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Suddenly, his phone buzzes, and it breaks the spell between us as he picks it up. The look on his face darkens with every passing second.
“What’s wrong?”
He jumps out of bed and immediately dials a number. “Nathan? Where is he?”
I have never heard his voice this unhinged.
* * *
Kai
“Who is it?”Lana asks, walking closer so she can hear.
“In the clinic? Okay, I’ll be right there,” I say, and I close the conversation and snatch my pants and underwear off the floor.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, but I’m far too busy getting dressed as quickly as possible.
“Milo’s been attacked while he was out with Rory.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
I can’t explain this right now. “He’s in the local clinic, Nathan’s with him, waiting until he gets out of surgery. I have to go.”
As I march past her, she latches onto my hand. “Let me come with you.” Our eyes connect. “Please.”
My Adam’s apple moves up and down, the weight of her words not to be taken lightly.
Goddamn, thatpleasenearly kills me.
I swallow again and nod. “C’mon.”
She nods, and we bolt down the stairs, headed straight for the door. Several girls exit their bedrooms and look at me like they’ve seen a ghost walking, but I don’t care or feel the need to explain. We’ll deal with any fallout later. Right now, we need to get to Milo and Nathan.
He left so many messages and called me a million times, but my phone was on silent because I didn’t want anyone to disturb my precious time with Lana.
But fuck, I wish I’d at least kept it on buzz now.
I throw open the door and say, “My car’s back at the society house. We gotta run.”
“No,” Lana says, and she picks up a helmet from a box in the yard in front of the house. “We’ll take my bike. It’s faster.”
I frown as she hands the helmet to me. “I can’t drive that thing.”
She smirks as she puts on her own helmet. “No, but I can.”
I watch her jump on the bike and rev the engine before she coaxes me with those claws of hers. “Jump on.”
Gripping the helmet tight, I hesitate for a moment.
It’s just a bike. Jesus. How hard can it be?
Clearing my throat, I jump on behind her and put on the helmet.
“Hold on tight,” she says.
I’m surprised she knows where to go, but I guess that comes with the territory of being a Rivera. This clinic is only accessible to those on the criminal path.
When she races off, I’m not prepared for the speed, Jesus fucking Christ, the way she whizzes across the streets, zigzagging from left to right as if it’s child’s play to her. I hold on tight, her body tensing when my fingers splay against her belly, and I grumble into the helmet from how good it feels. Her delicious scent wafts into my nose, and I take in a breath to get high on her smell.
