Dylan POV
I wobble slightly on the bike but I’m determined as hell to get this right. A whole month of trying to ride and Blaze still hasn’t let me leave the fucking grounds. Not once.
Which is exactly why I’m using now as my chance. The giant man beast has left to handle some club shit, and for the last few hours I’ve been pacing back and forth like a maniac debating whether I should actually do this.
He’s going to punish me later. That thought only makes me want to do it more.
I’ve got two options. Blaze gave me one of his bikes, but it’s a massive beast just like him and it honestly terrifies the fuck out of me. So he bought me a smaller one. Still big as shit, but less likely to murder me.
“You’re so going to be hurting later,” Siren calls out from the side, grinning like she’s enjoying this way too much.
I ignore her and pull my helmet on. He can’t complain if I’m wearing the damn thing.
I start the bike, heart hammering, and slowly ride toward the gate. I’m actually fucking doing it. The gate begins to open and I hear Siren cheering behind me like I’m heading off to war.
Yeah, suck my cock Blaze and your whole “It’s too dangerous, you’re not good enough yet” bullshit. Look at me now, bitch.
I feel like clapping but that would be fucking stupid, so I don’t. The second the gates are open wide enough I ride out, trying not to speed too much. But the thrill of finally doing this is too strong. As soon as I turn onto the road I twist the throttle and pick up more speed.
I’m doing it! I’m actually fucking doing it!
Step one to getting patched in, learning to ride, is done. I need this if I want any chance of becoming a prospect, and now I fucking can.
The deep growl of another bike behind me makes me jerk. I glance in the mirror and my stomach drops.
Fuck. He’s back.
I stare at the mirror, hoping he turns into the yard, but he speeds right past it, gaining on me fast.
Shit. Busted. I don't stop though.
The wind whips against my helmet as I twist the throttle just a little more. The road stretches out in front of me, empty and open, and for the first time in weeks I feel… free. I can’t stop the smug grin spreading across my face under the visor.
Look at me now, Blaze.
A month of him hovering, telling me I wasn’t ready, that it was too dangerous. And here I am, riding. Actually riding. The smaller bike he bought me feels manageable now, responsive under me. I’m doing it.
I glance in the mirror and see him. Blaze’s bike is gaining fast, that heavy beast of his eating up the distance. I laugh inside my helmet. Too late, big guy. I’m already out. He can yell at me when we get back.
The thrill is addictive. I lean into the next turn, feeling the power under me, the vibration through my bones. For once I’m not the weak one. I’m not the stutter, the small guy, the liability. I’m moving. I’m free.
Then I see them.
Multiple bikes up ahead. At first I think it’s nothing, just some riders. But they’re not moving like normal traffic. They’re moving, spreading out, forming a loose line across the road. One of them is positioned directly in my lane, angled straight at me.
My stomach drops.
What the fuck?
I ease off the throttle, heart hammering. They’re not random. The way they’re positioned, it looks deliberate. The one aimed at me revs his engine, inching forward like he’s ready to charge.
Panic floods me instantly. I grip the handlebars tighter, mind racing. I can’t stop. I can’t turn around fast enough. There’s no space. My breath comes fast and shallow inside the helmet as I realize how exposed I am.
The roar of a bike behind me grows deafening. Blaze is right there. I see him in the mirror, speeding up hard, leaning low. He cuts sharply in front of me at the last second, putting his heavier bike between me and the oncoming rider.
Everything happens too fast.
The impact is brutal.
My lighter off-road bike slams into the side of Blaze’s. The force throws me forward violently. My hands lose the grips, my body lifts off the seat. For one terrifying second I’m airborne, the world spinning around me, sky, road, bikes all blurring together.
I hear metal screeching. Someone shouting and then strong arms wrap around me mid-air.
Blaze.
He catches me, pulling me against his chest as both our bikes slide and crash. The world tilts violently. I feel the scrape of asphalt, the jarring impact as we go down, but Blaze takes most of it, curling around me protectively even as we skid.
The other bike, the one that had been aiming for me, swerves hard at the last second. The rider loses control. It spins sideways, tires screaming, and comes to a violent stop just inches from Blaze’s downed bike.
For a second everything is silent except for the ringing in my ears and the pounding of my heart.
Blaze’s arms are locked around me like iron. I can feel him breathing hard against the back of my neck, his body tense and shaking from the adrenaline and impact.
I’m alive.
He just… saved me.
My hands are still gripping onto him, trembling. The smugness I felt minutes ago is completely gone, replaced by pure fear and something heavier, guilt. I did this. I snuck out. I put us both in danger.
Blaze’s voice comes out rough and strained through his helmet, close to my ear.
“You fucking idiot.”
“S-s-s-sorry,” I stutter, voice shaking.
There’s a laugh from the group of bikers who have now stopped around us. “Awe… S-s-s-s-s-sorry,” someone mocks in a high-pitched voice. I flinch hard at the cruel imitation.
But Blaze is already moving. He drags the guy who had aimed straight at me off his bike with terrifying strength. I rip my helmet off just in time to see Blaze’s fist swing and connect with the guy’s face.
The impact is brutal. The guy staggers but then starts laughing like a complete maniac, blood running from his nose. That sound only seems to piss Blaze off more.
“Stop!” I shout, running toward them. I don’t want Blaze getting hurt or making this worse. Someone shoves me back roughly and I nearly lose my balance.
“I’ll fucking shoot!” a voice snaps behind me. I freeze as I feel the cold press of a gun barrel against the side of my head.
Blaze spins around instantly, eyes wild with rage at whoever is holding the gun to me.
“Goddamn it, Blaze, you hit hard,” the guy on the ground laughs again, wiping blood from his face like this is all some game.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Blaze steps closer, fists still clenched.
“I was playing chicken,” the guy says, still laughing manically. “Thought he was just some punk kid on a dirt bike.”
Blaze looks like he’s about to swing again. His whole body is vibrating with fury.
“D-don’t,” I whisper, terrified.
“Are you serious?” Blaze snarls at the guy. “He could have fucking killed you, so I should kill him.”
“Can I at least have a sandwich first? Last meal and all?”
“Fuck sake, Joker!” someone else snaps from the group.
“You can eat my fucking fist if you mock him again,” Blaze growls dangerously.
I still don’t move. The gun is still pressed coldly against my head, and my heart is hammering so hard I can barely breathe.The guy glances from me to Blaze, then back to me. “Dylan, by any chance?”
I nod slowly.
“What the fuck do you have him riding that shit for? I assumed he was just some fucking punk.”
“That I fucking saved?” Blaze snaps, still vibrating with rage.
The guy laughs and holds his hands up. “No harm meant. I was simply playing chicken. I was going to move at the last minute. I didn’t know it was your partner.”
“Yeah, well now you fucking do. So move the gun from his head.”
I feel the cold barrel finally pull away from my temple. My shoulders sag in relief, but it doesn’t last long. The guy, Joker, turns and walks straight up to me. Before I can react, his arms are wrapped around me in a crushing hug.
“Nice to meet you, kid.”
I gasp, trying to break free from the iron grip.
“Fucking hell, Joker!” someone shouts. “First you try to run him off the road, now you’re trying to break him.”
Joker releases me with a loud laugh. “He handles Blaze. I know he won’t break. No hard feelings, right? Just thought I’d play.”
“Yeah… sure. No hard feelings,” I mutter.
Joker beams and claps me on the shoulder before heading back to his bike. Blaze steps in front of him, blocking his path.
“Mock him again and I’ll slit your throat.”
“Hey, no mocking. I swear,” Joker says, still grinning. “I know the rules. He’s claimed. He’s protected by your club and ours.” He hops on his bike. “Guess I should make Echo aware I caused some issues.” He chuckles and rides off with som of them following.
One of the remaining guys sighs and looks at Blaze. “In his defence, we did think it was just some random kid on a dirt bike. Sorry though. He took it too far. You know how Joker is, he’s like a fucking Echo.”
He nods at both of us and leaves with the last of the bikes.
The second they’re gone, Blaze is on me. He grabs my face with both hands, checking me over frantically.
“I’m fine,” I whisper, trying to slap his hands away.
“You’re fine? You could have fucking died!” He’s still shaking with leftover adrenaline. “I swear down I’ll kill that fucking asshole.”
“No you won’t,” I whisper.
He grumbles something under his breath. “That was the Cursed Kings’ main guys. They came to talk about your father’s plan, work together to get shit fixed.”
I nod. “Then I guess we should get back. You’re needed there.” I reach for my bike but he stops me.
“It’s ruined. Just climb on mine.” He pauses, voice dropping. “Oh, and Dylan… next time you go against my fucking orders, you won’t sit for a week.”
“Does that mean I’m free this time?” I smirk as I climb on behind him.
“Hell fucking no.” He reaches back and slams my visor down.
Guess I’m not skipping punishment.