Trixie was quiet, and he noticed. She stood by his side with her chin high and her eyes sharp as she watched everyone. He could tell that she was calculating her next move. Cyclops knew that trust didn’t come easy for her—not after what she’d been through with her father, but she was learning something important tonight. The Road Reapers weren’t her father’s men.
He didn’t expect her gratitude. But when her shoulder brushed his—purposefully this time—he felt something settle inside him. It was something dangerous, but it felt completely right. “All right,” Cyclops said, “Trixie, you ride with me. Venom and Ink, you’re riding tail. Razor, you run ahead and clear the compound. We leave in ten.”
Trixie froze, “Excuse me? I ride with you?” Her voice was sharp and defensive. He turned to her and saw her fear staring back at him while she tried to look defiant.
“Yeah,” he said. “Ride with me.”
“You want me to ride on the back of your bike for three hours?” she shot back. “Can’t we take a car or something?”
“There are no cars here right now,” he said.
“Let me ride my own bike. I know how to ride and can handle myself,” she insisted.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I’m not questioning what you can handle. But riding with me means you stay within reach if shit goes sideways. You want independence? You get it after we survive tonight.”
She glared at him. “You like giving orders, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he said honestly. “But I like keeping you alive more.” Her breath hitched. Just barely. Only someone watching her closely would’ve noticed, and he was watching her closely.
“If you ride with me,” he said softly, “I’ll know where you are at all times, and I’ll know that no one can touch you without going through me first.”
She hesitated for a long moment before nodding her agreement. “Fine,” she said, her voice low. “But only because your men don’t know me. If something happens, I don’t want to slow any of you down.”
Cyclops almost laughed. “Trixie, you’re the whole damn reason they’re coming.” She blinked at that. She wasn’t used to being the center of anything except the danger that her father had surrounded her with.
He handed her the helmet and watched as she put it on. Her hands shook only slightly, and he felt pride when he had no right to. When she wrapped her arms around him this time, it wasn’t out of desperation. It was a choice that she was making to go with him—willingly.
The convoy thundered out of the parking lot like a pack of wolves. Razor was up front, Venom and Ink were behind them, and Cyclops was dead center with Trixie pressed tight to his back. He felt her everywhere—her breath on his neck, her fingers gripping his cut, her body molded to his like she’d been made to fit there. He knew that they were all dangerous thoughts, but he couldn’t seem to stop them from consuming him.
The night air whipped past them, carrying the scent of pine and asphalt and something electric. Trouble was coming. He could feel it humming at the base of his spine, and it didn’t take long for it to catch up to them. About halfway down the highway, Trixie tapped his shoulder. It was the signal for him to slow down. He eased off the throttle until she leaned close enough to whisper into his ear.
“We’re being followed,” she breathed, and his blood ran cold.
“You sure?” he mouthed back over the engine.
“Yes, it’s a dark sedan. They don’t have their lights on, and they’ve been behind us since the exit ramp.” Cyclops didn’t turn his head to look back. He just shifted one hand to squeeze her leg in acknowledgment, letting her know that he’d handle whatever was back there.
He tapped his brakes twice—a signal that the riders behind him would understand instantly. Venom’s voice crackled through the comms. “We got company.”
Razor responded, “Two miles up, we’ve got a narrow stretch of road. You want me to box them in?” Cyclops considered it. A trap for a trap sounded about right to him.
“No,” he said, voice steady. “We take them where we want them to go.”
“And where’s that?” Ink asked.
Cyclops smiled to himself—a dark, feral smile. “Off the road.” He shifted his weight, revved the engine, and took the next turn so sharply that Trixie’s grip tightened around him like a vise. His brothers followed him as the whole line weaved onto the dark, tree-covered back roads where only locals dared to drive.
The sedan followed, and Cyclops almost felt sorry for them. They were persistent, he’d give them that. But that was what he wanted. Trixie leaned into his body, “You’re taking them into the woods?” she asked.
He glanced back at her. “Yes,” he breathed. “I’m taking them somewhere the odds are more even.”
“And what if they brought more than one car? What if this is exactly what they wanted?” she asked.
“Trixie.” His voice cut clean through her panic. “I told you earlier—we stand beside you.” He watched her in the rearview mirror as something flickered across her face. He wasn’t sure if it was fear, gratitude, or just something he wasn’t ready to name yet. “And right now,” he murmured, “I need you to trust me.”
Her lips parted. “I do,” she whispered into his ear, surprising the hell out of him. He didn’t expect her to actually admit that to him, but he was so damn happy that she did.
His heart kicked like a punch, but he didn’t have time to unpack the weight of her words. “Then hold on,” he growled. He gunned the engine, leading them down the dark back road as the sedan behind them accelerated.
