Page 89 of Emperor of Havoc

His kaiju.

“Anyway, my mom met this guy, Akira Ohno, through her various social circles. He was Japanese, had money and status like our family, and I guess she figured he’d be a good mentor for me.” He shrugs. “I fought it at first, because of course I did. But pretty soon, he was like the cool uncle I never had. He taught me about engines, about finding the balance between chaos and precision.” His dark eyes fly to mine, and I can see the weight of unspoken words there.

He taught Takeshi how to control his monster.

“Do you still think my father was responsible?” I sign sharply.

He holds my gaze for a long moment. Then he smirks. “I think, for tonight at least, I’m having too much fun to go digging up ghosts, princess.”

Back on the bikes,the streets feel different. Or maybe I'm what feels different. I’ve just had my first real date in my entire life.

With my husband.

Talk about ass backward.

The hum of the city has an edge to it, like the shadows are watching. Takeshi rides ahead, less maniacally now, his form silhouetted against the neon glow. I follow closely, the thrill of the ride rushing through me.

It happens very quickly.

I spot movement in my peripheral vision—a dark shape closing in. Before I can react, a motorcycle roars up beside me, the riderclad in black and wearing a helmet shaped like a menacingonidemon mask. The figure swerves toward me, forcing me closer to the edge of the road, making my heart leap into my throat.

My hands sign desperately in the air toward Takeshi ahead of me. But he can’t see me. The rider next to me veers close again, and my pulse jangles when he raises a hand and points right at me.

What thefuck.

In a panic, I start to hammer the horn, blasting it over and over.

The other rider careens in again. His arm lifts, and horror washes over me as I realize he’sreachingfor me.

Terror explodes through my system as I hit the horn again and again and ram my bike into a higher gear, shooting forward and away from the masked rider, recklessly lurching into oncoming traffic before I cut back into the proper lane, getting closer to Takeshi. I pound the horn again, and this time, his head jerks to the side when he hears me.

I wave a hand frantically. Just as I do, the other rider roars up again, insanely close to me, sending my heart into my throat.

Wordlessly, Takeshi drops back, gunning his engine, surging toward the other rider. The man roars forward, dodging Takeshi easily. I watch in terror in my rear view mirror as Takeshi races into oncoming traffic, narrowly missing a taxi before cutting back into the correct lane.

Suddenly, my bike jams to the side, my balance wobbling as I almost lose control of the front wheel.

Holyfuck.

The unknown rider justrammed me.

He veers toward me again, reaching for me with a gloved hand. Just as he gets close, his bike jerks, slamming sideways into me.

A silent scream rips from my throat as my front wheel wobbles wildly. The bike veers left, then right, tipping dangerously as it prepares to flip. I can feel gravity getting ready to drag me down to the road and rip me to pieces.

Suddenly, an arm snakes around my waist and a strong hand grasps my riding jacket, yanking me off my bike just as it completely spirals out and goes crashing into the back of a parked van with a smash of metal and glass.

My heart skips as a familiar grip grabs me and hauls me onto the back of his bike, my arms around his midsection.

Takeshi.

I can barely breathe or think as he guns the engine, roaring off down the neon-lit street as I cling to him for dear life.

But the masked rider doesn’t let up. He’s still on our tail, his bike weaving expertly as he gains on us. Takeshi grips the handlebars tightly, his body tense as he pushes his machine to the limit.

“Hang on!” he yells over the wind ripping past my ears.

The entire world tilts as Takeshi turns sharply, tires skidding on the wet pavement. I cling to him, my heart pounding so loud I can barely hear the roar of the engines.

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