Page 13 of Freedom’s Inferno

Her eyes snapped to mine, blue fire blazing. “I’ll drive myself.” She flicked her gaze toward the garage like she could conjure her own car from thin air.

I swung a leg over the bike and settled in, letting the engine rumble to life beneath me. “Not happening. You think I’m letting you trail behind me, maybe decide to take a scenic detour all the way out of town? No. You’re with me.” I lifted the helmet again and held it out. “Put it on.”

Her lips parted, ready to launch a grenade of her own, but she caught herself, biting down on the words. She looked at the helmet, then at the street, then back at me. The longer she hesitated, the wider my grin spread.

“Jesus, Lana,” I drawled. “It’s not a collar. It’s a helmet.”

She crossed her arms, the picture of defiance. “You enjoy this far too much.”

“Probably.” I shrugged. “Now quit stalling. We don’t have all day.”

Her glare could have cut glass. But finally—finally—she snatched the helmet from my hand and shoved it over her head with a muttered curse.

I chuckled. “That’s a good girl.”

She swung onto the back seat with more venom than grace, hands hovering like she didn’t want to touch me. I could feel her seething, even if I couldn’t see her face.

“You’ll want to hold on,” I told her. “Unless you’d rather be roadkill.”

A beat of silence. Then, grudgingly, her arms slid around my waist. Her body pressed against my back, stiff as iron. I smirked into the wind, revving the throttle.

This is going to be more fun than I’d thought.

The engine snarled and the bike leapt forward. Her gasp was swallowed by the whip of the wind, grip tightening around my waist, pride losing to survival as she held me firmer.

At eighty, the houses blurred into streaks of brick and glass. At one hundred, the road stretched into a tunnel, the air battering us with invisible fists.

She hated it: every lurch of the machine, every tilt of my body that forced hers to follow. She let out a thin, involuntary breath against my neck each time it shifted. But no safer cage for her existed beyond clinging to me. She tucked her head closer, maybe to avoid the wind, maybe because instinct made her fold into me.

I tried not to think about the heat of her chest pressed to my back, or the way her thighs clamped the bike. The logical part of me screamed to stay away. I wanted no part of this woman. Still, I wore the body of a man, and sometimes those parts were harder to control.

By the time I cut the engine outside the diner, my blood hummed. The sudden silence rang louder than the ride. I swung off first, tugging my helmet free, and turned to watch her.

She peeled the half-shell off like it had offended her personally, shaking her hair back into place. Her glare found me instantly, as sharp as ever.

“Enjoy yourself?” she asked, voice sweet as poison.

I smirked, dangling my keys on one finger. “Didn’t hear you complaining when you were holding on for dear life.”

Her nostrils flared, but she didn’t fire back.

I was on a winning streak. I didn’t hold the door open for her as I strode into the diner, laughing as it swung back to slam in her face. The hostess gave me a reproachful glare, but I didn’t care. Let her judge me, what did she know?

Lana pushed her way inside, palms dragging down her thighs as if she needed to wipe off the sweat from her harrowing ride over. She pinned me with a look of disdain, before turning to the hostess.

“Two, please.”

“Right this way…”

My eyes were already searching as I lowered myself into the booth across from Lana. I was telling the truth when I told her I was starving, but that wasn’t the only reason we were here.

The waitress came by with a pot of coffee, and I absently peeled the lid off a container of creamer to stir it into my mug.

Lana dumped an absurd amount of sugar into hers.

My eyebrow rose.“Do you want some coffee with that?”

Her lips pulled into a frown. “What?”