“I like her.” Eros smiled.
Chapter Twelve
Karlyn
The wind whipped all around me, and I held tight as Indigo pushed his bike harder than mechanically possible. Right beside us, Eros kept pace, stone-faced as he maintained an eagle eye on his surroundings. The roar of the engines was a frantic symphony against the encroaching darkness, a desperate chase through a landscape I barely recognized. My grip on Indigo was my lifeline, his bike a steel steed carrying us away from the carnage, while Eros, a silent shadow, kept watch over our backs. Each bump, each swerve, sent jolts of fear through me, but also a flicker of something akin to resolve. Jackson’s voice, a ghost in the wind, reminded me to listen, to adapt, to survive. The forest, once a symbol of his wisdom, was now our refuge, a labyrinth of shadows where we hoped to outrun our pursuers.
We sped through the night, the moon a cold, indifferent witness to our flight. The scent of pine and damp earth, once a comfort, now mingled with the tang of fear and the lingering scent of blood. Indigo’s terse explanations about Nav, Cerberus, Morpheus, and Diamond Creek were a blur, fragments of a world I was trying to navigate, a world of clubs, wars, and bounties. The idea of being secured by the Silver Shadows, of waiting for Jackson, was a distant hope, a fragile ember against the encroaching darkness. Every snap of a twig, every distant engine growl, was a stark reminder that the hunt was far from over.
Eros’s words, however, offered a sliver of solace. “The best brother,” he’d called himself, and as he rode, a silent guardian, I felt a fragile trust bloom, a seed planted amidst the fear. He was part of Jackson’s chosen family, and perhaps, just perhaps, in this wild, unforgiving world, they could offer the protection I desperately needed. The wind screamed past, a desperate lullaby urging us onward, deeper into the unknown, toward a destiny that felt both terrifyingly uncertain and yet, irrevocably entwined with the shadows of my past.
There was still so much I hadn’t told Jackson. Hadn’t told anyone for that matter, and my gut was telling me that whatever was going on had more to do with me than Jackson. That somehow, I had entangled him in my past. A past I tried desperately to forget.
The landscape blurred into a monochrome smear of pine and rock as we ate up the miles. Indigo’s silence was a familiar comfort now, his focus unwavering on the road ahead, his body a solid presence against my fear. Eros rode shotgun, a constant vigilance in his eyes, his gaze sweeping the terrain as if expecting trouble to materialize from the very air. Diamond Creek was our destination—a haven, a place of refuge within the Silver Shadows’ compound. But the bounty on my head—a chilling certainty—gnawed at me.
It wasn’t just about hiding; it was about surviving long enough for Jackson to find me, to pull me back from the cliff I was precariously teetering on.
The whispers of the forest, once a source of solace, now seemed to carry the weight of my secrets. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, amplified the turmoil within me. The deeper we rode, the more the memories surfaced—fragments of a past I desperately tried to outrun, a past that had entangled everyone I cared about in a deadly web.
My gut twisted with a dread that went beyond the immediate threat; it was the gnawing certainty that my choices, my very existence, had put them all in mortal danger. I was a beacon in this storm, and I was leading the wolves straight to his door.
The road ahead was uncertain; the winding path ahead held both the promise of sanctuary and the threat of exposure. Indigo’s grip on the handlebars was firm, a silent promise of protection, while Eros’s watchful presence was a constant reminder that we were not yet safe. The weight of my unspoken truths pressed down on me, a heavy cloak I couldn’t shed. I knew Jackson would come for me, that he always did, but the question that echoed in the roaring wind was whether I had already dragged him into a darkness he couldn’t escape.
Thunder rolled out of nowhere as I twisted my head and saw several bikes rolling up on us fast. My hold on Indigo tightened as a knot of dread coiled in my stomach. He revved his engine, pushing his bike faster as we sped down the long winding road. Part of me screamed to pull over, to face them, to reason with them, but the cold fear that gripped me knew that was a fool’s errand. Turning my head to look again, I glimpsed the cuts the bikers wore, and I stiffened.
It wasn’t the Death Dogs this time.
No, it was much worse. The jagged, stylized wings on their jackets—a symbol that made my stomach recoil, that instilled a deep-rooted fear that I knew intimately—had terror coursing through my veins.
I couldn’t go back. I wouldn’t.
I wouldn’t survive it again.
“Satan’s Angels,” I shouted into the mic in my helmet, my voice cracking, a wave of nausea washing over me. Indigo cursed beside me, the sound rough and strained.
“What the fuck is going on?” I heard Eros’ voice crackle in my helmet, laced with confusion that mirrored my growing panic.
“Guess that explains how the Death Dogs have gotten so big,” Indigo stated, his voice tight with a realization that sent a fresh shiver down my spine. “They are aligned.”
“Fuck,” Eros growled. “I need to contact Nav and let him know that the Death Dogs aren’t the only club heading for Diamond Creek.”
“Can we outrun them?” I asked, my eyes glued to the mirrors. The headlights were closer now, a menacing swarm. My mind flashed to the faces of the innocents in Diamond Creek, trusting us to protect them. Could I live with myself if I led these devils straight to their door? The urge to ditch Indigo, to make a run for it alone, gnawed at me, a selfish impulse I immediately loathed.
But the thought of what they would do to those people...
“Call it in, Eros. Call for help!” Indigo shouted, his desperation evident. He, too, glanced back, his jaw set. “We will not make it to Diamond Creek without help! Tell Nav... tell him we need everything he’s got. Even if it means... even if it means we have to divert them. Sacrifice a part to save the whole.”
Indigo’s unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Divert them where? To whom? My stomach churned. Was I truly willing to lead them on a chase, potentially endangering other innocent towns, just to buy time for Diamond Creek? The thought was abhorrent, yet the alternative—letting them reach Diamond Creek unchecked—felt like a betrayal of everything I stood for. I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief second, the impossible choice a burning brand on my conscience.
“Just pull over and let them have me. I won’t let anyone else get hurt because of me. They want me.”
“Fuck that!” Indigo shouted as I heard Eros growl. “We don’t trade lives, babe. Besides, we’re more scared of Jackson than those fuckers. Just hang tight. Help is coming.”
As the bikes ate up the miles, Indigo stayed ahead, speeding through time as the early morning sun crested the horizon.Indigo swore and his grip on the handlebars tightened as the thunder of the approaching engines grew louder, closer. Eros, with his face a mask of grim determination, was already on his radio, his voice low and urgent against the din of our own engines.
Trembling, I clung to Indigo, my eyes wide with fear that mirrored the dawning dread in my gut. Satan’s Angels. The name itself was a brand, a legacy of violence and terror that clawed at the edges of my carefully constructed composure. Their alignment with the Death Dogs, a brutal synergy of ruthlessness, meant this chase had just escalated from a desperate flight to a war of attrition.
The road ahead twisted and turned, a desperate serpent slithering through the unforgiving terrain. The thunder of the approaching bikes was a relentless percussion, a drumbeat of doom that pounded in my ears. Each surge of acceleration, each lean into a curve, felt like a gamble with fate. I was a pawn, a prize, and the stakes were my life, and the lives of everyone who dared to protect me.
