Page 16 of Dutch

Dutch and I climbed back on the bike. His scent hit me, and I was transported back in time.

He revved the engine. "Hold on tight," he instructed over his shoulder.

The vibration of the Harley ran through me, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. Memories flooded me, but I shook my head, not wanting to get lost in the past.

"Are you ever going to upgrade this rust bucket, or are you waiting for it to fall apart?"

"Baby, don't hate the classics. This bike has more character in the spark plugs than most people do on a good day.

"Character, more like tetanus," I quipped.

He reached back and squeezed my thigh, sending a jolt through me. "Keep trash-talking, London, and you'll see what happens."

"Keep dreaming, old man."

I couldn't help but smile. It felt like old times before my loss and pain. Small parts of me wished we could stay suspended in time forever. After a while, the landscape changed, and the sky lightened a bit.

"Dutch, you never told me where we're going."

He didn't immediately answer. "Somewhere safe," he finally responded.

"That's cute, safe in our world." I almost believed we could outrun my problems. The road narrowed and then there was a dense patch of woods. "Dutch."

"I see it, hang on," he muttered.

My eyes scanned the tree line. "What's the play?" I asked.

The words barely left my mouth when the crack of gunfire sent bullets whizzing by us like angry hornets.

"Fuck!" Dutch roared, gunning the engine. His tires screeched against the asphalt as we lurched forward.

I clung to him as if my life depended on it. Well, it kind of did. "What the fu?—"

Another shot clipped his side mirror, and glass sprayed, stinging my cheek.

"Hold on!" Dutch yelled. He swerved hard, taking us off the main road and into this brush.

Branches whipped at our faces as we careened through the trees. The bike jolted beneath us, threatening to flip us with each dip or bump. Suddenly, we were airborne, and my heart stopped for a moment before crashing down hard. Dutch groaned in pain as the impact jarred us.

"Dutch!" I shouted, but my voice was swallowed up by more gunfire.

We burst through the tree line onto an old logging road. The engine was screaming as Dutch pushed the Harley to its limits. I looked back to see the dark shape emerge from the trees. They were still in pursuit.

"They're still behind us!" I yelled.

Dutch didn't respond, but I felt his muscles tense under my hands. We rounded a sharp turn, and suddenly, the bike slid out from under us. Time slid to a crawl as I felt myself being thrown.

Dutch reached for me, but I hit the ground, and my world went black.

"Are you okay?"I asked, my voice harsher than I expected it to be.

Makari nodded. "Yeah, but I got the fucking wind knocked out of me."

I looked around the lot we landed in as the broken glass from my mirror reflected my thoughts. My bike had taken a beating, but it would live to ride another day.

"Look, we better bounce in case more assholes are on our tail."

"Who the hell were those guys?" Makari asked.

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