Page 35 of The Heir

“Whoa…” Someone yelled in the distance.

A few people shrieked and the thin crowd parted like a biblical sea, the engine becoming deafening just before the driver let off. I had just enough time to see the blur before it slid toward me broadways.

I sucked in a wild breath, and had just enough time to shift, snap my eyes shut, and brace for impact.

“Fucking show off,” Nakarii scoffed.

I opened my eyes and realized the bike was idling in front of me. I slowly followed the feminine boot up a shapely, jean-clad leg. When I saw the texture on the wine-colored undershirt, my brain clicked, and my attention snapped to Marchella’s face.

May’s laughter was full of approval, it sounded like it started in his soul before it finally climbed out of him. “Come on, you two, Blaze has business.”

“Is– Is that my bike?” I finally managed.

“Your bike. Your bitch.” May cackled, slapping me in the back so hard my teeth clicked.

“Jesus-fucking-Christ!” Lucia spat, I could hear the eyeroll in her tone before she turned and sauntered off.

His blow snapped me out of it alright, enough I spotted the two uniforms jogging our way from across the fairgrounds.

“Shit.” I shoved her back and slid onto the bike.

I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. Maybe that I wasn’t willing to spend another night in a cell? Who knows?

Whatever came over me, I hit it. She grabbed my waist like she’d been riding her whole life and I fish-tailed it through the crowd. It sounded like we’d left a flock of savages behind us, but it was only May hooping and hollering.

I didn’t know where I was going, I really didn’t. One block passed as swiftly as the next. I let off a little at the stop signs, enough to see if anything was coming, but I never really came to a stop. An old man barked at us from his front porch. I really couldn’t even say what it was he yelled, something about children or a park.

When I came to the T that meant the highway, I had no choice, I had to let off the throttle. I couldn’t hear sirens, but I really didn’t want to take any chances. Even more, I didn’t want to take chances with her.

Fuck!

I had a girl on the back of this damn thing, and I was driving like my father, as my mom was so fond of saying. My mother hated it when I rode, it was half the battle of us coming to fetch the bike to begin with. She was terrified I’d wreck. Terrified I’d like it too much and live by it like he had.

“I’m sorry,” I managed, over the roar of the engine.

“For what?” She laughed and pressed a kiss behind my ear.

“I shouldn’t have driven like that,” I called back, pulling onto the highway.

She made an amused huff and nipped at my earlobe. When she did, I heard the sirens drawing closer. I hadn’t even heard them until then.

“You’re cute. I knocked the cobwebs off of it before I picked you up. It will clear a century, and if you don’t mean to find out how that feels then you better park.”

My heart hammered and I let off just long enough to look for a turn off. I’d have taken a dirt road if one had presented itself, I really didn’t care. Those sirens weren’t fading. I was afraid they’d come into view any second.

Her hand slid over my crotch and the other slid under my shirt. I was so distracted I missed a turn off hidden by a tree line.

“Fuck,” I hissed, reaching down to steady her hand.

I opened my mouth to tell her to calm down, and the blue-and-red glinted across the mirror.

“Goddamn it,” I growled.

“Shh,” she soothed near my ear, her hand tightened at my crotch, “do it.”

My heart was racing, my pulse was drumming in my ears. I couldn’t hear the sirens. I knew they were blaring. I could see the cop car shooting toward us. The fucker saw us. There was no mistaking it, but the only thing that broke the sound of my pulse drumming was her.

That voice. The plea lingering in it. The way she held me like I was all she had left, that hand pinned over my chest. I wondered if she could feel my heart hammering in there as clearly as I knew she could feel how bricked I was. I’d never felt adrenaline like that. I was a breath away from cuffs and another case, and a stroke away from coming in my fucking pants.