Page 58 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

It took a second for my words to sink in before everyone started shoving toward the exit. Owen the ranger shepherded people through the lobby, but they wouldn’t all make it.

I rushed through the crowd with Cohen on my heels, pushing to the garage doors, and keyed in the code to open them. Metallic creaks sounded as they began rolling up. A mass of bodies began to flee into the night. Then I saw the flashing red and blue lights, and my heart seized with dread.

“This little Pride party is over!” A familiar twang reverberated, and I peeked around the corner to see Mayor Buchanan holding a megaphone. He was grinning wildly as people scattered around the cop cars, his eyes clocking every face that ran by.

Shit.

The panic from witnessing the rally rippled through me again, and I backed farther inside the garage. Cohen shook his head and tried to stop me. “Where are you going?” he asked. “We have to go.”

“There’s a back exit!” I yelled, grabbing his hand. “Come on.”

He didn’t hesitate, locking his fingers with mine and matching my pace. My dirt bike was parked out back. All we had to do was get the hell out before the mayor saw me. Before he had proof that I was behind Pride.

Chapter 24

Warm night air blew through my sweat-damp hair as we darted along the back roads. Cohen wore my helmet, his arms tightly wrapped around my waist. My heart was racing along with the dirt bike’s warbling engine. There had been no time to think, only seconds to jump on the seat and get as far away as possible. I needed to pull over and get my shit together. But I could still hear the mayor’s voice, still hear the shouts of the rally.

Panicked adrenaline kept me driving. My body tensed with pressure as I gave it some gas, and I startled when Cohen let go of my waist. The comfort of his touch fell away, and it was like I was alone all over again. “There,” he called, pointing toward the Beggs Nature Preserve entrance. He held on again, and I leaned back into his warmth as I turned off the road.

I slowed to a stop in a patch of moonlight and took a deep breath, killing the engine. Silence thrummed between the cicadas as I strained to hear if anyone had followed us. At least itwas secluded enough here to buy time until I could figure out what to do next.

“I think we’re safe,” I said, voice unsteady as I released the kickstand.

“That was terrifying as fuck,” Cohen said with a huff. He released his grip to slide off the back, and I missed it again. Missed how safe I felt being hugged closely. By him. “Think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Me too,” I said absently, standing from the seat with wobbly legs. “We almost got caught.” He took the helmet off, shaking his head at me. “What?”

“I meant your driving,” he said with a snort, bending over to catch his breath. “God, I don’t know what was worse, having to save your ass or endure that ride from hell.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I mumbled, and he gave me a look that begged to differ. “Okay, I might’ve taken a few turns too fast—”

“All the turns,” he said, letting the helmet drop to the ground.

I nodded once, crossing my hands over my chest. Rapid-fire memories shot through me as I stared up at the moon. Sawyer saying it was dangerous, reckless, that I would get caught. She’d been right, and now…I’d handed Mayor Buchanan the election.

“Zeke, are you okay?” Cohen asked, a steady hand on my shoulder. At some point, I’d slumped down onto the gravel and started breathing heavy. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No,” I managed to say. “You were right.”

“About what?” he asked, squatting down beside me. “The mayor shutting down the speakeasy? Because, yes, I was right about that, and I’m so glad I got to you in time.”

I wanted to tell him this wasn’t funny. That me fucking up wasn’t a joke anymore. I couldn’t begin to process what had just happened. My frazzled brain was glitching as he peered at me, drenched in moonlight. “I meant when you said I was a bad gay.”

“Not this again,” he sighed. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, you were absolutely right. About me, about all this.” I could already hear Buchanan at his next rally, bragging about shutting down Pride once and for all. “I’ve only given the mayor more ammunition for his campaign, and votes for Carmen won’t amount to—”

“Look at me,” Cohen ordered. “You’re panicking. Take a deep breath. We’re okay, and everything you’ve done has only shined a light on what the people of Beggs really want. Your speakeasies are the reason why Carmen has a chance of winning, so don’t beat yourself up over what happened back there.”

“But…” I felt too many emotions coursing through me, my father’s dismissiveness about the election joining the fray. “What’s gonna happen? People here…some don’t want us in Beggs. I saw the rally”—my breaths were uneven, and it felt like my heart would explode—“and it was bad. I’m…I’m scared.”

“Take a deep breath,” he said again.

I nodded, trying to inhale.

“It’ll be okay,” he continued in a soft voice. “Everyone you brought together, those are the people Carmen is speaking up for. They won’t forget what you’ve done for them.”

I shook my head, everything he just said rolling over me. “What if I m-messed it up, though?” I asked, wiping at my nose. “M-maybe my father was right—”

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