Page 76 of That Girl is Trouble

I take the off-ramp too fast, and Kat’s whole body squeezes against mine as I curve the bike so hard that our legs are practically grinding against the road. For a quick heart-stopping moment, I think I might lose control, the body of the bike taking on a slight wobble. The threat of the pavement grinds beneath us, but I’m suddenly on another straight stretch, and I regain control and slow my speed.

Thick brush surrounds the road on both sides, the pavement bumpy. An old road leading to bumfuck cottage country. Nowhere really to go but deeper into the wood.

Sirens scream at our backs. They’re too close. Likely hitting the ramp or maybe already coming off. I slam hard on the brake, making the back tire fishtail as I skid into a hidden gravel driveway and kill the engine. We’ve barely come to a stop, but as if reading my mind, Kat jumps off the machine, her balance failing her. Her body hits the road with a hard thump, but she doesn’t make a sound. She just rolls into the brush next to us and settles deep into the ditch lining the laneway. I give the bike a big kick, tossing it into the ditch opposite, cringing at the sound of paint scratching against the rock, before I quickly dive in next to Kat.

We fall silent.

Crickets sing around us as the sound of the siren gets louder. Breath ragged, chests pumping up and down as our hearts hammer from the adrenaline, we lie, unmoving, deep in the brush. She grabs my hand and clutches it tightly as the first cruiser whirls by and then fades out, and then a second goes by, and then a third. Three fucking cop cars. Fuck me.

We’re still until the sirens fade farther down the road, and then she lets out a squeal of a laugh and flips up her visor. Her eyes are wide, brows high on her forehead, mouth open in shock.

“Holy shit! Holy fucking shit!” she yells. And then she laughs, pulling off her helmet completely as I pull off mine. Holy fucking shit is right. She tugs my hand to her chest and settles it against her battering heart. “You feel that? Can you breathe? I can’t fucking breathe.”

I huff out a laugh and press her hand to my chest the way she’s pressing mine to hers. “Fucking barely. Jesus fuck. Do not tell anyone I took you on this ride. Your sister will have my head.”

She snorts. “Since when are you scared of my sister?”

“The woman’s got my VP on a leash. All she’s gotta do is point, and that man will put a bullet in my brain. Or at the very least beat the hell out of me. Much worse than the last beating I took for you.”

Still on her back, Kat shifts closer, her shoulder brushing against me, her hand still holding mine tight to her chest. A bead of sweat drips from her temple. “You gotta let me drive that thing back.”

I shoot her a scowl. “You think I’d let you take that bike to the highway with three cops on our ass? You’d kill us.”

She rolls her eyes. “Come on. I can ride.”

“Yeah? Since when?”

Laughing, she says, “Since Jess—” Her words die, the smile melting from her face.

I can feel it—the cringe, the tightness winding in her chest. Her grip around my fingers loosens, and she adds a sliver of space between us.

She clears her throat. “I just mean… I’ve picked up some stuff from you guys, that’s all.”

The look she gives me is unreadable. Eyebrow arched, bottom lip pulled into her teeth, unwavering gaze locked on me. I can’t tell if she’s pissed or just daring me to doubt her. Either way, I’m not about to let Kat go and prove anything. Especially if that something could have her eating pavement or getting thrown into a jail cell.

It’s bad enough I was riding that hard with her. Handing over control when she’s giving me that look? Fuck no. I can still hear those sirens wailing in the distance, and I’d bet my life Kat wouldn’t hesitate to kick off round two.

That shit would definitely get her blood pumping.

“Neither one of us is driving that thing back, Kitty.” I remove my hand from her chest so I can dig into my pocket and pull out my phone. Still sprawled on my back, I shoot off a quick message to Preacher. As I expect, he’s quick to respond, so I send him a pin drop to my location and then shove my phone back into my jacket. “Preach is on his way.”

“Seems like a waste. The bike’s right there. We can just go.”

I level her with a stare. “I can’t think straight with you at the back of my bike when I’m in that kind of shit. There’s only one way out of situations like that for me, and it’s not in a pair of fucking handcuffs. So no, you don’t get to drive. We’re gonna sit here and wait for our ride, and you’re not gonna bitch about it.”

She narrows her eyes. “What do you mean by that? What other way are you talking about?”

When I say I’m never going back to prison, I fucking mean I’m never going back to prison. It’s not an option for me, and that’s the crux of it, because whatever risk I have to take to get away, I will. A cement box will never be where I kick my feet up at the end of the day. Not ever again. If it had been just me ripping down that road today, it wouldn’t have even been a question. Don’t stop. Ride until I lose them. Even if it means I end up skidding across the pavement. Even if it means I end up eating the front of an eighteen-wheeler.

For a split second, when her arms tightened around me, reminding me that it wasn’t just me on that bike, I considered slowing down. Those cherries flashed in my mirror, and I thought maybe I could let them take me. Serve the time. It would have been the better option today, one that wouldn’t have had me risking both our lives because I’m too much of a pussy to go back in there.

Maybe that makes me less of a man, what I was willing to risk today so I could keep breathing this air.

Wind slamming against my helmet, the rush of it slipping into the folds of my jacket, Kat’s grip on my body getting tighter. Losing that? Trading that in for what awaits me behind those iron bars? I couldn’t do it. Instead, I opted to ride as hard as I could and hoped to fuck I could find a way out that didn’t end with one or both of us in a fucking body bag.

Kat’s eyes widen, as if the meaning behind my words suddenly makes sense. She pushes up. “You can’t be serious. You can’t—you wouldn’t do that. Risk your life just to avoid prison. That’s insane.”

“I would,” I say, pushing up with her. “I did. Today. And I dragged you right along with me because I can’t ever go back. It’s no life, Kat. I won’t do it.”

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