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I don’t know if I should be relieved or nervous when I spot a motorcycle speeding toward me, its gleaming headlight so bright it temporarily blinds me. It gradually slows down in front of me until it comes to an abrupt stop. Haze kills the engine and hops off his bike, removing his helmet. He runs a hand through his waving-in-the-night-breeze messy hair, still managing to look like he came right out of a movie, might I add. Cue the slow motion and music.
“Hey,” he says.
I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Our eyes meet for a second, but his hastily abandon mine when I get up from the bench. He’s looking at my dress. No, scratch that—he’s staring.
“Well, someone is enjoying making an entrance.”
“Get on.” His tone makes it clear he’s not asking.
Houston, we have a problem. That was not part of the plan.
“Why?” I ask.
“This place is the ultimate place to get attacked, Kingston. That’s why.” He hands me a spare helmet. My thoughts are going a thousand miles an hour.
I try to buy myself some time. “What makes you say that?”
“It’s empty. Isolated. You’re lucky nothing happened to you.” His eyes fall to my dress again as he bites the inside of his cheek. “Especially dressed like that.”
I feel my face heat up as my gaze drops to the floor. Well, he definitely noticed.
“Why would I trust you? If I recall, last time I followed you, your brother—”
“My brother was wrong,” he interrupts. “And I’m sorry for what he did to you, but if you want to talk about it, you’ll have get on and let me take you somewhere safe.”
I glance at the helmet in my hand.
What choice do I have? If I insist on staying in the park from hell, he might get suspicious and figure out that we’re not alone.
“Fine.”
Next thing I know, I’m sitting on the back of his motorcycle, holding on to him tightly. Haze Adams or not, I don’t want to die today.
We take off in a roar as I hold my breath. I don’t dare turn around to see if Will and Alex are following us. I’m afraid even just the slightest movement would mean falling off and possibly breaking every bone in my body. Because that’s how lucky I am.
Our speed increases with every turn, and it almost seems like he enjoys my grasp getting tighter around him.
Then he says the one thing I feared.
“I think we’re being followed.”
I take a deep breath and finally turn my head to see the glimmering lights of Will’s car in the distance. They are keeping a huge gap between us. I have no idea how Haze even noticed.
“Why do you think that? They’re so far away.”
“That’s the best way not to be noticed while following someone. Plus, they started their car at the exact same time we left. They’re following us.”
“What do we do?” I mentally curse. He has no idea how much better I feel knowing they’re following us.
“Now…” He pauses. “Hold on tight.”
If I thought we were going fast before, I’d obviously never experienced Haze’s “getting away from the bad guys” driving. My breath gets lodged in my throat when he takes an unexpected turn to lose them. The car manages to turn, too, but not without difficulties.
“I’ll lose them, don’t worry,” he says.
Oh the irony.
“Just so you know, if you kill me, I’m coming back to haunt your ass,” I let out, holding on to him so tight I’m guessing it must be hard to breathe.
