And it’s as he passes me that I lock eyes with him through the windshield of the black sedan. And he draws his finger across his throat and winks.
That sight sinks into my gut. This isn’t over.
“Come on, Crash, we need to get the fuck back on the road,” Blaze calls out as he strides out of the woods and toward the cargo truck.
“You’re right. Let’s go, brothers. We got fucking hours of riding ahead of us,” I call out and head toward my bike.
It feels good to be back on the leather, to feel the rumble of the engine between my legs as I crank the accelerator and guide my ride back onto the highway heading east. There’s a lengthy ride ahead of me, miles of open road, and the chance to finally redeem myself to the club by carrying out the job I set out to do.
But, no matter how far I drive, how hard I crank the accelerator and try to lose myself in the open road, I can’t shake the thoughts of her. Can’t shake the feelings that pull at my heart so hard it feels like that beating organ is about to be ripped from my chest. Can’t forget the look that was in Switchblade’s eyes as he drew his finger across his throat.
I crank the throttle harder, feeling my heart roar right along with the engine. I know that son of a bitch’s intentions. Know the violence he will mete out in retribution for what I’ve done.
Still, I have to leave that behind me. Have to focus on my mission with the club. I’ve dedicated my life to protecting and supporting my family, and I can’t slip now.
But, no matter how fast I ride, it doesn’t matter. I can’t leave behind the thoughts of her, in pain, screaming in fear as Switchblade chases her down.
An hour away from our meeting point, I turn around. It’s the only thing I can do. Because I love her and I can’t leave her to that monster.
I have a new mission, now: to finish what I started.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Violet
I’ve shed a lifetime’s worth of tears in the past week. Yet, when I see Kendra standing on my doorstep — bruised, bloody, but smiling from ear to ear — I cry even more. But these are happy tears. Tears that burst from me in joy, that erupt in laughter as I finally get to put my arms around my best friend and hug her. My best friend is back. She’s been with me through thick and thin, she’s suffered through hell, but she’s safe.
I squeeze her extra tight, despite her feeble ‘oofs’ of protest, just to reassure myself that she is real.
And, it’s while I’m in her arms, that I forget all about the heartache that’s been eating me up; I’ve lost the man I loved, lost the bar I risked everything to build, but it’s all worth it because I have my best friend back.
“Oh my god, you’re alive,” I cry into her shoulder. “I love you. I’m so happy right now.”
I don’t feel guilty about spilling tears all over her; my shoulder’s wet with her tears, too. Tears and snot that flow freely as she laugh-cries in pure happiness and relief against me.
“I can’t believe it,” she whispers. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
“You’re here now. And you’re safe. It’s all over. Come inside, let me get you something to drink. Do you want coffee or something stronger?”
“Oh, something stronger, please. I could use about a thousand drinks after all this,” she says.
It’s hard to let go of Kendra, I keep thinking she’ll disappear as soon as I release her, but I manage and, smiling so hard it hurts and sniffing back the snot and tears, I lead her into the kitchen and pour her a drink. My entire body tingles in confusion — I don’t know whether I want to break down in laughter or tears.
He did it. He really did it. He brought her back to me.
And now he’s gone.
I had a man who could’ve been a fantastic, loving partner and a fierce protector, and I lost him. No, we chased each other away. Because neither of us were willing to take that final, flying leap for love.
It’s those thoughts that tip the scales toward tears, but I don’t want to dampen Kendra’s joy at being free and alive, so I turn my back to her and pretend to pour myself a drink while I fight back the sorrow and heartache.
I have my best friend back, now. I have to focus on that.
“Where’s Josie?” Kendra says, as I turn around and take a seat across from her at the kitchen table.
“Upstairs. Sleeping. I let her watch a scary movie until she got tired. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, I’m just grateful you took care of her. I am so lucky to have you,” she says. Then, after a sip, she gives me a quizzical look. “The man that saved me, the biker, Crash, he called her ‘Speed Demon.’ Why?”
“That’s her nickname, now.”
“Oh my god, was she spending time with them?”
And, just like that, I defend the man I couldn’t chase away fast enough just hours ago.
“They were real good to her. She and Snake got along great — they both love the same movies — and Crash spent a lot of time helping her with her Goosebumps reading homework. They gave her the nickname ‘Speed
