Seventeen
Regan
Rook was still following me. I hadn’t been sure if he had truly grown bored with me, but then I got home last night to find the box of cookies on my pillows and knew they were from him.
So instead of waiting around for him to show up again, I decided it was time that I did a little stalking myself. I didn’t know much about him, and I couldn’t find anything about when the next Syndicate bike night would be. He had mentioned that he and his friends owned a motorcycle shop in town and I knew what his bike looked like, so I felt like I had a pretty good chance of finding him.
The driver pulled up, and I slid into the back seat. He had driven me a few times, so I knew him well enough, but I still leaned forward, ready to give him instructions. “I have to do something today that I would prefer my dad not know about. Is that an issue?”
“No, ma’am. Not an issue at all. You called me for the day. I work for you today.”
“Perfect. I want to start by driving past a few shops. Then we might be out for the day. I’m not sure yet.”
“Not a problem,” he said, pulling out. “Just tell me where to go first.”
We drove around for another two hours, and I still had no luck. We had gone past three different mechanic shops which were definitely not Rook’s, and I got more frustrated with each one. We were headed back across town when I saw the bike a few cars ahead of us.
“Wait!” I yelled before the driver turned. “Follow that guy.”
“On the bike?”
“Yeah, stay close to him.”
The bike wasn’t blacked out like Rook’s, but something about it still caught my attention. Then I realized the helmet and jacket matched the one Rook wore. It wasn’t a far-fetched idea to think he had multiple bikes, but I still wasn’t sure it could be him.
We followed for a few blocks, watching as he weaved through traffic before we would catch back up to him. Another three blocks and we were right behind him, waiting for the light to change so we could turn left.
The rider hit the kickstand, leaning the bike to get off. I held my breath as he walked back to my car, opening his jacket and pulling out a gun as he used it to tap on the driver’s window.
“Why are you following me?” he asked, setting the gun along the windowsill.
“He’s not looking for anyone!” I yelled, feeling bad for my driver. “I am!”
His head cocked, the helmet still not showing me if it was Rook, but I was almost positive it was. He stood back up, taking a few steps to the back door and pulling it open. He leaned down in the open door, not saying a word as he watched me.
Finally, he pulled off the helmet. Dark hair fell over his forehead, the angry, tired look in his eyes almost making me feel bad for how tired he seemed.
“Rook,” I breathed in relief.
“Are you stalking me, Rebel?”
“Trying, but you are hard to find.”
“Yeah, I do that on purpose. You going to keep following me?”
“Yes.”
He smirked. “Interesting. Fine.” He slid out, slamming the door shut. The window to the driver had stayed open, and Rook leaned down to him. “I suggest staying back at the next stop. I would hate for anything to happen to her.”
The driver only nodded, quiet as Rook headed back to the bike and got on. The light had already changed back to red, but Rook took off anyway.
“Follow him!” I yelled, watching him speed down the road.
We stayed close for another ten minutes before Rook pulled up to a warehouse. He swung off his bike and glanced back at me. The small cutesy wave was a harsh contrast to the gun in the other hand. I stayed frozen in my seat, watching as he walked in. He was gone for maybe ten minutes. One loud pop echoed around us, and then he walked out, getting on the bike and pulling out like nothing had happened.
“Was that a gunshot?” I asked, not really knowing if the driver would give me an answer.
“I believe so,” my driver said, pulling out after him, winding through town until we pulled up in front of one of the motorcycle shops. I felt like I had barely taken a breath the entire time, the anticipation killing me.
