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The garage door rolled up and there was his bike in all its glory. Kara owned a Kawasaki 800, but she’d driven Colton’s heavier—and more powerful—Harley V-Rod. The best thing about Colton’s bike was that it was fast.
She threw a helmet at Violet and put one on herself because there was no shield on the front of the bike to protect her from debris and bugs. She needed to see clearly. She ordered Violet to climb on.
“Hold on tight because I’m going to be moving fast and not slowing down. You fall off, you’re going to break something and those guys are going to grab you.”
She heard gunfire and screamed, “Matt!”
“...shooting at the car.”
“I have a ride. Get out of here.”
“What ride?”
She started up the bike. Colton hadn’t let her down. He loved his bike, and would never let it stay idle for long.
“Kara—”
“Trust me. I got Violet. Go,” she said before ending the call.
As long as the men were going to the front door, she was okay. If they were coming down the driveway, she was toast.
She turned the bike and floored it. Riding a motorcycle was literally like riding a bike—you never forgot.
But she had forgotten how much she loved it.
Violet gripped her tight and Kara practically flew down the driveway. The men were coming out of the house in the back—they’d already busted the front door—and she thought she heard a gunshot, but she felt nothing, and Violet’s grip didn’t waver.
The van blocked the intersection, so Kara turned left, up the hill. They would pursue, but she was faster on the bike. And motorcycles could go where vans couldn’t.
At the top of the hill, the road curved around and went down toward the Hollywood Freeway. She went through a red light—slowing only briefly to make sure there was no cross traffic—and merged onto the 110 heading north.
She debated for two seconds about heading straight for the Sheraton, but she didn’t know what was going on, how these men had found her, if they’d followed her and Matt from the hotel or if they might be waiting for her there. She needed to get Violet to safety, and that meant getting her out of town.
Like to Colton’s Big Bear cabin.
It was a two-hour drive—maybe less on the bike. When she felt they were safe she’d pull over and figure out exactly where in Big Bear she was going.
Violet repeatedly tapped on her leg. Kara glanced in the rearview mirror, didn’t see anyone pursuing or gaining on her. Still, she didn’t want to pull over just yet.
She waited until she got through the I-5 interchange and was heading more east than north, then pulled over in South Pasadena where there was an easy on/off-ramp next to a dog park.
She pulled into the parking lot and throttled down the bike, looked at the gauges. Nearly full tank of gas. Everything appeared in good working order.
She took off her helmet and looked at Violet. “What?”
Violet struggled but removed her own helmet. She was pale and wide-eyed. She said, “Your phone. You have to get rid of your phone. It’s how they found me. That’s the only way I can think that they found you, unless they followed you.”
Kara was good at spotting a tail, but she thought she’d missed it. Her phone? Damn.
She called Matt.
He answered immediately.
“Status.”
“We’re good. I’m getting Violet out of town.”
“Bring her to the hotel.”
