Page 50 of Bride for the Bikers

Outlaw stops me when I run for the door. “What the fuck are you doing?” I struggle against him, but his grip is iron. “You're not going out there.”

More gunshots sound out there, and someone screams. Oh God, oh God, oh God. It didn’t sound familiar, but… “What if it's—”

“They can take care of themselves,” he snaps, but I don't miss the tension in his voice. “There's nothing you can do about it, so we're gonna keep you safe. Come.”

He drags me towards a door at the other end of the room that’s marked with a lightning bolt. Inside, there’s a faint hum, and a soft breeze of slightly cool air blowing past us. A maintenance room of some sort, maybe?

No sooner has Outlaw closed the door behind us, putting us in near complete darkness, before there are voices right outside. “Someone went in here. I'm positive,” snarls a male voice. I breathe in very, very shallow breaths, sure that someone's bound to hear my heart thundering.

“Come.” Outlaw's lips brush my cheek as he speaks. He uses the faint light of the machinery to examine the room.

Next to a large cabinet, there's a grate in the wall where the air's coming through. He pulls out a pocket knife, and uses it to work out the screws that are holding the cover in place. It’s not easy work, and the knife tools aren’t quite the right size, but he stays focused and keeps going.

“What was that?” A different voice, male, but higher. “We should call 911. This is above my pay grade.” Further away now, there's another gunshot.

Two of the screws are out, and one looks like it's missing. That leaves one more. I think I know what Outlaw's plan is, and I don’t like it one bit. I'm not claustrophobic, but is crawling around in air ducts a thing people can actually do outside movies?

“Fine, but check the closet first.”

Oh no.

The last screw comes loose, and Outlaw pulls it open. “Quick,” he hisses, and for once, I don't argue or hesitate. He grabs my hips and helps.

The duct is as dirty as I imagined. I grimace as I military crawl into it. In the dark it's hard to get a sense for how big it is, but if it feels this cramped for me, I can't imagine how it must feel for Outlaw. Assuming he's coming, but… he wouldn’t leave me here alone, right? I panic and freeze.

But no, he’s right behind me, shoving my ass. I scrabble forwards as quickly as I can, hoping he's getting enough space.

“Keep moving,” he hisses, the sound bouncing off the inside of the duct. I feel like we must be super loud, but maybe it's just because it's so quiet in here. Something clicks behind us, but I don't know if it's Outlaw somehow putting the grate back in place, or the door opening. There’s nowhere to go but forwards. I’m one hundred percent convinced that I'm going to hit a turn so sharp that I don't have room to turn, or that we're going to get stuck and die in here, and they won't find us until we start to smell.

I take back everything I thought about this being a little fun.

There’s so much dust up my nose, or at least I’m telling myself that it really is just dust, and not spider webs that might have actual spiders still attached. I’m not a wimp, but ugh. “Do you think they're gone?” I take the chance to whisper.

“Yeah, but I don’t know how far. Keep going.” Outlaw doesn't sound any more thrilled about this than I am. “There's gotta be another way out.”

Another gunshot goes off, but nowhere close. I struggle my way forwards until I reach a corner, squeezing around. It’s a good thing I’m in here with Outlaw and not Thunder or Lightning who would never fit. The breeze is getting stronger, and there's a rumble up ahead. What if there’s a big fan up ahead that I’ll fall right into and get spit out like a—Nope. Can’t think about that. “Where's this going to take us?”

“I have no fucking idea. Shadow has the map. Keep going.”

“Wait. I think I see another grate.” We keep crawling, and sure enough, there’s a way out into a dark room. “I think it's screwed shut like the other one.”

“Fuck. Try giving it a push.”

I try. I really do, but it's stuck. “No chance.”

“Let me have a go.” He starts shuffling forwards, pressing up alongside me.

“What are you doing? There's not enough room.”

Somehow, he manages to slide along my body, pressing himself in between me and the duct. My back's forced hard against it, my shirt is pulled up, and there's something digging into the small of my back, but if he can get us out, I'm willing to try anything. He pauses, face to face with me, his arms outstretched to work on the grate and his one leg squeezed tight between my thighs. It's the sexiest position I've ever been in without feeling sexy whatsoever.

“Can you get it?”

“Maybe, but talking won’t help.” It's too dark for me to see what he's fiddling with, but the scraping noises indicate that he's not being idle.

“Should I slide down?” I don't really want to, but I guess it'd give him more room.

“If you wanna suck dick, this isn't really the time.”

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