Figuring I don’t give enough of a fuck, I leave him and his shit-coloured car in the dust as I tear down the road at a speed that’s definitely not legal.
My Harley Davidson Softail growls beneath me as I lean to my left, following the curve of the road as it winds around thebend, my foot just inches above the tarmac as I make my way back towards Stillwater Falls.
There’s no better feeling than this.
The cool chill of the wind whipping up my hair, the warmth of the sun prickling my skin as I blast down the wide open road, straddling the line between life and death.
The danger’s not lost on me, how one split second could be the difference between living and dying, but that’s what makes it exciting.
I don’t fear death itself, I fear dying having never lived, and riding makes me feel alive. The adrenaline coursing through my veins is exhilarating, the dopamine hit is addictive and I’m yet to find anything to compare it to, not even sex.Thatcomes in a close second.
About a mile up the highway, I pull over onto the side of the road, needing to relieve the ache in my leg, my bike purring beneath me as the engine idles. It’s rare I walk away from a fight with more than a few surface cuts and bruises, I don’t usually allow my opponents the opportunity to do any proper damage, but today was not that day. The bastard clocked my left thigh with his foot while I was momentarily knocked off balance and while I don’t think it’s anything a couple beers and an aspirin won’t fix, it hurts like a bitch. It’s even making riding uncomfortable.
I hate that.
But aside from the kick to my thigh, I put him on the floor before he could get in another hit or kick and a round later, he tapped out and I was walking away with a fuck-ton of money.
My phone buzzesagainst my ribs and I reach inside my kutte, my fingers trailing over the envelope stuffed with cash as I pull out my phone from my inside pocket.
I huff out a laugh. I can almost hear Myles’ voice reading the messages aloud, all intense and grumbly. He’s my club’s President, and he’s one of the best fucking guys I know. I’d die for him if needed.
Amongst the texts from Myles, I notice a message from Jett, the club’s VP.
I’m about to type out a reply when another comes through from Myles.
I slide my phone back into my jacket pocket and rev the engine a few times before I ease back onto the road.
This is my favourite time to ride. The sun hasn’t long gone down. The road is long and wide, not a single person except for me around for miles. The cloudless azure sky disappearing as the setting sun paints the sky in rich hues of purples and oranges.
It’s gorgeous. Peaceful.
When I’m not inking someone’s skin, this is where I’m most content.
Just me and my bike, the open road with a beautiful fucking view.
Here, everything in my head goes silent.
It’s completely dark as I rumble through the quiet streets of Stillwater Falls. They’re completely deserted. I imagine everyone is at the town hall for the election, which I’m late for.
I turn the corner onto Main Street, the strip that runs through the centre of town, slowing to a crawl as I approach the red stop light up ahead. I plant my foot on the ground to stabilize the bike as I idle, the heavy chug of the engine filling my ears, the vibrations rippling through me.
Something moves up ahead and I catch sight of a woman walking down the sidewalk towards me. A wave of rich dark hair whipping around her head in the cool breeze. I can’t see her face because it’s buried in her phone as her thumbs tap away quickly. She’s so engrossed in it she hasn’t noticed I’m there.
My intrusive thoughts win as I rev the engine, thethunderous sound crackling through the empty street. Her phone flies up in the air in front of her, but by some miracle she manages to catch it.
She stops dead on the sidewalk, her gaze zoning in on me.
I lean back, smirking beneath the black bandana that covers the lower half of my face as my eyes rake over her.
Her face is shielded by the shadows cast down from the dim street lamps above, so I can’t see it clearly. But from what Icansee, she’s fucking stunning.
Dark hair frames her heart-shaped face, her nose is slender and her jawline soft. My eyes are drawn to her full plump fuckable lips that would look incredible wrapped around my cock. She’s young, maybe early to mid-twenties, no older than that. She’s slim but with curves in all the places I like, covered in a pair of skinny jeans and a plain white shirt with a denim jacket thrown over the top.
My dick immediately approves. Rising in the presence of a beautiful woman—he is a gentleman, after all.
I’ve lived in this town for five years. Granted, I didn’t grow up here like ninety-five percent of the town’s population, but I know nearly every single face. It’s easy in a town this size. But I don’t know hers.
When you see the same people day in day out, they tend to all blend into one pretty quickly. Not much captures my attention and not a lot holds it.
