Page 122 of Shades of Silver City

He scratches the back of his neck. “Something like that.” Then, with a frown, he pivots toward the garage. “Give me a second. I’m going to get his sidecar so he can come. He’s right. His venom saved us last time. I’d feel better knowing you have both of us.”

Turning on his heel, he darts over to the garage and yanks the door up. I watch the street for any sign of movement, listening for distant sirens. A few seconds later, Archer emerges, wheeling out a matte-black pod that sits on a single wheel. It has a seat inside with a protective windshield in front.

It takes him a few minutes, but he attaches it to the side of his motorcycle. As soon as that’s accomplished, Scathe jumps in. Archer reaches into the storage compartment of his bike, pulling out a small helmet and attaching it to Scathe’s head. It has a little visor that flips down, protecting his eyes.

It fits perfectly.

The sight is so adorable, my chest pinches.

“You have to be kidding me,” I say, giggling. Even with all the darkness in the world, there are moments of utter happiness. Seeing a dog wearing a helmet is one of those moments.

Unable to resist, I snap a photo of Scathe, then bend over to give him all the good-boy loves.

Straightening, I turn to Archer and point at him. “You and I are having a talk after all this.”

“I hope we have many talks,” he says with a wink.

“I’m serious!” I give him a look that means business. “I’ve ignored your weird”—I glance around and drop my voice to a whisper—“weirdness long enough. I have questions.”

“And I’ll give you all the answers.” He steps forward, placing a hand on my waist and dropping a kiss on my forehead. “After we get your bear.”

We put our helmets on and straddle the bike. I wrap my arms around Archer’s body, nestling into his back. Unlike last time, I let myself melt into him, reveling in the feel of his strong muscles, gripping him as tightly as possible. It’s insane how quickly a night can go from perfect to shit.

One moment, I have this beautiful specimen of a man inside of me, worshiping me, and the next we’re running for our lives.

“Ready?” he yells over the soft purr of the engine.

“Yes!” I call back.

We take off, flying down the road. Once again, a rare sense of freedom takes over my body. It’s as if I’m weightless, soaring through space and time. I’m untouchable, invincible.

We slice through the night, toward the inner city. In the distance, the city’s glow emerges, a tapestry of twinkling lights.

I glance at Scathe, who’s staring straight ahead, his tongue lolling out. For a moment, everything falls away. I’m just a girl, on the back of a guy’s bike, hanging out with him and his dog.

With each second that passes, the distant lights grow brighter and the ragged skyline grows sharper. Soon, we’re winding our way through the great labyrinth of glass, metal, and asphalt, greeted by the restless city center.

Streetlights and neon signs brighten our path, and vehicles and pedestrians appear on the streets alongside us. The skyscrapers seem to swallow us up as we head deeper into the city.

We pull into my apartment complex and park. The motorcycle’s hum fades into silence while I swing a leg over the side and dismount. Warmth radiates through my inner thighs, and my legs continue to vibrate.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell the boys as I pull the helmet off and hand it to Archer.

Scathe whimpers.

“He’s going with you,” Archer says.

“No,” I say sternly. “You two need to stay here, in case we need to dip. I’ll be quick.”

Staying vigilant, I throw the hood up over my head and tuck away my bright hair. I pat Scathe on the helmet before turning to bolt up the stairs.

Tonight, the building is mostly quiet, no parties raging on. The knot in my chest loosens. Without knocking, I use my key and enter my old apartment. It’s dark, other than a neon-green light seeping out of Stace’s open door.

Not wanting to alert anyone to my presence, I sneak toward my room. As I pass through the living room, a shadow moves in the kitchen to my right, startling me.

“Reed?” I whisper, squinting at what looks like my ex-boyfriend’s silhouette by the sink. I flip the switch on the wall, wincing at the onslaught of fluorescent brightness that washes over us. His teal soul-shade billows out around him, and I exhale heavily, relieved after everything I’ve seen tonight.

Reed’s reddish hair sticks up in all directions. There are bags under his eyes and a stress wrinkle in his forehead.

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