Now, the city blurs by us as Kat drives with her grip tight on the handlebars. She maintains pure focus while she darts down the strip, glancing in her mirrors from time to time.
It’s a strange feeling to be her passenger, holding on with a conservative grip as she takes the reins. But she was close to begging for the chance to drive it, and as much as I would’veenjoyed that, I was making this her night, and I thought I’d spare her dignity. For now, anyway.
The city blurs by while she continues, and regardless of how relaxed she became throughout the night, I can feel how rigid she is again, almost like something’s wrong.
A cold prickle spreads down my spine while my instincts fire off about whatever is subconsciously bothering me, too.
For a moment, I consider the fact that I’ve given Kat control, and maybe in some capacity, that isn’t the smartest move.
She could steer us off course if she really wants to. She could even take us right to Yuri and have him pick me off. She might even take me straight to the cops and hope for the best.
They’re all viable ideas, along with many other potential outcomes, but I don’t regret it.
She had the chance to run to Yuri’s guy back at the casino, yet she stayed with me and even informed me of his presence.
It was a small thing, but she did what was in my best interest. And hers.
Maybe I shouldn’t read into that fact too much, but I can’t help it. Maybe she isn’t as repulsed by me as she makes herself out to be.
But even while I try to take in the relative peace between us, and the way her curves feel under my grasp, that dread in the pit of my stomach only gets worse, and then I spot them.
A black car slides into view in one of the side mirrors, seemingly doing everything it can to press closer, weaving in and out of traffic until it’s directly behind us. They’re too close. The kind of close that never results in anything good.
“We’ve got company,” I say through the communicators in our helmets, already reaching into my jacket for my pistol.
Kat doesn’t say anything at first, but her posture shifts as more tension moves through her. She picks up the speed while she glances through her mirrors. “It’s that asshole, isn’t it?”
“That’d be my guess,” I tell her, glancing over my shoulder at the assailants. “Don’t panic. Just drive.”
She nods, but I can tell she’s bracing herself for the worst already. As she weaves in and out of traffic, Kat veers off the main strip. “This isn’t how most fun nights out end.”
She’s right about that…for most people.
I risk another glance over my shoulder, gauging the situation before I open fire. The sound of the car engine picks up as they turn with us, speeding to catch up.
A glint of metal from inside the car catches my eye. Shit.
Gunfire erupts from behind us, tinging off the asphalt and the Panigale while Katya presses harder, going as fast as she can push the bike.
She turns left hard, trying to avoid the rain of bullets coming down in our direction, making the tires screech.
I fire off several rounds at the SUV’s grill, putting enough heat on them to swerve instinctively, but not enough to stop them entirely. It’ll take a lot more than that.
“They’re still on us,” Kat growls out, visibly furious while she continues to drive, tearing down a side street to stay away from the crowd of traffic.
“We have to lose them,” I tell her, keeping my eyes on the persistent car behind us, firing off rounds as I can while trying to maintain balance.
“I’m working on it.”
And work on it she does.
Kat whips down the side streets and alleyways, proving to be even better than I expected. She doesn’t panic, regardless of the heat on us and how all of this could go south in a matter of seconds.
Instead, she maintains an impressive control, and it only makes my blood run hotter.
Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or maybe it’s just her. Either way, I have half the mind to wish we weren’t preoccupied.
The car struggles to keep a straight path while the driver and passenger fire off their rounds, letting their bullets fly past the motorcycle. Regardless of the turns we take, they persist, undeterred by whatever bins or garbage bags they may hit in the meantime.
