“What about the bag?” Ryder asks. I can’t see anything, but I can tell it’s him from his voice.
Foster places the helmet over me, fixing the blindfold. “No bag. This will do just fine.”
“Why do I need anything over my eyes?” I question, trying not to chuckle at their very careful kidnapping scheme. He slinks his leather jacket over me.
Foster’s presence disappears, and I hear the sound of his foot peg clipping in. He’s on his bike. “I’ve got her.” Ryder says, and moments later I’m being picked up and guided onto Foster’s back seat.
“Hold on, okay?” Foster tells me. I wrap my arms around his waist, and my heart rate picks up from anticipation. His cool, earthy scent surrounds me, and I’m ready for anything. Riding without sight. This will be dangerous and interesting.
The bikes rev to life, and a rumbling current shoots through my body. We zip off before I can ask any more questions, and the feeling of not seeing but feeling everything is surreal. The wind, the vibrations of the bike, Foster’s hand as it travels to my knee momentarily for comfort.
“This is …” I shout, then grow momentarily speechless.
“What?” he yells back. “Are you okay?”
I let out an excited breath. “This is amazing!”
Foster’s shoulders shake from laughter as we go wherever it is we’re going. I’m just along for the ride.
We eventually come to a stop.
“I hope you still think that in a minute.” He says. I try to listen for sounds, but I hear nothing besides empty Miami streets. We’re on a backroad somewhere. “Pick a number between one and twenty.”
“Um, fifteen?” I decide.
The guys yell out, excited. “Fuck,” Foster sighs.
“What? Did I do something wrong?”
“Hold on,” he replies, gripping the throttle and pulling it back. The front tire lifts off the ground momentarily before we go flying down the road. I hold onto him for dear life, unable to lift my shield and move the shirt that’s stolen my vision away.
Intense wind is all I can feel for what seems like a long time until we finally come to a stop. The bike exhaust is puffing out hot smoke; I can feel the hot air traveling near my legs.
“Did we break down?” I ask.
Guided off the bike, I remove my helmet and blindfold. “Congratulations, Blue. You survived.” Callum cheers, getting off his own ride.
My feet feel a little wobbly, so Foster holds me steady. “You okay? Sorry about that. Just stupid rules.”
“Rules you made up!” Ryder laughs, throwing a punch into Foster’s arm and hitting his leather jacket. But I’m wearing it?
My eyes pan down to the jacket which I notice now doesn’t devour me. It’s a perfect fit, and it’s mine. “You got this for me?”
The guys crowd around us. “Wegot it for you.” They all say together.
I pull it off to get a better look; it’s all black with a few pointed black studs. No patches except one on the left arm that’s blue, matching the accents on Foster’s bike. It reads, “Ghost.”
“I love it! I really like the patch.” My face breaks out into a cheesy grin.
Foster cups my cheek. “I’ll get a matching one on mine with your name.”
I look around. “Where are the rest of the guys?” I ask, thinking about the large number of bikers at the parties.
Callum rolls his eyes. “Foster’s request was that it was just us since you were familiar. Besides, we’re the main men in the house, so we’re all you need,” He winks, and Foster rolls his eyes.
“I’m all you need.” Foster tells me.
“Oh, chill out, Ghost. She’s yours now. You know I can’t touch her … again.” Callum holds back a chortle.