“Rally out by Miller’s farm. We’re debuting the new performance kit on Knight’s bike.” Riley’s light-green eyes flash with something vitalizing.
A rally is a gathering of bikers. It’s extremely common around here. Dozens and dozens of riders meeting in the middle of nowhere to race, drink, and party. They can get pretty intense. With money, drugs, and pink slips on the line, they can even end up deadly. Riders will bet almost anything for bragging rights. The hotter the commodity, the hotter the race.
How do I know? Because I’ve seen it. I lived it. When I was a different me, a lifetime ago.
“Damn. When are you going to bring my bike over already?” Reese demands.
“When you’re ready to ride it,” Riley informs him haughtily, holding it hostage. A minuscule amount of leverage over the great Reese Dane’s head. We know he’s fixed it. Even told Reese he added some new mods.
“I’ll be ready soon,” Reese cautions him darkly.
“We’ll be the judge of that.” He taps Knight’s chest, urging him to shift off the arm of the couch.
“The only person who judges me is God . . .And the IRTA.”
“IRTA?” I question.
“International Racing Association,” Reese clarifies.
“Of course.” How silly of me not to know that.
With the rustle of modified exhausts in the distance, Reese and I are left with just each other and the low hum of the television in the background.
I chew on my fingernail, lost in thought about Sam. I’ve barely seen her since she started investigating these overdoses. She’s convinced it’s local but has no leads or evidence to prove it. The only thing stringing these cases together is the bag the heroin is distributed in. The one with the wheel stamped on the front.
“Kayla. Earth to Kayla . . .” Reese demands my attention like he demands all the oxygen in the room.
“What?” I look over at him, removed.
“Where did you go? You love to take mental vacations.”
“Oh.” I swiftly come back to reality. “I was thinking about Sam. How hard she’s been working lately.”
“Some big case?” Reese knows what she does for a living.
“Yeah. The biggest in the area.”
“The heroin?” he guesses right. “Rough.”
“It sure is. I’ve barely seen her.”
“You miss her?” he asks genuinely interested.
“I do.” I perk up. “It sounds so corny, but she really is my best friend.”
“Not corny. Dev is my best friend. Just because you don’t see someone every day doesn’t mean your love or friendship fades. Take it from someone who’s been away from his friends and family for over a decade.”
I stare blankly at Reese. When the fuck did he become so prolific?
“What? I’m more than just a cocky asshole on a bike.” He defends himself.
I raise an eyebrow.
“You know, after you get to know me,” he tacks on.
“If you say so.” I pick up my empty bottle from the coffee table and shake it. “Ready for another?”
“Definitely.”
