Page 28 of Kash
“We’re close to the state line,” Kash says, his voice low, focused. “If we can lose them before we cross, we’re clear.”
I nod, my arms tightening around him.
“You got this, Daddy,” I say, and I feel his body shift, a faint chuckle rumbling through him despite the tension.
“Don’t distract me, boy,” Kash rasps in reply, but there’s a warmth in his voice, a spark that tells me he’s fighting for more than just his freedom. “This ain’t over just yet…”
Chapter 9
Kash
The Harley’s engine roars as we tear through the dunes, the sirens fading but still dogging us, a relentless wail in the night.
Spike’s arms are locked around my waist, his body pressed tight against mine, his breath hot against my neck. I can feel his heart pounding, matching the rhythm of mine, and it’s not just the chase fueling me now.
It’s him.
Spike.
This boy, this reckless, defiant skater who’s wormed his way into my life, into my heart. I’m not just riding for my freedom anymore—I’m riding for him, for us, and I’ll be damned if I let these cops take that away.
I follow the coordinates Jace sent, veering off the highway onto a dirt trail that cuts through dense woodland just over the state line.
The cruiser’s lights are gone now, lost in the tight twists of the dune trail Spike pointed out. He’s a damn genius, knowing these paths like the back of his hand, and it’s bought us enough time to make it here.
The trees close in, their shadows swallowing us as the trail opens into a clearing, the moonlight barely breaking through the canopy. I kill the engine, the silence deafening except for the distant crash of the ocean.
Spike slides off, his board under his arm, his green eyes scanning the dark.
“This the place?” Spike asks, his voice low, a mix of adrenaline and nerves.
“Yeah,” I say, swinging my leg over the bike.
I’m on edge, ready for anything, when I hear the crunch of boots on leaves.
Figures emerge from the trees, and my hand tightens on the knife until I recognize them—Clay, Jace, and Tank, my Wolf Rider brothers.
Clay’s broad frame is unmistakable, his stubble catching the moonlight. Jace, lean and sharp, nods at me, his eyes flicking to Spike. Tank, built like a goddamn mountain, cracks his knuckles, a grin splitting his face.
But there’s someone else with them, a man in a leather jacket, badge glinting on his belt.
A cop.
What the hell?
My stomach twists, every instinct screaming to bolt.
“Kash,” Clay says, his voice steady. “You’re a hard man to find.”
“Who the fuck is this?” I growl, nodding at the cop, my hand still on the knife. Spike steps closer to me, his body tense, ready to back me up.
The cop steps forward, hands raised, his face calm but serious.
“Detective Mace,” he says, his voice low, no bullshit. “I know you’re being set up, Kash. The Vipers and a dirty cop named Skinner are behind it. I’ve got a plan to takehimdown, but it’s gonna take you walking into a trap. That’s the deal, my guy.”
Spike’s head snaps up, his eyes blazing. “No fucking way,” he says, stepping between me and Mace, his board clutched like a weapon. “That’s too risky. Kash, you can’t. I’m not losing you.”
I grab his shoulder, pulling him back, my voice firm.
