Page 21 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
I manage a jerky nod, my body still frozen in shock.
"On three, we're heading for my bike, it's just around the corner. Keep your body close to the ground. You ready?" His voice is tense but steady against my ear.
I want to argue, to demand explanations, but survival instinct overrides my curiosity.
"Ready," I rasp.
"One... two... three!"
The pressure on my back disappears, and I scramble upright, keeping my body low. My knees shake uncontrollably as if they've turned to jelly, but a rush of energy floods my system and drives me forward. The man grips my arm,practically dragging me toward an alley I hadn't spotted earlier.
Another pop sounds and something whizzes past my ear. I flinch, a strangled yelp escaping my throat.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. This is really happening.
We turn the corner and a sleek black motorcycle appears in the shadows. The man thrusts a helmet into my hands, then swings his leg over the seat. The engine snarls to life as he steadies the bike.
"Get on," he barks over the rumble.
My heart hammers as I clumsily clamber onto the back, the helmet wobbling in my grip. His muscular form fills my vision as I settle behind him, the leather of his jacket rough against my palms. The bike vibrates between my thighs, ready to bolt.
"Put it on. Now," he barks. As soon as I have it on, we speed away from the curb, tires screeching.
"What the fuck is going on?" I demand, my words shaky but fueled by fear and rage.
My arms tighten around the stranger's waist as he leans into another turn, the motorcycle tilting precariously. His muscles flex beneath my grip as he maneuvers expertly through traffic.
The wind whips strands of hair across my face, but I can't loosen my hold to try to tuck them back into the helmet.
"Someone wants you dead," he shouts over the roar of the engine, not taking his eyes off the road ahead.
"No shit," I snap, gripping his waist tighter as he accelerates. "Why?"
He glances back at me. "Because you're looking into things that powerful people don't want anyone to know."
My mind spins, trying to process everything that's happened in the last few minutes. The attack, this man's timely intervention, the implications of his words. It's too much, too fast.
This is fucking crazy.
The wind whips past as we speed through the city, my arms locked around this stranger's waist. My mind races faster than the motorcycle, trying to make sense of what just happened.
Suddenly, we veer off the main road onto a quiet side street. Before I can catch my breath, he kills the engine and hauls me off the bike.
"Hey!" I protest as his hands roam over my arms and legs. "What are you doing?"
"Checking for injuries," he grunts, his touch clinical and impersonal.
I shove him away, anger flaring. "I can check myself, thank you very much. Stop manhandling me like some caveman!"
His eyes narrow. "I just saved your life. A little gratitude wouldn't kill you."
"Gratitude?" I sputter. "You knocked me to the ground and kidnapped me!"
"I prevented you from getting shot, and you came willingly," he counters. "And now I'm taking you somewhere safe."
"Like hell you are," I snap. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
He crosses his arms, looking infuriatingly calm. "Get back on the bike."
