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“Oh!”
He focused on my face again.
I nearly melted into a puddle at the way he studied me. “We could play a game. There’s a Frisbee golf course near the park where I coach soccer. Sometimes we take the kids there after practice. The competition can get fierce.”
He blinked at me. “What now? Frisbee golf? What is that?” He tilted his head, and I couldn’t get over how adorable he looked.
“Come on! Let me check to see if we can walk from here or should catch another bus or Uber or something.” I smiled at Ethan and took my phone out of my pocket, then nearly passed out when he grinned back. My happiness overwhelmed me to the point that my head felt fuzzy.
“Spending time with you sounds good. Any way you want. I’ll learn this game. Who knows? I might even be good at it. I used to throw a Frisbee around with my older brother, Leo.”
“Yeah, I bet you’ll be great.” I flashed him a grin and began to poke at the screen of my phone. “Why have you never played before? It’s pretty popular.”
“Does it cost money?”
“Yeah, about thirty bucks a player. Ah ha!” I finally found the website and clicked the link. “Just another second.”
Ethan grabbed my elbow, letting out a growl that chilled my blood. I glanced up, but his attention was focused out in the street.
“Is there any way you can do this while we walk?”
“Uh, sure,” I said, beginning to move my feet and glancing back down at my phone. I clicked the directions. “We’re a few miles from the park, but I don’t mind walking, do you?”
“Hey! Asswipe!” a man nearby shouted. “Don’t you work for Dutch?”
I flinched, glanced up, and then recoiled.
A monster of a guy, who had to be at least six and a half feet tall, had stopped a motorcycle in the street and was pointing at Ethan, who froze at my side. There was another bike next to him, and the skinny man on it, with an equally thin mustache, revved the engine of his Harley. He didn’t look solid enough to be on a motorcycle.
“Fuck you!” Ethan bellowed.
“You’ve been working for the Kings. I want to fucking talk to you. You have some fucking nerve going into Ant’s shop, you prick.”
“Shit. Run!” Ethan jerked me forward with a hand on my arm, and I fumbled my phone to the sidewalk. The screen cracked, and I groaned. My parents would have a fit. I tried to bend to grab it, but he was already dragging me. I had no choice except to move my feet or face-plant.
“Leave it!” The panic in his tone froze my blood and sent a shudder down my spine.
“Why?” I asked. The roar of a motorcycle revving behind me sent terror sliding down my spine. “What’s going on?” I glanced back, and there was a motorcycle on the sidewalk, larger than life. “That’s illegal!”
“Run now! Talk later!” Ethan snagged my hand and put on speed, and I was in good shape, so I was able to match his quick pace. Fear ate at me, and I ran faster. Sweat stuck my jeans and shirt to my skin, and soon he was huffing and puffing to keep up with me. He dragged us down an alleyway between buildings, and the motorcycle roared past.
Halfway through the alley, we stopped and stared back while we caught our breath, but then the motorcycle—and worse, the mountain of a man who sat on it—appeared at the mouth.
“Fuck!” Ethan yelled.
The motorcycle started forward again. In front of us another bike turned into the alley, and I moaned. It was the skinny man.
“We’re going to get run over! Why are they chasing us?” I squeezed Ethan’s hand.
“Fucking fuck!” Ethan grabbed me and shoved me against the brick wall of the building on our right, then dug in his heels in front of me with his arms crossed. He was taller, but we were more or less the same size; however, he clearly thought he was going to keep anything bad from happening to me. I rested a hand between his shoulder blades and fumbled for my phone to call 911, then moaned when I remembered I’d dropped it on the sidewalk.
“Your phone. Give it to me! I’ll call the cops!”
He snorted and glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows nearly at his hairline. “No, we can’t.”
“But—”
“You fucking ran!” the big man shouted.
