Page 16 of Sinful Lies
I take one last look at Dia. Brie Carracci, Cal’s wife, has her arm wrapped around Dia’s shoulders, talking to her. Tears have smudged Dia’s mascara under her eyes, but there’s a longing in them that tells me her heart still belongs to me. If we can make it through this, there’s still a chance for us.
“I can’t leave her.” I confess to Chainz.
“You have to for the club and for those women. We need to get you outta here before the cops show up.”
I nod my head and pick up the pace, slamming the weight of my body through the swinging door with Chainz and the rest of the club on my heels. Straddling my bike, I let out a slow breath. Leaving Dia with Ben is killing me. Not only have I left her behind again, I’ve upended her life asking her to spy on her husband all in the club's name, but for fuck’s sake, taking my father down a notch feels good.
I twist the throttle, firing my bike up and my brothers do the same. The revving of our engine's slices through the quiet streets as we pull out onto the road. Our pack flies through the intersection, pushing past the sudden blast of sirens from the approaching police cruisers. The cruisers make a sharp U-turn, their tires squealing as they skid on the street behind us.
Red and blue lights flash in our mirrors as the white and black chargers barrel toward us. I drop back from my position to the right of Chainz, leading the pack and my brother’s shift forward and to the sides, barricading my bike from the police on our tail. I twist my sweaty palms around the throttle and increase speed. My heart is beating fast with the rush of adrenaline. I lean into the turn, following Chainz to the right, whipping past the traffic that’s breaking hard along the sides of the road. The wind whips my face as we gain speed. Our bikes roaring down the street, blowing through the intersection separating us from the freeway.
Out of nowhere, a black sedan with tinted windows skids around the corner, the tires squealing in protest. It swerves, swinging wide around us. The driver breaks hard at the rear of the pack, blocking the road between our bikes and the three approaching cruisers. I inhale a sharp breath, choking on the smell of burned rubber.Thank you, Carracci for the interception.
I let out a shaky breath and draw my focus back to the road in front of me, pulling into my proper position as we turn onto the highway. My ticket to freedom.
