Page 65 of The Better Bride
Chapter 24
Brendon
1:10 PM SATURDAY
I rev my engine, thrusting us forward into oncoming traffic. The sound of the bike muffles her screaming, but I can feel Mysti’s body pressed hard against mine.
With her hands on me and the power of the bike in my hands, I feel my cock pulsate. I’ve never felt more alive than I do right now.
“Hold the fuck on!” I scream at her, and she complies, clasping my chest.
I swerve between passing cars and try to ditch the white Cadillac by turning down random alleyways. The fucking car won’t let up. They anticipate my every move, almost as if they know exactly where I’m going even before I do.
“Who is this, Mysti!?” I yell over the engine.
“I don’t fucking know. What areyoudoing here?” She spits out.
“Saving your fucking ass. What does it look like?”
“Were you following me? Shit, Brendon!” She screams, pointing ahead at a semi-truck slamming on its brakes. I do a quick turn out of the way, avoiding running into it head on, and people honk their horns at my change of direction.
Like I give a fuck. If they had a half a mind, they’d see I’m being chased by some goddamn white Cadillac. Just get out of my way and everything will work out smoothly.
I look back, briefly, and notice the car stalled behind the semi.
Ah, yes!
I exhale, feeling some relief ease my tension. But I’m still fucking worried. Who the hell is it? Who wants to kill Mysti? And, most importantly, how did she get herself into this situation, where someone wants to killher?
I refrain from celebrating for too long, knowing that they could easily catch up to us as soon as the semi inches forward. Whoever’s behind that wheel definitely knows how to control it, and their navigation skills are topnotch. They’re someFast and the Furiousexpert-level type drivers.
Instead of slowing down, given the distance we’ve gained, I speed up, not wanting to give them any chances.
“What are you doing? We lost them!” Mysti screams at me, and pounds into my chest.
“Not likely. Hold on!” I reprimand her.
This woman should be thanking me, not criticizing me. But that wouldn’t be Mysti.
Usually, I like it when she teases me and breaks the rules, at least while we’re in play mode; but right now, with a fucking Cadillac on our ass, I am not in the mood for playing.
I zigzag through more alleyways, heading in any direction that seems far away and safe. They’re all quiet, except for one or two hobos and some stray cats, nothing that seems too menacing.
Once I feel comfortable in knowing that we’ve gained enough ground and can easily hide, I slow down and find a hidden corner from the street in one of the alleys.
“Where the fuck are we, Brendon?” She punches me in the gut.
I flinch, not expecting that, and steady my bike, making sure it’s tucked away. Ignoring her, I jump off it, balancing it on the ground, and hoist her off it by her waist.
She yelps in surprise and her limbs flail around, trying to fight against my hold.
Too bad, babe. I got you now.
Taking my helmet off, I throw it on the ground and pin her to the brick wall behind us.
“I think that’s the least of your concerns. Just be happy you’re alive,” I scold her.
Adrenaline courses through my veins and all I want to do is ram into her, claim her, and fuck the sense back into her.