Page 96 of Rival to the Billionaire

Until Jenny showed up and blew me apart again. Until Jenny showed me what it's like to live again.

And now, all I feel is the warmth of her smile on my lips, her soft laughter in my ears and her hazel eyes looking at me with love and trust.

I try to chase that feeling away with more speed. But it doesn't work.

I'm flying as fast as I can, but it still isn't fast enough. It's never going to be enough.

Because Jenny is the kind of love that haunts me.

Now nearing 120 mph, I fly past the red light at 22nd Avenue, and keep the engine revving hard as I put extra weight on the back tire.

The bike starts to fishtail a little, but I lean into it and keep going full throttle. The streets are empty and clear.

And then suddenly I feel it.

Sensation.

A prickling feeling in my chest. My heart. A thumping in my right ear that drives me to glance at the speedometer and see I'm going way over 100 mph…and then I look at the rear-view mirror and see the lights of a police car behind me.

"Shit."

I pull over to the side of the road and turn off my bike, removing my helmet as I wait for the cop to come towards me.

A minute later a tall, lean, gray-haired man wearing a blue uniform gets out of his vehicle and strolls towards me.

"License and registration, please," he demands.

I get ready to hand the asshole that's getting in the way of my fun my license. I forget that the tiny bottle of bourbon I had on my bike still sits in my backpack. We both notice it as I reach for the license, and we both freeze.

"Is that alcohol?" he asks.

"Uh, it's for a friend."

He scowls and shakes his head. "If I find more than half an ounce of alcohol on you, you'll be going to jail." He comes closer and looks inside my backpack. "Are you sure you don't have any more?"

"Relax. I'm good." I pull the bottle out of my backpack and hand it to him. "It's all here. Half an ounce."

"Why are you out driving so fast and so reckless?"

"I'm not reckless," I protest automatically. "There were no cars on the road."

"And what about pedestrians?" he asks. "I was told a reckless driver almost killed a pedestrian tonight."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Alright, turn off your engine and step over to my car."

"What?" I argue. "I haven't done anything wrong."

He sighs and picks up the radio to call in. "I'm going to need back up. This man's been drinking tonight. And he's not cooperating."

I can't believe that this cop has the nerve to try and bust me for drunk driving when I'm just out for a nice ride.

"I haven't been drinking," I tell him. "I only had half an ounce of bourbon. That's not even one drink."

"It's enough to make you dangerous," he says. "That and the empty container with your fingerprints on it says otherwise. Now turn off the engine and do not make any sudden movements. I'm not asking you a second time."

Okay…so maybe I'm being a little reckless. And maybe I did something stupid. But I've got to do something, and I've got to do it fast.

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