Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Lacey
I do as Kevlar told me and wrap my arms around his waist. I’m terrified yet excited. When he kicks the bike to life, adrenaline pops like champagne bubbles in my veins. He glances back once, making sure I’m secure, and I nod, even as my pulse hammers everywhere.
We speed away from his apartment. It’s early, the sky bruised with purple, gold, and the flat blue of nowhere. The air is warm and salty as we roar past hotels, condos, tiki bars, and battered surf shops that look like they’ve survived more hurricanes than is statistically possible.
There are moments when riding with him feels like flying—like freedom, but there are also seconds where a turn or a jolt makes an unwanted memory flicker at the edge of my vision, a flash of faces and noise I almost recognize.
But there’s a fuzzy haze, and a fear connected to it.
Kevlar rides with the confidence of an experienced rider. Sometimes he reaches back and pats my thigh.
Part of me never wants this to end, but eventually we slow and turn down a neighborhood, coming to a stop at a house with an SUV in the driveway and a motorcycle parked out front.
The front screen door bangs against the porch as one of the guys I recognize from the club gets shoved out by a petite woman with a dark bob that frames her face.
“I can’t believe you. Asshole. Get out.”
“We were on a break,” he shouts back.
“Fuck,” Kevlar mutters, swinging a leg over his bike.
I slide off after him, unsure if I should follow him as he stomps toward them.
“Back up.” He puts a hand to the other biker’s chest.
“I want him gone,” the feisty woman shrieks.
“Go inside, sis.”
She scowls, but does as her brother asks.
“What’d you do?” he growls.
“He slept with that skank-ass stripper,” gets shouted from inside the house.
The front door swings open again, and she flings clothes out.
“Get out of here, man.” Kevlar pushes him back when he reaches for the door.
“She’s fucking crazy.”
“I’ve not shown you crazy yet?” She screeches.
I stand on the walkway, afraid to get closer.
“You’re both fucking nuts,” Kevlar deadpans. The annoyed expression he wears tells me this isn’t his first rodeo with these two. He grabs a hoodie off the steps and presses it against the guy’s leather cut. “Give her some space, Graves.”
He shakes his head and picks up the rest of his clothes, stuffing them into a black backpack. “She’s lost it. Damn nutter,” he grumbles.
“Candyce,” Kevlar barks, grabbing her under her shoulders as she kicks and lashes at Graves, trying to scratch him with her pointy red fingernails.
“See. Crazy,” Graves says as he scrambles outside of her reach.
“You’re one to talk. You’ve got two brain cells fighting for control of your tiny dick.”
“You sure loved sucking it last night. I didn’t ask her to send me nudes this morning. It’s your fault for looking at my text messages.”
“Just go,” Kevlar warns.
Graves sees me as he struts past me, having the decency to look embarrassed as he gets on his bike.
The front door slams shut.
“Come on,” Kevlar waves me forward.
I’m hesitant but follow him into the house that smells like vanilla candles and bleach. Clean.
We find his sister in the kitchen, chugging a bottle of water. She’s barefoot, wearing denim shorts and a white tee that hangs off her shoulders. Her dark hair spikes around her face like tiny knives. She looks nothing like his other sister.
“Can you believe that tool? God. I’m so stupid. I don’t know why I thought this time would be any different from the last five.” She shakes her head and slams the bottle onto the counter. “She the chick that lost her memory?”
“Yeah. This is Lacey.”
“Nice to meet you,” she tells me, and I smile.
She opens a cupboard and rifles around before coming up with a box of cereal. “You want breakfast?”
I shake my head. “Already ate.” I study her, noticing a similar set to her grin that matches Kevlar’s. A family of convincing smiles and strong attitudes, I guess.
Kevlar leans his hip against the counter. “Sorry about this morning. Didn’t mean for you to get caught up in my sister’s soap opera.”
“I’m glad you came keeps me from catching a murder charge,” Candyce says, tossing a handful of cereal into her mouth.
“I don’t look good in orange, so don’t worry, girl.
” She looks me over with a little more intensity, as if she’s searching for something.
“What brings you by, anyway? Not that I’m not happy to meet you. ”
“Thought you might have a jacket she can borrow.”
“I bet we’re the same size or close enough. Follow me.”
I follow her out of the kitchen and into a hallway that has a few laundry baskets sitting in front of a washer and dryer set next to the bathroom.
“I’ve got more clothes than I know what to do with.”
We enter her bedroom. It’s not what I was expecting.
Everything is pink and floral. Totally girly and not punk to match her hard biker bitch appearance.
“Now let’s see.” She slides hangers across the rack, muttering under her breath.
“Ah ha.” She pulls out a lightweight black leather jacket.
“Take this.” She looks down at my black sneakers.
“And you’ll want these.” She dips down and comes back up with a pair of black boots.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. I don’t need those back. So keep them.”
“I appreciate it, truly.”
“My closet needs a clean-out. I’ll drop some stuff off with Kev later. That is where you’re staying, right?”
“For now. I think.”
“Don’t worry. My brother is nothing like Graves. Fucking dickhead. I’m going to kill him.” She flips off a picture of the two of them that sits on her dresser like he can see her before she flips it face down.
“Not if I do it first,” Kevlar states from the doorway.
“See. My brother will have your back. Nothing to worry about with him.”
Kevlar says something under his breath that doesn’t register with my ears.
“If you need anything at all, have Kev call me.” She launches into a hug, wrapping her arms around me, squeezing me tight. She smells sweet, like bubblegum.
“Stay away from Graves for a bit, yeah?”
“Pfft. Whatever.”
“I mean it. All you two do is fuck and fight. It’s toxic.”
“Oh. I am so done with his ass. Can you believe him? Had his naked ass laid up in my bed getting texts from that skank-ass ho. Like I’d want his dick in me knowing it had been her. As if.”
“Okay, that’s more information than I need to hear as your brother.”
I smile to myself. “I’ll meet you outside. I’m going to swap out my shoes.” I leave them to say their goodbyes or plot Graves’ murder in private.
He comes out moments later, and we get back on his bike after shoving my other shoes and the jacket she gave me into his saddlebags.
After a few blocks the road peels wide open.
The sand dunes and palm trees have a familiarity to them, but no recollection comes into focus.
There’s just a dull ache where I hit my head.
The sensation of being watched pours over me, unsettling me.
Giving me this uneasiness in the pit of my stomach.
We don’t go to the clubhouse or back to his apartment.
We detour past a marina that hugs the water.
Boats bob gently on the water, and the sensation of water bubbling in my throat pulls at me as Kevlar pulls off on the side of the road.
I climb off the bike on shaky legs.
“You okay?” he asks, undoing the helmet latch under my chin, careful not to hit my wound as he pulls it off my head.
“Yeah. I don’t know. I had this creepy feeling. Like someone was watching us or something. And seeing the boats made me uneasy.”
“Do you think you fell overboard?”
“I don’t know. I just…” Tears blur my vision, and he pulls me against his chest.
“Hey now.” He rubs his hand over my back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
No sooner do the words leave his lips when something zips past my head.
“What was that?” I ask, but before he can answer, it happens again.
“Fuck. Get behind me.”
It happens again. A dull, wet snap sound.
A chunk of asphalt kicks up inches from my foot.
For a second, my brain empties. I don’t even register what’s happening.
I only know that Kevlar is throwing me to the ground, shielding my body with his.
His weight crushes the air out of my lungs, his hands flat on either side of my head.
“Stay the fuck down,” he hisses, eyes wild as he scans the marina.
Another sharp crack. A bullet hits the signpost next to us, splintering it. Something in my brain snaps into perfect, crystalline focus. “We’re being shot at,” I whisper, my body trembling so violently my teeth chatter.
“Yeah, sweetness. That’s the general idea.” He squeezes my arm, never looking at me. His voice is so calm, so steady, like he’s been here before. Maybe he has. Maybe he’s lived his whole life ducking gunfire.
The next shot shatters a glass bottle on the sidewalk. Kevlar’s weight shifts. He reaches to his back as he rolls off me, pulling a gun out of his waistband. “Stay here,” he growls, then moves so suddenly he’s a blur. He launches himself up and forward behind a palm tree.
Another shot rings out. Everything around me moves and sounds in slow motion. My ears buzz and my vision clouds.
I can’t breathe as panic and water fill my lungs. Not really, but I remember being in the water and unable to breathe.
But this isn’t then. This is now.
I try to catch my breath and focus on the sound of tires squealing in the distance. Kevlar steps out from behind the tree, shooting at a car as it speeds away.
He rushes over, shoving his weapon back into the back of his pants. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I think so. You?”
“Don’t worry about me.”