I was an Ashworth.” Jitters run throughout my body, and my heart pounds. “Did you tell them who I was? Did they make you find me?”
Dax huffs, running a hand over his face. His jacket sleeve rides up, exposing part of the scorpion underneath. “Are you asking if I’m kidnapping you?”
I hug my middle, and my stomach drops. “Yes.”
Dax shakes his head, retrieving a pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. “You’re unbelievable.”
My teeth chatter. “That’s not an answer.”
“Why would I have told you to leave when you were at the clubhouse?” Dax asks, perplexed. “Why would I waste my time like that? I could’ve let McCoy take you right then and there.”
The thought sends a shiver through me.
He looks me dead in the eye. “I told you being there wasn’t safe. I’m not taking you back.”
I rub my goosebump-riddled arms, trembling at the honesty in his words. “Can you understand why I jumped to that conclusion?”
Dax smirks. “Sure. Why should you believe someone like me?”
He digs a cigarette out of the pack, along with a lighter.
“Wait!” I shout, lifting a hand like a stop sign.
He pauses with the cigarette and lighter fixed between his fingers in mid-air.
“Don’t light up.” I look around our surroundings for an excuse. “Can we go somewhere else?”
He lowers the cigarette, and joy sparks within me.
“Why?” he asks skeptically. “You just accused me of kidnapping you. Why would you want to get back on the bike?”
I shrug. “It was just a little panic attack.”
“Forget that,” Dax says gruffly. “Why would I want to take you anywhere? I should just leave you here on the side of the road.”
Fear bubbles inside me, and I hurry closer to him. “I’m sorry I accused you of something so ugly. Please don’t ditch me here.”
He tilts his head, and his grin verges on sinister. “Why? Afraid you don’t have cell service to call your driver?”
I frown, powerless.
Dax chuckles, putting the cigarette pack inside his jacket pocket.
He leans against the motorcycle, lighting the cigarette sitting between his lips.
He exhales smoke from the corner of his mouth and grins at me.
“No, I got it. Little Miss Precious doesn’t want to call her driver and explain why she’s stranded alone on the side of the road.
Is that right? Afraid it’ll get back to Mommy and Daddy? ”
I fold my arms, and my facial muscles contract as I sigh. He’s so irritating I forgot to conceal my frustration.
Dax lifts the cigarette, inspecting it. “Wait. Is it this? Were you trying to stop me from lighting up?”
“You have to admit, it’s a vile habit.”
He takes another drag of the cigarette, gradually exhaling the smoke. “You called your little outburst a panic attack. I’d call it having a good day.” He lifts the cigarette, and his shoulders slump forward. “These things keep me from spiraling. I’m leveled out when I have one.”
I bite my lip, contemplating his words.
He takes another drag, perching against the bike. “It’s better than getting loaded on booze every day.”
Is it? “Hmm. I guess.”
After another puff, Dax stands, drops the cigarette, and stomps on it with his heavy boot. Clutching his side with one hand, he dips to retrieve the helmet I chucked on the ground.
“Do you really want me to take you somewhere?” he asks.
I gesture to his side. “Are you okay to go somewhere?”
He shrugs. “I’ll be riding around, regardless.”
“I don’t want to go back to the country club,” I admit. “And I’m not ready to go home. Other than those two places, I have no idea where I want to go.”
Dax offers the helmet. “I have a place in mind. That is, if you won’t freak out again mid-ride.”
I take the helmet. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere near the clubhouse.”
I slide on the helmet. “Okay.”
He slides off his leather jacket. “Here, take this. You’ve been shaking this whole time.”
I take a step backwards. “No, it’s okay.”
He pushes his tattooed arm out further. “Just take it.”
Inadvertently, I shiver again. I grasp the jacket and murmur a thank you, somewhat exhilarated by the fact I have no idea where I’m going.
Dax throws a leg over the motorcycle and revs the engine in preparation.
I slide my arms into his jacket. I could fit another set of arms in the sleeves, and the waist could wrap around me one and a half times.
Trying not to inhale lingering cigarette fumes, I zip up the jacket and then climb on behind him.
When I hug my arms around him, he remarks, “Try not to cut off my air supply this time.”
A nervous chuckle hiccups out of me. “Sorry about that.”
Dax revs the motor again and takes off from the side of the road.