Page 60 of The Ache That Stayed

“Keep your head down,” I barked.

Her arms locked tighter around my waist instantly.

The SUV swerved between lanes behind us, headlights jumping violently through traffic. Cars packed the lanes, brake lights glowing like a river of red.

Perfect.

I twisted the throttle again, surging forward, between a truck and a taxi. Then another gap. Then another.

Wind howled past my helmet. Behind us, the SUV fought through traffic, heavier, slower.

Roxanne made a small sound in my ear—half laugh, half disbelief. That sound shot straight to my cock and slammed into my chest at the same time. It was the best sound in the world.

Goddammit.

Priorities Santino. Priorities.

I reached back for a second, pressing my hand over her thigh, my palm sliding slowly over the fabric of her leggings.

Her thighs instinctively pressed against me.

“You still with me?” I asked.

“Unfortunately,” she huffed. Dry. Breathless.

Up ahead, the highway split. Instead of following the main road, I veered off sharply toward the underpass ramp. The pavement turned rough beneath the tyres. Gravel cracked under the bike as we dropped down a narrow service slope. A low bridge appeared ahead. The bike dropped into shadow.

Concrete swallowed the sound of the city as we shot beneath the overpass. A couple of other motorcycles were parked near the pillars, riders leaning against their bikes. A small group stood around a burning barrel, laughter echoing off the concrete. Two couples leaned against the concrete walls, tangled together like they’d forgotten the world existed. They barely looked up when we pulled in. Just another bike. Just another night.

I killed the engine. Roxanne pulled off her helmet and slid off the bike.

She turned to me, eyes blazing. “What the hell was that?”

She gestured toward the road.

“Nothing that concerns you.”

Her laugh was sharp. “It concerns me when they try to grab me as compensation and try to shoot at us.”

I ran a hand over my face. “I’ll handle it.”

“And why do you owe them money?” she said, crossing her arms.

“I don’t.” I snapped back.

“Then why were they—”

“I said I’ll handle it.”

“That’s not the fucking answer.”

I held her gaze for a moment.

“Fine. I’ll explain.” I looked toward the road. “Just not here.”

I shrugged off my jacket and handed it to her.

“Here.”