Chapter 35 #2
Revving the bike, I smoothly pull the sleek machine out in front of the others, the rumble of their engines behind me a balm to my soul. I might not feel as if I’m in control of much these days, but at least I’m in control of this beast beneath my thighs.
Once we are out on the open road, all the tension leaves my body, and I finally relax.
Perhaps it’s a good idea to get some physical space between me and Camile.
If she wasn’t around, would I be able to stop obsessing about her?
I can’t picture it. Even if she was a thousand miles away, I still wouldn’t be able to get her out of my mind.
If anything, I’d become worse not being able to see her or speak to her or touch her.
I picture myself pining away like a heartbroken teenager, unable to eat or sleep.
No, I need her near.
I curve my body into the bends of the road, feeling like I’m flying. The engines of the others roar behind me, and the sense of camaraderie I always get on a run with the men fills me.
This is what life is about, and it’s about time I remembered it. We haven’t been making sure to keep up this side of our life, and it matters. It’s what the MC is built around.
As I round another sharp, hairpin bend, I frown. The road is wet in front of me. There is not time though to brake or avoid it, and I hit the water.
Horror fills me. My bike swerves heavily to the side, and I know… it’s not water. It’s oil.
Fuck.
Arm and thigh muscles burning with the effort, I struggle to control my bike and keep her upright, but she skids across the oil. The wheels go out from under me, taking me down. My right leg is pinned to the road, and pain screams through me as I’m dragged along the asphalt.
Time seems to slow, and I find myself thinking of the men behind me, hoping they saw what happened and can avoid the same fate.
Then something slams into me and shunts my bike heavily into the steep bank at the side of the road. The heavy metal finally sets me free, but as I bump and slam against the asphalt, it’s no comfort. I hit the bank hard enough to jar every bit of my body and finally come to a stop.
My head is spinning, and I can’t look around to see what’s happening because the earth is rotating around me like I’m in freefall.
The scream of metal and the whine of engines finally dies down. I push to sitting, willing the spinning to stop so I can take stock of how we are doing.
Everyone has come off their bikes, except for Ghost, who was bringing up the rear.
It’s a fucking mess. I don’t think we’ve ever wiped out like this before.
Our bikes are mangled, and several men look hurt.
Rook and Phoenix pick themselves up, but others moan in pain, and Zoo cries, “What the fuck, man?”
With a grunt of effort, I stand and stare at the oil slick, disturbed by the sheer size of it. This doesn’t look like an accidental leak of oil, this looks… purposeful.
The moment that thought hits, pop, pop, pop rings out from the woods opposite us.
“Get down,” I shout to my men.
My hand goes for my gun, but I’m still disoriented. Something zings across my leg, nothing major, just some shrapnel, I imagine. It feels like a bee sting.
A sharp bend right behind us, a deep curve ahead on the road, plus a steep bank to our backs, and the woods to our front means we’re trapped.
Two more pops ring out, and one of our men goes down. Shit.
Finally, freeing my weapon, I train it on the woods, trying to figure out any movement.
Four men break from the tree line, all massive and wearing masks.
I raise my arm to discharge my weapon in their direction, and all hell breaks loose.
Bullets rain down on us. Rook and the men who have come off their bikes are moving, backing up toward where I am and providing a kind of human shield around me as they encircle me.
Why are they trying to protect me? It’s my job to protect them.
I step forward to stand with them, but with a shocked grunt go down to the ground. I stare at my leg where the bee sting hit and gawp. There’s a large gunshot wound to my thigh. Fuck me, how come I didn’t feel it?
The next moment, I wished I still didn’t feel it because the pain hits in a sickening inferno of intensity.
“Prez is hit,” Rook says. “Cover him.”
The four men in masks stride toward me, but Rook and the others unload their weapons, causing them to track to the side.
Ghost is off his bike now, using it as a shield to shoot from.
Maybe we will be okay, but a shout behind me has me turning to see four more men running down the embankment.
It means Ghost is exposed in a way I’m not, because I have men in an entire circle around me.
About to bark out an order, something hits me right in the chest, taking every single millimeter of breath in my lungs away.
I grasp at my cut, trying to pull it away from me so I can get some air in. Why can’t I fucking breathe?
There are bullets flying, and screams and shouts, and through it all, the only thing I can think of is Camile. Are they at the compound, too?
Have I failed again?
My vision swims, the world tilts on its axis, and I hit the ground.
My eyes are still open, so I witness two men grabbing Ghost, who for some reason is as limp as a ragdoll, and dragging him toward a car that just pulled up.
They throw him into the back and dive in themselves before it reverses and turns around, driving away from us the way we’d come.
This can’t be the Revenants because I just don’t believe for a minute they’d do this.
There’s only one other group of people who could be responsible, but for some reason I can’t seem to think of their name.
It’s right there, hovering in the back of my brain, but I can’t seem to grasp it. What’s wrong with me?
“Who do you think is behind this?” I ask Rook, hoping he’ll have the answer. It has to do with Camile. I know that much. And Rook is also to do with Camile… The pieces try to fit themselves together in my addled brain.
He doesn’t answer, but he’s staring down at me. “Rook?” I ask again.
Weird. I’m speaking but no sound is coming out.
Rook’s pale face and wide eyes are freaking me out.
He’s saying something, and as I come back online a little, I realize he’s begging me to hold on. Hold on to what? His hand?
Camile has got such nice hands. Petite, like her. I hope Ace is looking after her.
A small smile plays about my lips, and a shiver runs through me. It really is cold out here. So incredibly cold.
“Prez? Fucking hell, Prez hold on, all right? Help is on its way.” Rook’s voice is panicked.
There’s something I need to tell him, but as I try to meet his gaze, my eyes drift closed, and the noise around me fades, until there’s nothing but dark silence.
I sink gladly into the oblivion offered to me.
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In running to the MC’s President for protection, I might have signed his death warrant…
When the Riders took me in, I thought I’d finally found somewhere I belonged.
I should have known better.
I threw a hand grenade into their structured hierarchy as I rebelled against my strict upbringing, and found myself falling for more than one of the hardened bikers.
Ace with his soft heart and wild ways. Rook my friend, and so much more. Even Ghost, the distant, mysterious one. We became entangled in each other, and now we can’t stop.
Yet, I still can’t fully break through to the one man I ache for. Jack McGrath; their President, and my best friend’s father. His gaze burns for me, but he holds me at arm’s length, refusing to give in to the connection between us, no matter what it costs.
As I finally begin to break down the walls around his heart, tragedy strikes. My enemies resurface, and this time, they aren’t only hunting me.
The people who want me are coming for the Riders…
And aiming straight for the men I love.