Jake walked out the fire exit after Lucy, and for a moment couldn’t see which way she’d gone. The night was dark and chilly, eerie after so many long days of summer. Instead, his eye was drawn to the lights of a lone biker. The guy drove slowly, the low bubble of noise his engine made odd against the usual roar of Wilde’s. As Jake watched, the bike drew up behind a woman who had just come into view under the spill of light from a streetlamp. The concrete around Jake’s heart cracked, and sharp shards of it pricked at his veins. The woman turned. Lucy. The biker paused and the guy got off, leaving his helmet on. Lucy faced him, animated, hands on her hips, then, oh shit, the biker grabbed her.
“Lucy!”
The biker’s head turned and Lucy took the opportunity to try to kick him, but he dodged and pressed something over her face. Quickly, too quickly, she stopped struggling and the biker crammed a helmet onto her head, loaded her slumped form onto the front of his bike, and took off.
Unable to believe what he’d seen, Jake shook his head, then as the taillights started to get smaller he ran toward where the bikes were parked out in front of Wilde’s. “Lend me your bike. Some fucker has just grabbed Lucy and he wasn’t wearing a Hell’s jacket. Tell Hade.”
The Hell’s Boy who had just stumbled out of the bar and put his keys in his bike started to protest, but Jake didn’t let him get very far, grabbing the helmet, jamming it on, and roaring off after Lucy.
Blinking hard, Jake pushed everything out of his head except the chase. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except catching up to Lucy. He could do this. He would do this.
He let the world flick by faster and faster, always keeping his eyes on the taillight in front of him. Luckily, it was an industrial area and wasn’t crowded with traffic like the rest of LA. Revving the engine hard, Jake tried for that elusive sweet spot where the world stopped and only the wind remained, and little by little he started making headway on the biker in front of him.
What the hell had he been thinking ripping into her like that? He should have locked her in his room until she registered just who she was toying with. Bike gangs didn’t screw around, Hade had made that much clear. And now Jake understood just what Hade had meant. Kidnapping? Out in front of the Hell’s hangout? It had to be the Reapers of Menace. The boys in the Menace had balls, that was for sure.
“Be okay. Just be okay,” he muttered under his breath, the thought of her slumped, without the ability to protect herself, on the front of someone’s bike threading fear through every part of his body.
The guy was a good rider, but he wasn’t a stunt rider. Jake’s stunt-brain unconsciously calculated the amount of risk with each turn, and followed slightly faster knowing he could keep the bike steady. Ahead of him, the other biker took a sharp right turn and Jake followed. Using every bit of his training, Jake roared up beside him and started to crowd him over to the side of the alley. The biker kept flicking his glance over his shoulder and Jake knew he had to be careful: he’d gotten to him, unnerved him, and this is where everything could go horribly wrong.
You push him too hard and he’ll spin out, then it’ll be Lucy in a mess on the ground without you there to catch her. He backed off, just a little. But finally, Jake spotted his opportunity. Around the next bend, the alley ahead stopped at a dead end.
Not allowing himself to think about it too hard, Jake pulled his bike into a sideswipe, letting it straddle the alley, and lay it on the ground, blocking the way out for the other biker. Ahead of him, the Menace was already at the end, his head moving side to side, obviously looking for an escape and seeing none. He pulled his bike into a turn and revved the engine. Jake started walking steadily toward him. Unless the guy was a pro, there was no way he was getting his bike to jump over Jake’s, and Jake was damn sure the guy wasn’t a pro. One foot in front of the other, he walked toward the now-stationary bike, its engine whining with the need to escape. Pulling off his helmet, Jake started talking, hoping the guy could hear him despite the noise.
“I’ve got no argument with you. Just let the girl go and we’re good.”
The rev of the engine was the only answer he got.
“Lucy? Lucy, can you hear me?” She stirred, but didn’t lift her head properly and Jake’s body clenched, fear drawing thorns out of his skin. Then, the biker took off toward him.
You are a sea of calm. You maintain control.
The dark walls of the alley blurred around him as he focused in on the biker, on rooting his feet into the ground, as the bright headlight bore down on him.
You are solid. An immovable rock. Jake stood still, his helmet in his hand in front of him, his eyes never leaving the biker’s black visor. The world slowed.
The biker was in perfect focus. Jake could see his hands clenched on the brakes, his legs tucked in tight to the body of the bike. The night closed around them, but fingers of fear never had a chance to get a grip on him even as the bike seemed set on mowing him down. Jake sidestepped the bike at the last moment but threw his helmet at the guy’s head, knocking him off. And in almost the same move, Jake grabbed for Lucy.
The biker fell, but the bike and Lucy flew. Flew through the night as the bike’s wheel hit the alley wall and Lucy left the seat; soared as the engine kept up its incessant charge and sparks spun out as its chrome tank shredded itself across the tarmac; spun as Lucy’s elbow connected with the wing mirror. And the chassis. And the handlebars.
And then Jake grabbed her. He put himself in her way, and she flew at him. Her head snapped back as she slammed into Jake’s chest and shoulder, knocking him over and leaving him behind her as she rolled for what seemed like forever until with a crack, her helmet connected with the alley wall, and she crumpled.