Page 2 of Tempt Me

As Kingston and I turn to head back toward my apartment, dread fills me. The music playing through my helmet doesn’t even take away the dread, pain, or help me keep the sense of freedom and peace. Kingston and I mostly listen to the same music but tonight, we’re both lost in our own head and aren’t speaking or anything else. We’re riding together but completely separate at the same time.

By the time we pull up to the apartment where I live, I’m exhausted. All I want to do is climb into bed, pull the covers over my head, and sleep for the next week. Instead, I’ll be up early tomorrow to start my new year of school so I can continue working on my degree and making something of myself. Kingston waits after giving me a hug until I get inside. He doesn’t ever leave before the lights in my apartment turn on and he knows I’ve gotten inside safely. I slowly climb the stairs to the second floor and let myself inside the apartment I love. It’s my sanctuary and the place I spend all of my time. Looking out the window, I watch Kingston pull away before pulling out my phone and making the calls to let my family know I’m okay and nothing is going on. It’s an act I’m used to performing now and a role I’ll continue to play until things change in my life.

Chapter One

Zoey

AFTER A FULL day of classes, all I want to do is get on my bike and ride for a while. I have homework and reading to do, but the call of the road and freeing my mind from all the bullshit swirling around makes me want to drop everything and out race my thoughts. I quickly stop by my apartment to drop off my bag and change into my riding gear. Once I’m dressed and ready to go, I pull out my phone and check for any missed calls or messages. Everyone knows my schedule so it’s not surprising to see I only have one message on my phone from Playboy. My uncle messages me at least once a day to check on me if I’m not working in the garage. If I’m there, he simply stops in and takes me out to eat when I’m done working. I love being close to this part of my family because we’ve only gotten together sporadically over the years and now I can see them on a daily basis.

Playboy: How’s your day sweetheart? What are you doing for dinner? If you want, you’re more than welcome to come over. Sam is making a feast and we’d all love to see you.

Me: I’m about to head out for a ride. It’s been one hell of a day and I just need to clear my head. I’ll take a raincheck on dinner though. Tell everyone I say hi and that I’ll call gramps later tonight or tomorrow. I missed my last call with him.

Playboy: Okay, sweetheart. If you need me, call. I’m not going anywhere tonight. Is Kingston riding with you?

Me: No. Just a solo ride today. I’ll be okay. Gonna head up to the lookout point and relax before I come back to study and do my homework.

Playboy: Love you, sweetheart.

Me: Love you too, Uncle G.

With a smile on my face, I lock my apartment up and pull up my playlist. Today is a day for the music to be cranked as high as I can get it while I ride. The smile is still on my face as I reach my bike and set my gloves on the tank while putting my key in the ignition. Turning it on, I press the button to start the engine and listen to the sound of my bike. A thrill goes through me as always. Yeah, I’ve been a backpack more times than I can count. Never for anyone I was in a relationship with, but my family members who I’ve ridden with over the years. Knowing I can come out and get on my own bike is the best feeling in the world. I don’t have to wait for someone to ask me if I want to go for a ride with them. I can simply walk out and get on my bike whenever the need to ride strikes me.

Putting on my gloves after putting my phone in the mount I have, I press play on my playlist and straddle my bike. Looking around the parking lot, I make sure no little ones are out running around on their own. It’s happened more than a few times. I know this for a fact because they always come up to me and stare at my bike with smiles on their faces. When the kids come up to me, I let them rev the engine and sit on my bike for a few minutes. Seeing them so happy from a simple gesture makes my day and nothing can wipe the smile off my face. There’s a few kids who seem to wait for me to leave my apartment so they can make sure they get to see my bike and talk to me. Today isn’t one of those days though.

Pulling out of my spot, I make my way through the parking lot of my building and wait for the few cars to pass by before pulling out and heading out of town. Dusk is falling and there’s hardly any traffic as I keep an eye on my speed. When we’ve come here before, I never noticed the strong police presence on the roads. Now, it seems like one particular cop is all over the place. Anytime I ride, he follows me for longer than appropriate and doesn’t do anything to pull me over or anything else. It gives me the creeps to see him pull up behind me and know I’ll be followed and can’t speed up to really let my thoughts fly away with the wind.

As I head out of town, it doesn’t take long for the all too familiar cop car to pull out behind me. For a few miles he just follows behind me and I know today I’m not going to be so lucky as to get away without him pulling me over. There’s a feeling deep in my gut telling me he’s going to start some shit. Pressing pause on my playlist, I pull up my phone log and call my uncle. He’ll be better than calling my gramps. Gramps will lose his shit if I call him and I really don’t want to have to call my parents because he’s been arrested.

“Sweetheart, back from your ride already?” Playboy answers his phone as I look behind me to see the cop getting closer to my bike.

“Uncle G, I got that fucking cop following me. He’s getting way too close and I know he’s gonna pull me over,” I tell my uncle, fear filling me as I look over my shoulder once again to find him even closer to me than a few seconds ago.

“Where are you?” my uncle questions, his voice cold and deadly as I hear muffled sounds coming from his end of the phone.

“I’m heading to the lookout point. I’m just on the outskirts of town and ready to turn off to head up there,” I answer him as I twist the throttle a little to go faster and get away from this cop.

“Kingston and I are on our way. We’ll be there in five. Don’t let this fucker get you alone, Zoey. Make sure he knows we’re comin’ so he doesn’t try to pull any shit,” my uncle tells me as he keeps me on the phone while I hear his bike start up.

Just as I go to pull into the forest to head up to the lookout point, the cop turns his lights on. I let my uncle know that I’m pulling over and we’re just at the entrance of the forest. There’s no one around as the stars start to come out and dusk starts turning darker. A tremor of fear rushes through my body and I know this asshole planned to pull me over away from everyone else. Here, no one is around or passing by. Not too many people come out this way late at night and I know this is the perfect place for this asshole to do and say whatever he wants to me.

Before the cop even gets out of his car, I have my bike shut off and the kickstand down. I don’t remove my gloves or anything else because there’s no way I’m giving this cop more ways to identify me than what he’s already got. Not that there’s really anything on my hands to help identify me, it’s just the point that I’m not about to show him any more skin than what I currently am which isn’t much. The one thing I wish I could do is finish zipping my jacket up. It’s not often that I leave the zipper down, but tonight I did. I’m wearing a tight tank top under it and it shows more than a little cleavage. Though, I wasn’t thinking I’d be getting pulled over or see anyone when I was out for my ride. Now, I wish I had put on something different under my riding jacket and that I’d zipped it up completely. Fuck!

“Do you know why I pulled you over tonight?” the cop asks me, his voice filled with malice as he steps up to my side closer than he needs to be to me.

“No, I don’t. I wasn’t speeding or doing anything to break the law,” I answer him honestly as I leave my helmet on and the visor firmly closed.

“Get off the bike,” he states, his voice going hard as I look up at him.

The cops eyes are on my chest as I sit up straighter on my bike and try to get off my bike with how close he’s standing to me.

“My eyes are up here,” I state, knowing I really shouldn’t be pissing this fucker off, but I don’t care when he’s staring at my chest in a way that makes me feel completely violated since it’s only the two of us out here like this.

“Excuse me?” the cop questions as I take in his appearance for the first time.

The uniform he’s wearing is full of wrinkles and stains as if he hasn’t washed it in a very long time. The smell of alcohol and weed pours off of him and surrounds me to the point it’s hard not to gag on the smells wafting from his body. His dark hair is matted to his head and greasy as if he hasn’t washed it in weeks or longer. What really gets me though are his eyes. They’re so cold and lifeless. There’s no emotion or anything there as I quickly avert my gaze from them. The mustache he has is long and covers his top lip completely with crumbs or something in it. This man is fucking disgusting and there’s nothing I can do to get away from him as I finally manage to get off my bike and move to the other side so it’s between the two of us.

This man has sunken in cheeks but a pot belly as if he drinks a lot of beer. That’s what it reminds me of after seeing such a variety of bikers over the years growing up in the Wild Kings. When he flashes me a sinister grin, I take in the broken off teeth that are yellowed and disgusting. A foul odor comes from his mouth and washes over me since that’s how close he’s standing to me. Where the sleeves of his uniform are shoved up his arms, I can make out the distinct marks of shoving a needle in his arm. This cop is a fucking drug addict and it’s written out with the marks covering his arm he’s not even trying to hide from me. I don’t want to be anywhere near this man for any reason. Every detail I take in of him makes me feel even more horrible than the last.

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