Page 16 of Kash
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, but my voice is rough, betraying me.
“Thentellme,” Spike replies, his green eyes locked on mine, unflinching. “I’m not some snitch looking for five grand. I want to help. If they’re saying you killed a cop… I don’t know… I just don’t believe it. I can help. Come on, you know I can.”
I laugh, a harsh sound that echoes in the small cabin.
“Help? You think you can help a man like me?” I chuckle. “You’re a twenty-something kid, Spike. A skater boy with a smart mouth and no sense of danger.”
His eyes flash, and he steps right into my space, close enough that I can smell the salt on his skin.
“I’m not a kid,” Spike rasps, his voice low, fierce. “And I’m not scared of you or your mess. You think I can’t handle it? Try me.”
I grab his shoulders, meaning to push him away, but my hands linger, feeling the strength in his lean frame. He’s not backing down, and it’s doing things to me—stirring that same heat I felt when I had him over my lap, when he holleredDaddy.
“You don’t get it,” I say, my voice softer now, almost pleading. “This isn’t a game. The people after me—they don’t play by your rules. They don’t play byanyrules. They’ll kill you just for being near me.”
“Then let me help you stay hidden,” Spike says, his voice steady, his eyes burning with something I can’t name. “I know this town. Every back alley, every trail. I can watch for cops, keep them off your trail.”
I shake my head, but the idea’s tempting. He’s quick, clever, and he knows Cresthaven better than I ever will. “You’re asking to get in deep,” I say, my hands still on his shoulders. “Deeper than you can handle.”
The boy grins, that reckless, defiant grin that makes my blood boil.
“I can handle deep, Daddy,” Spike says, the word dripping with challenge, and I nearly lose it right there.
“Fuck, Spike,” I mutter, stepping back before I do something stupid like kiss him again. “Fine. You want to help? You keep your eyes open, tell me if you see anything—cops, strangers, anything off. But you don’t get involved. You don’t take risks. And you followmyrules.”
Spike rolls his eyes but nods. “Deal. But I want something in return.”
I raise an eyebrow, wary. “What?”
“A ride,” Spike says, his grin widening. “On that bike of yours. Just you and me, out on the road.”
I should say no.
Every instinct screams to keep him away, to keep my distance.
But the way he’s looking at me, all fire and want, makes it impossible.
“One ride,” I say, my voice gruff. “But you do exactly what I say.”
“Always,” Spike says, but his smirk says otherwise….
The moon’s high when we slip out of the cabin, the night cool and quiet except for the ocean’s roar.
I uncover the Harley, checking the road for any sign of trouble.
All clear. As safe as it’s gonna get.
Spike’s practically bouncing, his excitement infectious despite my better judgment. I climb on, gesturing for him to get behind me. He swings his leg over, his arms wrapping around my waist, his chest pressed against my back.
The boy’s heat seeps through my jacket, and I grit my teeth, trying to focus.
“Hold on tight,” I say, starting the engine.
The Harley roars to life, a deep growl that vibrates through us both. Spike’s grip tightens, his thighs pressed against mine, and I feel his breath catch as we take off.
We head down the coastal highway, the road winding along the cliffs, the ocean glittering under the stars.
“Wahoooo!” Spike calls out, loud and full of a youthful innocence—but definitely the sound a boy who loves danger too.
