Page 36 of Snared Rider

“He ran us off the road,” I whisper, tugging at my gloves. I need them off. My hands are hurting. She takes pity on me and helps me undo the Velcro, but her eyes stay locked on mine.

“He ran you off the road?” There’s a hint of incredulity in her tone; I don’t blame her. If I hadn’t witnessed it myself I wouldn’t believe it happened either.

“Beth!” Dean’s worried yell has my head lurching in his direction. He’s on his feet, his helmet removed, blood running down the side of his temple. Still, he’s on his feet, which makes my anxiety levels fall a smidge.

“You’re alive,” I wail as he drops onto his knees next to me. I want to throw my arms around him and hug him tight but sitting up is taking all my strength as it is. Any sudden movements are likely to result in me projectile vomiting. “Are you hurt?”

I look for bullet wounds and see none. The only injury he seems to have is the cut to his head.

“Yeah, darlin’; I’m fine. Unlike you, I didn’t get real up close and personal with the road.”

He pushes my fumbling fingers out of the way to help me with the chin strap of my helmet and carefully pulls it off my head.

“Are you sure you should be doing that?” The woman trying to help me sounds a tad shrill. “What if she has a neck injury?”

Dean glances at the woman, as if noticing her for the first time. “If she had a neck injury she wouldn’t be sitting up, would she?”

The woman recoils at his tone, then seems to notice his kutte for the first time. She pales and shifts back from us, but to her credit doesn’t flee the scene shrieking.

I scan the road. The bike is a mangled mess, metal limbs strewn across the carriageway, but against all the odds we’re still here, still breathing.

“Dean,” I lick dry lips. “That man—”

His finger goes to my mouth and I read it clearly: quiet for now. “Let’s just concentrate on you, yeah?”

His voice is heavy with meaning. It’s a signal not to talk in front of the civilians. I nod, but when we’re alone we’re definitely talking about this because that man tried to murder us, and I want to know why.