Page 10 of Unholy

“What the hell is that?” I hear Tristan’s voice from the other side of the car.

“Mace.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I didn’t know it was you,” I retort, still holding tightly to it. He stalks around the car and stops in front of me, staring me down.

“You going to use it?” he asks, nodding toward the mace in my hand.

“Do I need to?” He lets out a laugh that sends heat spiraling inside of me. Again, this feeling is new to me, and I don’t know what it means.

“I think you’re safe, Little Nun. Get in the car,” he says, nodding toward the SUV. I walk over, and he opens the door, ushering me inside. When I climb in, he closes the door and walks around to get in. Once he’s in, he turns to me and grins. He doesn’t speak, just smiles. Then he’s turning back to the front and taking off.

We drive to where I climbed into the back of the SUV, and he parks.

“What are we doing?”

“I need to get my bike. This isn’t my car,” he tells me.

“Bike?”

“Motorcycle,” he says as he climbs out and motions for me to do the same. I keep my hand in my pocket, wrapped around my mace, ready to spray it at a moment's notice. “Come on, Little Nun.” I follow behind him down a set of stairs and into what appears to be a club. There are people everywhere, and I cough from the smoke filling the room. I watch as Tristan tosses the keys to someone and then grabs another set. All eyes turn to me as I stand in the corner near the door, ready to bolt at any second.

“Let’s go,” Tristan says when he walks back over to me. We climb the stairs once more and then head back out toward his bike.

“I’ll call a taxi.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yeah, I think I will.”

“No, Little Nun. I think you fucking won’t. I’m taking your ass home.”

“What if my dad is there?”

“Then you can tell him how we came about riding home together,” he taunts.

“I … I can’t do that.”

“I’ll drop you off down the street. Get on,” he demands, passing me a helmet. I slide it on my head and climb on the bike after him. I grab his jacket and hold onto it, but he just laughs.

“You’ll be out of control, Ash. You have to hold onto me.”

“What? No.”

“Yeah, Ash. Either that or you’re going to kill us both. You ready to meet your maker?” he asks me. I shake my head, and he grabs my hands, pulling them around his waist. This is wrong. It’s so wrong, and I know it, but what am I supposed to do? I hold onto him as he revs the bike engine and takes off.

We hit the road and I can almost feel myself start to relax into him. I’ve never felt anything like this, being on the back of his bike. I’ve never felt so at ease or so free. It’s the strangest feeling in the world but I find I like it.

We pull onto our street and just like he said, he pulls over to let me off.

“Thank you.”

“Why are you smiling?” he asks, keeping his tone even.

“I’ve never been on a bike before.”

“Clearly. So that’s why you’re smiling?”

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