Glancing down, Ash realized they were in even deeper trouble.
The needle on the gas gauge trembled, hovering just above empty. “Goddamn it!” He’d skipped refueling, thinking he had plenty to get home, but it wasn’t enough for a high-speed chase over mountain roads.
Now each second at full throttle was draining what little remained.
The pickup’s engine changed pitch behind them. Ash glanced in the mirror and saw the truck wasn’t slowing for the curve this time. It was accelerating.
Metal slammed against metal as the pickup rammed into the bike’s rear. The rear wheel lost traction, skidding sideways while the front wheel jerked in the opposite direction. Rubber shrieked against asphalt.
Time turned into heartbeats.
Danny’s grip loosened. His scream tore through the evening sky as they went airborne, suspended in the terrible moment before gravity claimed them.
With one desperate twist of his body, Ash lunged for Danny’s wrist, his fingers closing around it just as their bodies began to separate.
He yanked Danny into his arms, curling his larger body around the smaller frame like a living shield.
His mate tucked his legs in instinctively.
One heartbeat.
Danny’s fingers clawed desperately at Ash’s shirt.
Two heartbeats.
Ash tucked his mate’s head beneath his chin, locking him in place as the asphalt rushed up to meet them.
Half a second.
Impact.
A primal roar tore from his throat as his left side exploded with white-hot agony, asphalt tearing through skin then muscle.
The world spun in violent flashes—sky, ground, sky, ground. Each rotation brought fresh waves of agony as they tumbled down the incline. Still, Ash’s arms remained vise-tight around Danny, his grip never loosening.
The violent shred of pavement suddenly gave way to grass. Relief flickered just as something solid cracked against Ash’s skull. Bright lights burst behind his eyes then scattered into pinpricks of white against encroaching darkness, sounds stretching into distorted echoes.
His last coherent thought was that his mate had survived.
Chapter Eight
Danny struggled to free himself from arms that had protectively held him just moments before. He wiggled and twisted against the steel bands that refused to let go. Finally, they went slack, and Danny tumbled free in a disorienting blur. Staggering to his feet, he swayed as the world tilted, feeling seconds away from throwing up. His legs buckled beneath him, crashing him back to the ground.
“Ash,” Danny groaned, clawing the grass to reach him. Each pull forward made his nausea worse, but he needed to get to Ash, pausing when the helmet felt too tight. He couldn't breathe. His trembling fingers slipped against the clasp once, twice, before finally clicking it open. Tearing it off, Danny gulped fresh air into his burning lungs.
Why would someone try to run them off the road? Danny still felt the heat of that grill against his back, could still hear a strange ticking coming from inside the engine. He’d never been so terrified in his life.
And Ash?
Danny turned and crawled closer, his vision clearing enough to see how still he lying a few feet away.
Don’t think it. He’s not dead, just hurt. He’s just hurt, that’s all.
“Ash, you have to wake up.” Another wave of nausea rolled through his chest. “Ash, open your eyes.”
You think I’d ever let anything happen to you? Not in this lifetime, honey bear.
A quiet sob escaped. Ash hadn’t just promised safety. He’d become it. Even as they were falling, Ash's first instinct had been to reach for him, to shield him. Those hadn’t been meaningless words just to get Danny on his bike. Ash had proven he’d meant them, taking the hit instead of letting Danny get hurt. No one else had ever done that. No one else had offered him the safety Ash provided so effortlessly. He’d given Danny courage to reclaim himself, to step back into the light.
