Page 49 of Stone

Knox faced forward and leaned over the handlebars.

He zipped around a cab, then heard the revving of an engine. One of the motorcycles roared up, and pulled in beside them.

The rider pulled a handgun out from under his jacket and aimed in their direction.

Shit. “Hold on!”

Knox braked. Bullets sprayed the parked cars at the curb. He yanked the handlebars and turned into a side street. He accelerated.

“They’re still coming,” Nola shouted.

He turned the bike again, and realized the second bike had circled around. It sped closer, until it was right behind them.

Nola yanked off her ball cap and tossed it at the man. It hit him in the face and his bike swiveled.

Knox glanced back and watched as the bike hit the back of a car. The rider flew into the air, then crashed to the sidewalk.

“Yes!” Nola cried.

Knox faced forward again. Come on. They were almost at the office.

But a moment later, the other motorcycle sped in from another street. It almost collided with them.

Yanking the handlebars, Knox narrowly avoided a collision. He revved the engine and turned another corner.

Not far now.

“Don’t let go,” he yelled at Nola.

Her grip tightened.

He turned, and raced up onto the sidewalk again, then quickly turned into an alley. They zipped through it, the dumpsters on either side almost close enough to touch.

They screeched back out onto the street.

“He’s still coming,” she said.

Knox straightened up the bike and picked up speed. “Get my gun.”

She leaned closer, her mouth close to his ear. “What?”

“Get my gun. Take a shot at him.”

“What?”

He sensed her nerves, but Knox had no doubt that Nick had made sure his sister could shoot. “You can do it, Nola.”

She reached for Knox’s holster and pulled his gun out. “Channel your inner badass, Nola.”

She half turned, holding onto Knox with one hand, and aiming the handgun with the other.

Knox looked in the motorcycle’s side mirror. Behind them, the biker swerved.

A second later, Nola fired.

Zolotov’s man swerved again.

“Bugger,” Nola bit out.

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