Page 57 of Moto
A few moments later, my phone vibrates.
Sam: Thanks for the tip, crime stopper.
I smirk then erase the message.
“Whatcha doing all quiet over there?” Reese rasps, looking over my shoulder.
“Nothing,” I reply flirtatiously as I slip my phone back into my pocket. Last thing I need is to be caught text texting 5–0, even if she is family.
What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
“You ready to go for another ride?” He skims his nose down my neck, and I can’t stop myself from looking at Dev. He’s watching mine and Reese’s every move like a hawk. It’s fucking stifling. Maybe leaving is in everyone’s best interest. I know I’m going to have to face Dev sometime soon and confront what happened between us and what’s happening with Reese right now. But I’m at a loss, honestly. I don’t know what to say, or even how to address it without hurting him. Because that’s the last thing I want. Let’s face it. I may be cozied up to Reese right now, but my feelings for Dev haven’t disappeared. They’re as strong as ever and eating me alive.
Before I have a chance to respond to Reese, the loudest exhaust boom I’ve ever heard tears through the throng of people. It’s as if a blanket of dread covers the entire gathering as a figure on a jet-black beast rolls through the crowd. Reese straightens, forcing me back onto his bike. Our small circle tightens, Dev rolling closer to Reese and me, Riley doing the same as Knight locks his arms around Tammy and drags her next to me. We create our own little fortress of bodies as the biker heads straight for us. I’ve never seen anything like him. A massive body covered completely in leather with gold toe shit kickers that match the thin pinstripes running along the fairings on his machine.
“Who is that?” I whisper to Tammy.
“Viper,” she replies, just as he reaches us. He stops directly in front of Reese, their front tires practically touching.
The man is intimidation personified. He sits in front of our little group for several long nerve-wracking heartbeats before he removes his black Predator helmet, complete with alien dreadlocks and all.
I tighten my grip on Reese as the man shows himself. His skin is as dark as his leathers, his eyes a stunning green, like two pieces of sea glass.
“Well, look who decided to slum.” Viper’s deep timbre rattles through me. “None other than the infamous Phantom himself.”
I can’t see Reese’s face, but I can feel his body language. He’s apprehensive, but not intimidated, contrary to me.
“Have some time off, so I’m hanging with my crew. It’s not unheard of.”
“For you it is,” he contests.
“Did you just roll over here to bust my balls because you’re still sore you never escaped this miserable shithole?”
“I’m not sore,” Viper leers. “I own this fucking town. I’m king. Staying was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
As confident as his voice sounds, there’s an underlying resentment. We can all hear it, especially Reese. I suddenly have a bad feeling.
“You’re king, huh?” Reese goads him. Oh shit. “I distinctly remember burning rubber down your ass every time we raced. Which I believe makesmeking. Estranged or not.”
The look in Viper’s eyes sharpen to a point. Holy fuck.
“This isn’t ten years ago. You have no idea who I am now.”
“Oh, I think I do. Washed-up racer with a chip on his shoulder.”
“Reese,” I whisper a warning into his ear, squeezing him hard. He rubs my hand, placating me, which only amps my anxiety.
“You think you can just roll up in here and stake claim? This ain’t no fancy race track.”
“You’re the one who rolled up. I was just hanging. But now that you mention it, I do think I can just lay claim. I already have. And all I did was sit on my frame.”
“You think you’re street? Why don’t you put your pussy where your mouth is?”
Say what?I straighten my spine.
“You want to race?” Reese rises to the challenge.
“I do, and when I win, I want your piece of shit and your piece of ass. Then I want you to get the fuck out of my town and never come back.”
