Anneliese

 

I didn’t walk to his motorcycle.

I practically ran.

Then I fumbled with the helmet.

He took it from my hands, shoved it over my head, threw his leg over his bike and started the engine while he put his own helmet on.

I was holding one of his shoulders and getting on behind him while trying to secure the helmet with my other trembling hand when his voice came through the built-in speaker. “Chin strap’s already threaded. Left side. Pull it secure. Now.” He revved the engine.

I did as he said, and we shot into traffic, narrowly missing two other vehicles.

My scream was involuntary as I grabbed him around the waist. “Kilo!”

“Know what I’m doing, beautiful. Hang on tight.”

Literally cutting sideways across oncoming traffic, he wove in between speeding cars as horns blared. Like we were on a rapid seesaw, the bike, our bodies, they angled back and forth as he took on even more speed.

Then he did the last thing I was expecting.

He started talking. Casually.

“You dress like money. Well-bred. Sexy as fuck, but reserved. Dig the beige biker chick outfit. Looks good. But wouldn’t have known you were a city cat unless I saw it on you.” Glancing over his shoulder, he changed lanes. “The bike too.” He accelerated. “Those landscapes painted a different picture.”

My heart racing, my hands clammy, resisting the urge to look behind us, I barely managed a reply. “Of?”

“Not a woman who’d been drugged, kidnapped, beaten, and was hypothermic, not asking for shit except a toothbrush.” He took an on-ramp for one of the highways.

“I’d vomited.”

He cut across traffic to the fast lane. “That was the least of your problems.”

Horns blared. “It didn’t feel like it.”

“Like I said, different picture.” He checked his rearview mirrors. Then he sped around a sedan, cut in front of it and dropped back on its opposite side, effectively using it for cover as he looked behind us again.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I followed his glance.

Three cars back, gunning its engine, a big black SUV was aiming right for us. Then it passed under one of the highway lights, and for a brief half of a second, I got a glance at a dark-haired driver.

Oh my God, the driver.

Was that the henchman? No. No, no, no. “Kilo, the SUV, the driver—”

“Ready to trust me?”

Oh God. “Please, stop.” If that was the henchman, we needed help. We needed help.

“Why? You gonna get off and walk?”

Was he insane? “No, I meant—”

“Then hang on.”

I looked back again. “Kilo!” No, no, NO. “He’s gaining on us.” My pounding heart started to physically hurt. “Go faster.”

“Stop turning around. If there’s something to worry about, I’ll tell you. Trust me.” He eased off the throttle. On the highway.

I seriously panicked. “Don’t slow down! He’s chasing us.”

“I got that.”

No, he didn’t. “You don’t understand.” My voice climbed with my fear. “You don’t know who that is.”

“I know exactly who that fuck is.” Something coated his tone.

“Then please, please, call the police, the people you work with—someone.” Anyone. “You don’t understand. There’ll be more of them.”

“Handling it.”

He gunned it, cut across two lanes, and we flew off the exit ramp.

I couldn’t not look back.

The black SUV missed the exit.

A fraction of relief came, but it was short-lived.

He sped through the intersection, narrowly avoiding oncoming traffic, and immediately took the highway’s entrance ramp across the street.

Flying up the incline, going twice the speed limit, a Navy SEAL revved the superbike’s engine as he wove in and out of traffic like a pendulum and caught up to the SUV.

Fear constricting my throat, terrified we would crash, clutching an insane breacher who jumped off yachts and played chicken with cartel henchmen, I didn’t have time to find my voice to scream.

Watching in horror, powerless to stop it, I held on as he accelerated right up to the rear of the black SUV.

Then he did four things in rapid, precise succession.

Swerving into the SUV’s blind spot on its left side, reaching out with his right hand, he slapped a familiar white putty on the rear quarter panel, then he revved the bike.

We came up alongside the driver’s window, and everything turned into slow motion.

Furious, Andros glared at us.

Fear escaped my throat.

A SEAL issued an order. “Hold on.” He went full throttle.

We shot past them.

The SUV gunned it.

We cut across three lanes.

The SUV followed.

We exited onto a two-lane road.

Andros kept coming.

We flew past other cars.

Then a breacher did what he did best.

Holding the bike steady, he grabbed a cell from his pocket and swiped three times before shoving the phone back into his jacket.

The explosion lit up the night sky. The force shoved at the bike. The SUV flew end over end in a giant ball of flames.

For the second time that night, a blast wave went through my body.