Page 55 of Bullseye
So, I’m no longer a Knight. And Seneca is gone. At least two men are trying to kill me, and I’m heading back to the one place my father warned me not to go.
Fuck. Sounds like another typical chapter in the life story of Avery “Bullseye” Pairings.
Chapter Fourteen
Wildfire
Uh-oh…
Oh crap. Bouncing on my toes to try to stay warm as I stand here, gassing up my bike, I throw my nose into the air and sniff. The weather is changing. I can tell by the air. Yeah, I’ve been riding as many hours a day as I can, clocking about three-hundred-and-fifty miles per day—which is a crazy number, and is absolutely killing my kidneys—but I’m probably as far as Ohio by now.
Thank heavens for these little gas stations and minimarts in the middle of nowhere.
Even without looking at a GPS or a single street sign, I can feel that I’m closing in on the east coast. Settling on me now is that certain type of cold air that seems to be exclusive to New York and New England. It’s a bone-chilling, wet cold, and when the air is like this—cutting right through my jacket, jeans, and leather chaps like it’s nothing—crap. That means some serious freaking snow is on the way.
Damn, these thin leather gloves I use for riding never keep my hands warm. Blowing air into my free hand to give it some heat, I glance around and at the store behind me. The big sign in the window lists rules about cigarettes and Ohio State Law. Maybe a pack of cigarettes would work to keep me warm? I don’t actually have to inhale the damned things, just let them work as my own miniature heaters?
Chuckling, I turn my attention back to my bike that’s nearly filled. Yeah, cigarettes are a great plan. Flicking away little bits of burning embers that fly into my eyes, that is, if the cigarette would last more than a second as I whiz down the highways at eighty—or ninety—miles an hour.
Sighing, my mind wanders to Avery, and I wonder what he’s doing now. Has he forgotten me like he should? Closing my eyes for a moment, I imagine him shirtless in the warm Arizona sun, walking toward me…
That’s an image that’s warming me from the inside…No. Focus, Sen. You needed to leave him behind. It’s the only way to keep him safe.
Stopping is always hard because it’s the only time my mind is free enough to think about Avery. It’s only been a couple of days since I’ve seen him, but God, do I miss him. I used to bump into him at the Taphouse every day, and even though we were only together that one night and morning—we had something real. I know we did.
And that’s why, every time sadness feels like a real, tangible thing that’s choking me—threatening to tighten its grip and suffocate me—I remind myself that it’s because I do care about him so much that I have to run. Now that I’m certain Mikey and Tony know where I am, it will only be a matter of time before they come after me. Then they’ll go after the people I care about—and that means Avery.
Replacing the nozzle in the pump and screwing on my gas cap, I shake my head when I think about my plan for coming to Hoppa. It was such a short time ago, and yet, I had such a different perspective. I was going to find Bullseye, the one guy in the club who had a rep for liking women and believing in equal rights in the club, make him like me, and then pledge for the Steel Knights so I would have protection if Mikey and Tony decided to pay me a visit. It all seemed so logical. And it was; until I did the most illogical thing of all.
I fell for Bullseye. And now, I can’t let anything bad happen to him, no matter what I have to do. Even if that means never seeing him again.
Securing my bike, I decide to give my kidneys a much-deserved break and hit the restroom and grab some snacks. Pulling open the door of the minimart, I’m immediately welcomed by warm air. I don’t even care that it smells like burnt hot dogs and orange bathroom cleaner. Compared to some of the places I’ve had to stop on the way…? I’m grateful this place bothers to clean its bathrooms at all.
Removing my helmet and finger-brushing my hair, I nod to the man behind the counter. He looks up from eating his package of crumb donuts and nods back, as he yanks up the waistband of his pants. Then he looks me up and down.
With my training in Krav Maga, I’m not the slightest bit worried about him accosting me. One try, and I could knock him on his out-of-shape ass, killing him.
A shudder washes over me and I close my eyes, willing the man to stay put… I don’t want to kill anyone. Ever. Not only would I never want to take someone’s life—even someone who was attacking me—I’d never want to suffer the consequences. I’ve seen the inside of a jail too many times when I visited my brother.
I take a deep breath, trying not to worry about Matt.
After rushing to the women’s room to do my business, I slow down when I wash my hands. Staring into the foggy and cracked bathroom mirror, I see a woman I don’t know. Sure, I changed my look from the Long Island princess that I was all those years ago, but it’s more than that. I look tired. And hardened. And… discouraged.
But I will not give up. Matt needs me.
Drying my hands in the air dryer, I sigh. It’s been so long since I’ve seen Matt, and I miss him, but he was right. I had to run. The irony is, by telling me to run, he thought he was protecting me, but I only agreed to it so I could stay alive to come back and fight his case. And now that Mikey and Tony are out, there’s going to be hell to pay. For them. I will make sure those scumbag lowlifes fess up to the murder and get my brother acquitted if it’s the last thing I do.
One thing’s for sure, this would be so much easier if there were another witness. Someone who could step forward and say that Matt didn’t pull the trigger. Yeah, Matt was there on a drug deal gone bad, and he’s not innocent, but he did not do this.
However, it’s not like that person’s going to come riding up on a shining Harley—like a knight on a stallion—and offer himself up. So, as usual, it’s up to me, and me alone.
Yanking open the bathroom door, I march out into the minimart and grab some granola bars, healthy chips, and I splurge on a fruit cup that looks like it was made within this century, at least. Walking over to the counter, I lay my things down and turning my head, I look outside. The sky is gray. Dark gray. Shit.
Glancing up at the man behind the counter, I nod. “Bad weather expected?”
“Oh, yeah.” He takes my items and drags them across a scanner. “Storm. Nor’easter. We’re going to get zonked. It’s all anyone’s been talking about. You haven’t been watching the weather?”
Shaking my head, I glance outside again. The snow has started falling, and it’s that fast-falling sideways snow.
