Snow blurred past us.
Headlights cut through the wall of snow and fog on the other end of town.
Red and blue lights whirled like some caricature of a carnival game.
I took the turn fast enough to lean the bike and cause a small squeal from Noelle.
I couldn’t let go of the handlebars long enough to pat her leg in comfort.
She clung to me, her cheek pressed into the ridge of my spine.
We’d made it out.
We hit the final turn, and I opened up the throttle a little more.
Almost there.
My adrenaline burned through me, the taste of it coppery on my tongue.
The red haze faded as the threat receded.
The gang wouldn’t follow us.
They knew better.
Yes, we’d gone into one of their establishments, but they had our woman.
We were justified, especially when we saw them manhandling her.
We all knew better than to snitch to the cops about what had happened.
They might hate us, but they wouldn’t put their own club at risk like that.
As long as we didn’t get caught, everything would be fine.
By the time we reached the clubhouse, the tension had eased enough that I didn’t feel like a coiled spring ready to snap.
I rolled up into the garage and killed the engine.
The others came in behind me in twos and threes.
Rafe and Ash remained hot on my tail, their bikes blocking me in from behind.
I shook out my hands and helped Noelle off the bike, scanning her from head to toe. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, brushing snow off her coat. “I’m fine.”
I caught the tremor in her hands and the way she worked the belt of her coat between her fingers.
Assholes.
They’d scared her.
Or maybe we’d all scared her.
I replayed the fight, looking for any sign that I had been the one to put that look in her eyes.
My jaw tightened until pain spiked down my neck.
