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Chapter Eight

Nero

R iding is something that has forever put me at ease. This time, however, it feels like my heart is being slowly ripped from my body with every mile we drive.

At this point, the hunger within us is nearly overwhelming, captivated in wanting to make this girl our entire world. My brain is on board with burning the world for her, but my heart is begging me to go back to her. It’s a weird feeling, and I don’t know how to combat it.

In my entire life, I have never once let a woman dictate my choices. At this very moment, I’m wondering if my need for blood trumps my need to be at her side.

“You there, N?” Globe crackles through the mic. Like a dumbass who isn’t fully present, I nod. Then, I clear my throat.

“Yeah, just lost in my head, what’s up?” I ask, hoping that they don’t ask me about it. If they did, I honestly have no idea how I would respond.

Matteo chuckles. “With how slow you are pacing us, I would say you are definitely distracted.” A rev from behind me is the only warning I get before Globe and Matteo shoot off ahead of me. “Let’s go, the boys are taking the quick route there.”

Scoffing, I grumble, “And that’s why your bikes fucking break all the time.

” I slowly accelerate into third and then fourth gear and treat my baby with care, notching higher on the clutch with each whirl of speed.

The wind presses against my body as they race ahead of me, fighting to be in the front spot now.

The visor of my helmet fights the glare of the oncoming traffic on the other side, but when red and blue flash through the darkness, I know we are in for a treat.

“Coppers at twelve,” I roar down the line and jerk the accelerator back, kicking into fifth and sixth gear as I hit upward of seventy.

It takes a moment for me to adjust to the speed as I lean forward and cruise through cars.

The guys don’t fly out like I expect them to, so we end up uniformed until two more cops roll ahead of us.

“Shit, I’m gonna drag down the next road and hit the highway, you guys split after that!

” Matteo shouts down the comms before dropping gears so fast that his bike backfires, only for him to peel over a turn and shoot off again with a wicked laugh in his wake.

His end of the comm is static before his line beeps off.

A single officer catches notice of him, and the tires shriek as they turn abruptly.

“This is the police! Pull over!”

“Shit, you got a plan?” I ask, my hands slightly shaking. Adrenaline pumps through me, but running from the police has never been on my bucket list.

“Nope! Catch you on the flip,” Matteo laughs as he drifts around a sharp corner. Several officers go after him, and I decide I can’t risk prison.

Pushing the bike faster, I hunker down lower and swerve in and out of traffic. Horns honk, cars try to shrink together to the median in a good civilian attempt to stop me. Little do they know, I have no plans of being stopped either.

Heart beating erratically in my chest, I let the air whiz past me as I lose myself to the speed.

With how fast I’m going, the breeze rolling around me sounds like white noise.

Their lights grow darker and darker into the night as I break limits on my bike.

She’s gonna need a good scrub down when I get back to the shop, that’s for damn sure.

Peering over my shoulder to swap lanes, a black SUV speeds behind me, its lights blacked out.

Instead of hitting their lane, I ride the shoulder and speed past several vehicles.

Another look and the SUV is swerving in and out of traffic, laying on their horn and damn near running people off the road.

What the actual fuck is happening?

I can’t help but wonder if they are following me, or if it’s just coincidental that they are speeding through traffic while narrowly missing other people.

This isn’t a fucking coincidence.

Turning toward the road, I debate whether getting off the highway is worth it.

If I’m off, then I can figure out the back roads to the clubhouse.

If this person is even remotely concerned about getting caught, then they won’t act up on the highway more than they are.

With that thought, I immediately strike off that thought.

I’m obviously their target, yet not a single thought pops into my head as to why me. It doesn’t make any fucking sense.

The SUV quickly fades into the distance, the end of the back-to-back chases hitting me. Knowing I can’t keep this speed up, I start to downshift as I don’t want to risk getting injured.

Before I can register what’s happening, another SUV from the next lane merges into my lane.

The vehicle slams into my leg and the body of my bike.

I can’t stop the front tire from slamming to the side, and I’m sent flying through the air.

Time moves so quickly yet so slowly as I flail, almost as if I’m suspended for a blip in time.

Seconds later, my body slams onto the concrete, a resounding crack slamming through my head.