Page 7 of Knot My MC
Trouble is, I’m not joking.
CHAPTERTHREE
KIKI
Someone lit a fire in one of the old oil drums, and one of the newly patched is standing on a bench, pissing into the flames. The people around him raise their beers and cheer him on. I crouch near Axel’s gleaming Harley, waiting for them to move along. I left the guys a little over ten minutes ago, and I would have taken the bike right away if not for the impromptu bonfire.
My legs are starting to burn by the time someone shouts about another round of shots and most everyone heads inside. Those left outside are too busy trying to get into their conquest’s pants to pay me any mind. I wait a few more seconds just in case and then put the motorcycle in neutral and push the bike toward the gate I left open.
I’m sweating by the time I make it out, but I didn’t want to risk anyone hearing the bike start up and then taking notice that the rider didn’t match the owner of the Harley. I climb onto the bike and pull the clutch and hit the starter button, shifting into gear and rolling to a stop at the head of the alley.
At first, I missed the flashing lights because I was looking over my shoulder, but as I turn and glance down the alley, expecting the guys to be heading my direction, I realize they’re not waiting for me. My eyes land on the cop car, and I idle for a moment with one foot on the ground. Where are the guys?
“Get off the bike,” the cop says, fingers twitching at his side.
Fuck this. If I get caught with Axel’s bike, I’ll be in deep shit. The guy is too dumb to realize what I’m doing as he starts to walk toward me.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Climb off the bike and let’s talk.”
Yeah, I don’t think so. His shout can barely be heard over the Harley’s engine as I tear down the road. A few moments later his siren cuts through the air and my heart rate spikes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Where the hell are the guys?
Did they leave?
That isn’t like them. Then again, this is one of the first times I’ve ever seen them mad at me. The squad car pulls up alongside me, and I glance through the passenger window.Pull over,the cop mouths. Gritting my teeth, I shake my head and take a sharp turn down a side road, ditching the cop for the moment.
The wind tosses my blonde strands into the air, and my hair stings as it smacks my face and whips my eyes. I should have grabbed a helmet. Now not only am I driving at a reckless speed without protection, the fucking uniform knows what I look like. Growling, I ride faster, breaking all manner of speed limits as I try to avoid arrest.
Camila, the head of the Omega Council, will lose her shit if I get arrested, and she won’t hesitate to ruin my life.
An intersection approaches and the squad car appears out of nowhere, screeching to a halt in the middle of the road. Fuck, he must’ve taken a short cut. I’m going too fast, but I still brake, turning slightly to the side to try and avoid a direct hit.
Time slows down, and my entire body surges with adrenaline as the bike continues to eat up the distance between me and the stopped squad car. The cop points a gun at me over the top of his vehicle, screaming at me to stop.
“I’m fucking trying,” I shout back, pulling on the brake even harder. The handle pulses, the ABS doing its damndest to keep the wheels from locking up. By some miracle, the bike slows enough that when I hit the cop car, I only jolt forward in my seat instead of flying off.
“Hands in the air.” The guy is glaring at me, and I send my own scowl back, planting my feet and shoving my hands into the air. “Now get off,” he says, the gun still trained on me.
The rumble of my engine fills the space between us, the red and blue lights of his car flashing against the buildings lining the street.
“I have to turn it off.” I gesture with my chin at the Harley.
“Do it. Slowly.”
Sighing, I kill the engine and climb off. Three bikes rumble nearby, and I whip my head to the left, watching Knox, Jag, and Crow roll by. Knox turns, facing forward and ready to ride. Crow’s grip on his handlebars is tight and he hunches over, preparing to shoot off. Jag is inching forward a little faster than the other two. Their helmets are on so I can’t read their expressions, but my entire body sings with relief. I don’t know how they found me. I don’t care. They’re here.
I knew they’d come to save me.
Only… they don’t stop. They keep driving. Crow bowls over his bike even further and the motorcycle jerks forward a little. They’re going to leave. I frown. What the fuck? They’re leaving?
Maybe they realize they can’t save me. Maybe they know rescuing me is a lost cause. Maybe… maybe they called the cops?
No. They wouldn’t. They’re not like that. We’re friends. We’ve been through thick and thin. But why are they here? The only way they would have been able to find me is if they knew I was trying to ditch a cop and they followed us. The only way they’d know I was trying to ditch a cop is if they called them on me.
Or not. Maybe they were waiting for me and saw the patrol car and decided to hide. That’s more like them.
They’re Hell Hounds.A whisper of doubt fills my head.They didn’t like Axel’s scent all over you.
