The Russians Hannigan had hired as muscle had all already pleaded guilty to simple kidnapping, which was a minor charge in California, but there was nothing more to do about that. It was over.
“And you have my watch?”
“I do, and there’s one other thing… I called the doc.”
“What did he say?”
I took a breath. “She said it would be hard.”
She giggled. “You have a tattoo for anybody who tells you that.”
“I have to admit I’m a little scared.”
“Then today’s the day. Can we have lunch?”
“Sure. But I’m on my bike. Where can I meet you?”
“I know. Santa Monica Pier at noon.”
Peyton
I stoodat the edge of the parking lot wearing my shortest dress and the bulky backpack while I waited for Zane.
The sound of a Harley approaching filled the air.
The rider had greasy hair flowing out from under his skullcap helmet and a big beer belly. “Wanna ride?”
“No, thanks. I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”
He left just before I saw Zane turn the corner on his Yamaha R1.
Yes, I’d looked it up.
He backed his bike up to the curb and dismounted.
I rushed up and wrapped him in a hug before he even got his helmet off. It was silly, but I’d missed him.
He removed his helmet and tapped my backpack. “What’s this?”
I took it off and pulled out the pretty pink helmet I’d bought.
“Really?”
“I know that seeing the doctor about your nightmares is a scary thing.”
He turned his head to look at the ocean. “It’s fine.”
That was a lie. I knew guys had difficulties talking about their emotions, and admitting fears was even worse. This was both combined.
“So…” I placed a hand on his chest. “I promise to help you with that in any way I can if you help me get over my fear of motorcycles.”
His hands moved to my hips. “You’re going to ride with me?”
“I hear there’s a cute restaurant at Zuma Beach.”
“That’s a fairly long ride up the PCH.”
I nodded. “I know.” If I did this, I was going all out.
