Page 3 of The Biker's Captive
When I look up, the man is staggering toward me. He’s holding his side, his lips curled up in a grimace. If he wasn’t so injured, he’d be over here by now.
But his injuries give me the chance I need to escape.
Come on, come on.
I pull myself up onto my elbows and then up to my knees.
My vision goes blurry with pain, but I need to move. I need to move now.
If I reach the thicket, maybe I can hide out and get away from these men.
Excruciating pain shoots through my leg, but somehow I manage to drag myself to the side of the road.
I risk a glance over my shoulder, and the man is now halfway across the road. He's stumbling as much as I am, which is the only reason why I’m still alive.
The white line blurs in front of me, and I’m not sure if it’s the head injury or the pain making me lightheaded.
If I lose consciousness now, I’ll never wake up.
The rev of a bike engine close by startles me, making me scream in terror. I spin around, expecting to find a gun pointed at me.
But it's not the man with the gun. It's the other one. The giant who tried to shush me. He straddles his bike with one leg cocked and indicates the seat behind him.
“Get on.”
I stare at the man on the bike, scanning his face for something soft, something gentle, but he's deadpan and he gives nothing away, just those intense eyes staring at me.
“Get on now.”
It’s the urgency in his voice that makes me move. I take a step toward him and stumble forward. In an instant he slides off his bike and catches me under my shoulders.
I’m half dragged, half stumble toward his bike. I cry out as my sore leg bumps against him. Then he’s lifting me up, pulling my limp body onto his bike.
My face scratches against his stubble, and I smell blood and the ocean. Then he spins me around, nestling my body in front of him.
The bike moves beneath me, and I grab hold of the handlebars to stop from sliding off. A gunshot rings out behind us and the man swerves from side to side, each swerve sending new pain through my body.
He steers the bike through the wreckage, away from the gunshots, and soon we leave the carnage behind.
I don't know why he did it. I don't know why he saved me. But as the bike vibrates gently beneath me, I slump against the man and lose consciousness.
2
PANS
Abullet hits the tarmac by my feet, and I gun the accelerator. My bike swerves around the carnage as another shot’s fired.
I lean forward, shielding the woman's body as we speed down the highway. She moans softly and her body slumps, unconscious. I tighten my thighs around hers and tense my arms, holding her in place.
The shouts behind us become more distant as we leave the scene behind, but I don’t let myself relax yet.
I don't know what state the other bikes are in, but if anyone from The Reapers follows us, I know exactly what they'll do. Whoever this woman is, she witnessed something she shouldn't have. The quicker I can get her to safety, the better.
I hazard a glance behind us, but there are no telltale headlights following. I take the next off ramp just in case, knowing I can lose them in the winding clifftop roads that surround this area.
I know every inch of these roads and every tilt my bike needs to hit, but I take the corners slower than usual with my precious cargo leaning on me the whole time.
When I saw this beauty sprawled in the road, her foot twisted and a blood spot on her cheek, I knew instantly I’d do whatever it takes to protect her.
