Page 121 of Crown of Lies

My eyes scan the street, and suddenly, my heart lurches. There, across the road, I spot the masked man again. He’s standing by a car, and as he notices us, he quickly gets in and starts the engine.

“Shit!” I exclaim. “It’s him.”

Without thinking, I start running toward my bike, my heart pounding. We need to know who this guy is, who he’s working for.

“Quinn, wait!” Atlas calls after me, but I don’t stop.

The engine roars to life, and the car peels out, tires screeching as it speeds away. I quicken my pace, my eyes locked on the retreating vehicle.

“We’ve got to go after him!” I call over my shoulder. “We need to know who he is!”

I glance back at the men, expecting resistance, especially from Atlas, given our last encounter with my stalker. But this time, he surprises me.

Atlas nods, his eyes fierce. “We’ve got your back.”

I sprint to my bike, kickstarting the engine and pulling out into the street with a roar. I hear the familiar sound of the Princes’ bikes behind me as they follow suit.

We weave through the city traffic, the car always just barely in sight. I push my bike faster, feeling the thrill of the chase surge through me. We’re gaining on him, the son of a bitch. Inmy side mirrors, I can see my men leaning hard on their bikes. They’re just as invested in this chase as I am.

We swerve around a corner, and I spot the car up ahead. I rev my engine, urging my bike to go faster, knowing we’re just seconds away from catching up.

But as we approach the next intersection, the light turns red. The car speeds through without slowing, cutting sharply in front of a semi-truck. The truck slams on its brakes, but it’s too late. The massive vehicle lurches through the intersection right in front of me.

“Fuck!” I shout, my hands squeezing the brakes.

I’m not gonna be able to stop in time.

35

QUINN

The truck is justa few yards in front of me, completely filling my vision. I know in an instant I won’t be able to stop. Thinking fast, I twist the handlebars, laying my bike down and sliding under the semi’s trailer. It’s a risky move, but it’s my only option if I want to survive the next few seconds.

Time seems to slow as I feel the bike slip out from under me. My heart is in my throat, but I force myself to relax, to go with the slide. My clothing takes the brunt, the rough asphalt scraping against me as I tumble forward.

I roll, feeling the bike’s engine grind to a halt as it skids away. My skin stings, but I can barely feel the road rash on my arms and legs thanks to the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I’m up on my feet in an instant, more pissed off than hurt.

“Goddamn it!” I curse, spitting out the taste of bile that’s risen in my throat.

I whirl around, knowing we’ve lost our chance. The stalker has disappeared. A-fucking-gain.

I take a second to catch my breath, shaking off the shock of the near collision. The sound of running feet snaps me back into action.

“You okay, Quinn?” Atlas’s voice cuts through the haze in my mind as he jogs up, his face creased with concern.

Nico and Killian appear at my side a moment later, their eyes sweeping over me, taking in the fresh scrapes and torn clothing.

“You took a hell of a spill there,” Killian adds, his usually calm demeanor ruffled.

“I’m fine,” I snap, a bit more harshly than I mean to. I take a steadying breath and offer a small smile. “Really. Just a few scratches. Bike took the hit for me.”

I approach the bike, wincing as I take in the damage. The frame is bent, the paint scraped away in places, revealing the metal beneath. It’ll need a full work-over, but it’s still rideable.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I say, swinging my leg over the bike and kickstarting the engine. It roars to life, sputtering a little but still running strong.

The driver climbs down from his cab, red-faced and yelling. I don’t catch his words, but his meaning is clear: he’s pissed, and he wants us to stick around. Killian and Atlas exchange a glance, and Nico shouts something back to the driver that I don’t quite catch, but they follow my lead.

We don’t need the cops showing up, asking questions we don’t want to answer.

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