Page 59 of Sage Haven
He rode too fast. Cutting across lanes. Ignoring lights. Like he wanted to scare me or perhaps, even kill me.
And maybe it was both.
By the time we pulled up in front of my apartment, my hands were numb from gripping the seat too tightly.
He climbed off the bike, and as I shifted to follow suit, his hand shot out, grabbing me roughly by the collar of my jacket.
I choked on a startled gasp as he dragged me forward, pulling me inches from his face and trapping me tightly between himself and the bike. His breath was cold, but his eyes were colder.
Dead.
He stared at me in heavy silence, like he was weighing something.
Me.
My worth.
Then, abruptly, he shoved me backward.
Hard.
My foot twisted beneath me as I collided painfully into the side of the bike. Metal bit into flesh, and a searing heat exploded across the back of my calf.
I gasped sharply, but the pain was already etched deep into my skin.
The exhaust pipe.
Still burning from the ride.
It hit fast—white-hot and sharp.
I sucked in air that felt like broken glass.
Klay didn’t move.
Didn’t flinch.
He just watched.
Silent and expressionless.
Likethis was punishment.
Or a lesson.
Finally, he let go and I crumpled.
My knees hit the pavement, scraping raw as my hands fumbled for balance but found nothing but concrete.
His voice was colder than the air, low and lethal, “Don’t ever disrespect me and my friends again.”
And then he was gone.
The engine roared, drowning out everything else.
Until there was nothing.
No sound.
