Page 14 of Nitro (Redline Kings MC #3)
JANA
E ver since Torin tore out of here after Jax called, my concentration had been shattered. I needed to stop wondering what the hell he was up to and remember why I was here.
I’d come to Crossbend to carve out a place in the racing circuit that no one could take from me.
And I was doing it. I’d earned a spot and held my own against men twice my size.
Car or bike, I’d beat them all. The lap times didn’t lie.
My name was now out there, and people were starting to take notice.
But somewhere along the way, it had stopped being just about racing. Torin had tangled himself up in everything I thought I wanted.
I couldn’t tell if I was losing my independence…or if this was the first time I’d truly been building something of my own. With Torin.
More than just being a racer and proving I could survive on my own.
It would’ve been easier if the sabotage attempts had rattled me enough to run. But Torin had stepped in like it was already decided. As though he’d tear the world apart before he let anyone touch me.
Then, before he left, he told me I wouldn’t need to worry about anyone messing with my ride again.
I hadn’t asked what he meant. Because deep down, I didn’t really want to know.
Torin was good to me. Patient when I bristled. Relentless when I tried to push him away. Maybe even my own personal hero, though the thought made my stomach twist. He wasn’t anything like the men in my father’s club—bikers who used their cuts as an excuse to control and destroy.
Torin’s claim on me didn’t feel like a cage. It felt like a shield.
And that was dangerous.
Because if I believed in him and he failed me, I wasn’t sure I’d survive putting myself back together again.
I shook myself out of my deep thoughts and noticed that The Pit was unusually quiet.
There was no revving of engines or clatter of tools.
No gruff laughter or sharp curses echoing off the concrete walls.
Just the faint tick of cooling bikes and the hum of the overhead fans that barely cut through the heavy night air.
My gaze darted to the ZX, and a reckless idea hit me. I needed space. Just a ride to clear my head. If I didn’t get out from under the weight pressing on me, I was going to crack wide open.
My pulse thudded harder with every step as I slipped my helmet off its hook, clutching it against my chest like a lifeline.
The bay doors were rolled down halfway, leaving just enough room to slip through with the racing bike. My boots scuffed against the concrete, loud in the hush, announcing every nervous step.
I held my breath when the night breeze hit me, cool against my heated skin, teasing me with the promise of freedom.
I was three steps from the exit when a shadow peeled away from the wall. Broad shoulders, leather cut catching the faint light, eyes sharp and unyielding. Torin.
He blocked the gap like he’d been waiting for me.
The hair on my arms prickled. My grip on the ZX’s handlebars tightened until my knuckles went white.
“You running from me, sweetheart?”
I forced a laugh, but it cracked at the edges. “Not running. I just…needed some air.”
His gaze flicked to the death grip I had on the ZX, then back to my face. I felt exposed, every story I wanted to spin unraveling under the weight of those dark eyes.
“I don’t cage easily, Torin.” I lifted my chin, trying to sound steady when my hands were shaking and my chest was too tight. “Sometimes I just need space.”
He stepped closer, erasing the remaining distance between us. His hair was damp, and the scent of leather and musk clung to him, wrapping around me. And tempting me to throw myself in his arms.
“You can have all the space you want, Jana,” he murmured, his dark eyes burning into mine. “But not if it means leaving me behind.”
“I—” My throat went dry. Because he got me. And the dangerous truth was that going for a ride with him sounded even better than escaping alone.
His hand came up slowly and slid under my chin. The rough pad of his thumb brushed my jaw, tilting my face until I had no choice but to meet his eyes.
My pulse thrashed against my throat, desperate and traitorous.
“You want out?” His voice was low steel, every word shaped like a promise and a warning all at once. “Say it. Tell me that you don’t want to be mine.”
The challenge slammed into me.
I opened my mouth, ready to throw up the wall I’d been clinging to since the day I met him. If I pushed him away now, maybe I’d be able to keep the last pieces of myself intact.
But the sound wouldn’t come. Because my body already knew the truth.
I wanted to protect myself the way I always had. Except Torin was the first man who had ever chosen me, fully and without apology. So I couldn’t lie to him.
“I—” My voice cracked. I swallowed hard, trying again. “I should?—”
His grip stayed firm, holding me steady when I would’ve looked away. His thumb stroked along the edge of my jaw again, patient in a way that undid me more than his roughest touches ever had.
The words withered on my tongue.
Torin’s lips curved into that crooked, dangerous smile that always made me feel like I stood too close to the fire. “That’s what I thought.”
Heat and relief tangled in my chest. I leaned into his hand and finally confessed, “I don’t want out.”
Torin’s crooked smile deepened at my confession, satisfaction etched into every hard line of his face. He dipped his head and claimed my mouth, the kiss rough at first, then easing into something that made my heart clench. It was a reward and a promise, sealed with heat.
When he pulled back, his breath brushed my cheek. “You wanna go for a ride, sweetheart? You do it with me.”
Before I could answer, he moved. Torin swung the ZX out of the bay and rolled it over to where his Harley waited, chrome catching the glow of the overhead lights. Then he turned to me, one brow arched. “Your call. Back of mine…or on your own.”
I should’ve chosen the ZX. My independence demanded it. But when my gaze locked on his—dark and steady—I heard myself say, “With you.”
His grin flashed, slow and dangerous. “Good girl.”
The words shouldn’t have made me melt. But they did. Especially when he patted the seat behind him, casual and commanding all at once.
“I haven’t been on the back of anyone’s bike since I was a kid. Not since I learned to ride on my own.”
The admission dragged up the old memory of my father steadying the handlebars of that clunky dirt bike. For one fleeting afternoon, he’d been a decent dad. But like everything with him, it hadn’t lasted.
I shoved the thought down before it could fester because this wasn’t the same. Torin wasn’t the kind of man who gave you a taste of stability only to rip it away. I had the feeling that when he put a woman on his bike, it was a vow.
His eyes gleamed with approval. “Then I’ll be your first in this, too.”
My cheeks filled with heat at the reminder of the sexier firsts I’d shared with him. “Mm-hmm.”
He swung a leg over the Harley and glanced back with a grin. “And you’ll be the first woman I’ve ever put on the back of mine.”
That admission hit me like a spark catching tinder. He didn’t hand out pieces of himself freely. Which meant this was more than just a ride. It was a claim, public and undeniable.
Sliding onto the leather seat behind him, I wrapped my arms around his waist. Heat radiated through his cut, the hard muscle beneath pressing against my palms. When I rested my cheek between his shoulder blades, the world narrowed to the steady thrum of his heartbeat and the scent of leather, fuel, and Torin.
The Harley rumbled to life, the vibrations shooting through me as he guided us out of the garage. Cool night air whipped against my face as the city blurred past. Neon lights faded into dark stretches of highway, the roar of the engine drowning out every doubt I’d been clinging to.
Pressed against him as the world rushed by felt like the safest place I’d ever been. His hand brushed mine once, a silent reassurance, and my chest squeezed so tight I thought it might break open.
I had thought I needed distance. But the longer I held Torin, the more I understood that running wouldn’t make a difference. I was already his.