AllFreeNovel
Share Us
PROLOGUE
My Harley Street Bobvibrates under me as I wait for the light to turn. I'm still in disbelief about how Kai finished the entire bottle of Patrón and was still standing upright when I walked through the door of our shared townhouse. The guy has a capacity for liquor I've never seen before and is still fully functional. But of course, I'm stuck replacing it once we run out. Allowing him behind the wheel of his Rover—functioning or not—is not something I can do with a good conscience. Thankfully, this task has become easier since June, when I turned twenty-one, and I no longer have to rely on a fake ID or bribes.
The red finally switches to green, and I'm moving again. Two more blocks until The Moose's Head. After almost twenty-four long-ass (and most of them cold as fuck) months, I'm still dumbstruck by the names of bars, restaurants, or local shops. You'd think just because we're in the Treasure State, surrounded by mountains and wildlife, we'd still have something like Whole Foods or Binney's. No, we haveThe FarmerandThe Moose's Head—TMH for the locals.
Turning off the ignition in front of the liquor store, I take in the decked-out Jeep MOAB next to me. The car screams badass. Matte black, five-percent tint all-around, black rims, light bar, chrome tube steps—that's what I call a sweet ride.
I take a step toward the double doors when a familiar ping sounds in my wireless headphones.
"Message from Rhys McGuire."
Fuck me. As if my day isn't already bad enough.
"Wes, bro, you can't avoid us forever. It's been two years. We know you got the invitation. Calla misses you. Call us," the robotic female voice reads me the text from my former best friend.
You bet your rich ass I can keep avoiding you.
They're the reason my life turned into this dumpster fire. I don't bother pulling out my phone. Seeing the words will only result in me sending it flying, and I can't afford a new one. Instead, I walk into The Moose's Head and veer toward the aisle with the hard stuff.
After this, I really need to replenish our stash. Thank fuck I brought the hiking backpack. That way, I can load up triple time.
Getting everything I need, I add a pack of Big League Chew to my liquid purchase—never heard of that shit until arriving in Podunk, Montana, but it's addicting, and now I buy it whenever I come here.
I head back to my bike, bottles clinking together on my back despite the layers of paper bags I ordered the flannel-clad clerk to wrap around them. My gaze sweeps over the Jeep. After the text, I forgot all about it.
I wonder who owns this baby.
I'm standingat the light right off of TMH's parking lot, waiting for it to turn, when I see the Jeep pull out of its spot in my side mirror.
Weird. I didn't notice anyone leaving the store behind me.
"Radioactive" by Bullet For My Valentine blares through my headphones as I drive down 19th to our house on the south side, near the university. I approach another intersection just as it turns red, and I slow the bike down. Almost stopped, I glance in the mirror and spot the Jeep speeding toward me.
What the—?
I'm about to abandon my Harley to save my ass when the driver hits the brakes and brings the car to a standstill about a foot from my rear tire, leaving skid marks on the asphalt.
Adrenaline is pulsating through my body, and my hands tighten around the handlebar. This dude is asking for it. Still riled up from the text, I wouldn't mind planting my fist in someone's face. I'm about to get off my bike to march toward the MOAB when the light switches and the jerk beeps at me.
Lucky motherfucker.
I've never been a hothead. Rhys used to be the one who tended to lose his temper in our friendship. Not that I was a pussy; I simply didn't have the desire to pick a fight. I was the jokester—the person no one took seriously—until everything was ripped from under me. The day I punched my best friend across the face…that was when I changed.
The Jeep drives behind me with less than the mandated safety distance, and I clench my jaw.
Give me a reason, fuckface.
I switch lanes as I approach Bear Court, where I have to turn left—yup, even the streets have ridiculous names here. The dick navigating the Jeep follows suit and comes even closer. Fast.
At the last moment, the Jeep moves back into the right lane and halts next to me. The light turns green, but neither of us moves. I glower at the blacked-out driver's side through my visor—equally tinted—when the window suddenly lowers about halfway. My heart stutters when a girl with wavy, dark-blonde hair comes into view. Wayfarers cover half of her face that's visible, and despite not seeing her eyes, I can feel her gaze on me. Somehow, I know that she is stunningly beautiful. My body is instantly buzzing with...recognition?
Have I seen her before?
I hold my breath as something in her expression changes. She is smirking. The crinkle around her eyes is noticeable, even though most of her face is hidden from me. Lifting a hand, MOAB Girl salutes and takes off with screeching tires.
Stunned, I remain at the intersection until I can no longer see her lights down the road.
I have no idea what just happened, but the thudding beat of my heart tells me that it was the most exciting thing since exiting the plane two years ago.
