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With no other ideas, I press the number on my dashboard to call my father. The phone rings and rings, and then finally, his voicemail up.
“Ugh,” I groan, stabbing the button to disconnect the call.
What do I do? What do I do?
Big Dick is closer now. In another few seconds, he’ll be close enough to touch the back bumper of my car.
“Momma, he’s coming.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
It’s not okay. Fucking hell, it’s not okay.
I try my father again, racking my brain, desperate to think of who else to call.
The police? I could call them, but because it’s bike week, they’ll take forever. And besides, Big Dick will get out and look for me again. Only this time, I’ll have gotten him arrested as well.
No. I need to find a way to…
And then it hits me—TwatKnot. He’d put his number into my phone. He was a Black Hood, and the Black Hoods were famous for helping people, especially from terrifying psychopaths like Big Dick.
I hit another stop sign then, and the pedestrians crossing the street block my path. Big Dick pulls up behind me, a grin on his face as his front tire bumps my rear bumper hard enough to make the car jolt forward just a bit.
Pulling up my contacts, I find his name and make the call.
TWATKNOT
The crowd goeswild as three bikes come ripping down the track for the speed races. I peer up from V’s bike in the pits as they roar by us. V goes stiff next to me. Fucker’s scared, as he should be. Most of the guys on this track are seasoned riders. Some even ride professionally.
“You sure you want to go through with this?” Priest asks. “Not too late to back out.”
V thaws just enough to shake his head. “What class was that again?”
“Amateur class.” I almost laugh when V gulps hard. “That was just the first heat. There are three more before yours,” I remind him.
Priest slaps him on the shoulder. “Dude, you got this.”
V relaxes slightly, returning to his bike and the pre-rally tune-up. When V steps away, his back to us, Priest looks over at me and drags his thumb across his neck. It takes all I have to stifle a laugh, because Priest is right. V’s in trouble, but I have to commend him for even trying. I sure as hell wouldn’t have signed up for a rally race, and not in front of our entire club, who are either lining the stands or walking through the pits.
Helping V do a few final checks, I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. Pulling it out, I frown at the local number, but I’m curious, so I answer.
“Hello?”
“TK?” I recognize Cora’s voice instantly, even though it’s shaky and rushed. “I’m in trouble. I need help.”
I step away from the crew. “What’s going on?”
“I–I,” she stammers, her voice filled with panic. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
I motion to the others and head off toward the exit. “Where are you?”
“I’m in my car.”
“That tells me what you’re in, but not where, gorgeous.”
“On Kincaid, just off the main street. I’m… not alone.”
I stop dead in my tracks. V and Priest are right behind me, and they halt too as I say, “Cora, talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
