Page 77 of Cherry Moon

Black-and-gold after a glow up, thrumming between my legs, Cindy tore along the long stretch of road. Fields whipped past me, the wind glorious in my face, the sense of freedom immense.

Man, I’d missed my best girl.

Bob and Rose ran on either side of us, keeping pace with Cindy. Always there, forever my awesome babies.

Feels like old times.

Back in the day, me and my motorbike would tear through the streets of London on a hunt. Just us, getting shit done.

“Remember who you are.”

Baker. Brother. Biker.

Husband.

I gunned the throttle, picking up speed. “Let’s go, Cindy!”

G whooped behind me.

The SCU were hot on our tail. We’d slipped out, being a bit reckless. Fuck it. We’d take the bollocking later with good grace.

I could do anything with G by my side. He made the world shine. The absolute best of the best.

And mine.

All. Mine.

As for my fears, well, they wouldn’t be going anywhere, probably never would. But this Cherry Moon, and Riku, had shown me what I had to live for now, how life didn’t follow a straight road.

And that I wasn’t a pawn.

Fear of loss was valid. It came with being alive. But that didn’t mean shying away from everything else. I wouldn’t let it dimmish loving G, my family, and taking the joys of the world by the horns.

Having a positive outlook negated darkness. I didn’t have my head up my own arse. I knew some serious bullshit lingered on the horizon, and that wouldn’t change. But give me all the fruits of existence for the between-the-headache times.

I couldn’t wait for more of the awesome.

Just call me an overfilled donut, happy jam oozing everywhere.

Erm, maybe get a new analogy.

This Cherry Moon had been one of renewal. Helping me reconnect and understand myself better, finding some of those lost parts again. It brushed away the cobwebs, showing me the bigger picture.

My kind of bigger picture.

Nothing would break me.

Nothing would stop me.

Chicken blobs appeared on the road ahead.

I grinned, fervent hunger for their demise on full heat.

G drew a katana for me, my holder strapped to his back for practical reasons. He handed it to me, then pulled out his gun.

Of course we came armed. We weren’t that reckless.

Keeping a hand on Cindy’s throttle, I relished in the adrenaline rush. “Ready for this, hubby?”

“Let’s take them down!”

Full speed ahead, we launched ourselves into a fight.

Because I remembered who I was.

Akira Murakami.

Baker.

Life-liver.

Married.

Your worst fucking nightmare.

Man, it felt so good to be back.

The End