Page 63 of Where Angels Fall

Malcolm Hargrove.

The senator.

Petrified screams sound far away as I watch, frozen, eyes wide on the man swaying from the roof. What the hell?

Finally, I hear it. The familiar heavy rumble of a motor coming around the corner, and when I glance back, I know it's him. His Harley shines under the streetlamp, his dark hair flailing in the wind.

Ash in a torn suit, riding his motorbike, does something catastrophic to my insides, and despite the fact that a man I know has obviously just been murdered, I can’t take my eyes off him.

Immediately, he pulls up, giving me a wicked smile, baring his teeth at me as his wild eyes find mine. But my legs are frozen, looking back at the man hanging from the roof, dead by the looks of it. Ash doesn’t give him a second of his time, not even bothering to look at what’s causing the obvious mayhem, as red and blue lights flash in the distance.

“Are you coming, Angel?” Ash rumbles from behind me, acting oblivious to the man who's taking everyone's attention.

“B... but Ash,” I stutter, my hand pointing towards the building.

Ash just smiles wider, an unhinged look falling over him. Not bothering to wait another second, he grips my hips and lifts me onto the back of the bike, not even caring about a helmet for either of us this time before tearing away from the event.

“Ash...I...,” all the words that I want to say are jumbled in my throat, and I can't get them out.

The further we get from the event, the more I feel the tension in my body release. The cool wind batters me as Ash weaves through cars; my dress hiked around my thighs and my arms circling around Ash’s body in a tight grip. Lights blur together, and the heavy rumble of the motor beneath me settles me in a way I haven’t felt all night. A manic giggle bursts free from my lips before I can stop it

Malcolm’s dead. Murdered.

At the very event thrown in his honour, his body was thrown off, dismembered. And he’ll never touch me again.

The thought has me raising my eyes to the high rearview mirrors on the bike, my mouth parting as a heavy realisation hits me. I don’t know how I know, but nothing has ever felt truer than that. And when his eyes meet mine in the reflection, I know.

Ash winks at me, his hand reaching behind to grip my thigh. My eyes narrow on the tiniest speck of blood that still lingers on his cheek, and my heart stutters.

I don't say anything. I can't. What words could I even offer right now?

I wait for the familiar feeling of fear, the realization that my arms are currently around a killer, but it doesn't hit this time. Remorse doesn't even find its way into my heart as I think about the senator and the gruesome death that has found him.

Instead, my heart races with gratitude as my chest presses against the muscular back of a devil. My Devil. My smile must mean that I'm just as evil because I can't wipe it off my face.

“Thank you,” I whisper to his back, unsure if he'll even hear it. “Thank you.”

Wind whips my hair into wild tangles, my pulse racing fast as the bike cuts another corner, racing off into the night. Night air has softened into a warm caress, the kind that flows over us as I hold him, the city lights streak past in a blur of gold and neon.

Every curve of the road, every twist of Ash’s bike under me sends a thrill shivering through my veins. Mixed with the realisation that he just killed someone for me... it’s intoxicating.

My hands grip his suit jacket, wanting to feel his warmth through the material. I couldn’t get rid of my smile even if I wanted to. I’ve never felt freer. Never felt more grateful or alive than I have tonight. Warmth leaches from his hand around my thigh, settling deep in my core as I meld my body closer to him, needing to feel all of him pressed against me.

I lean into his warm, muscular body, feeling safer and more secure than I have my whole life; even though I’m flying through the city with no helmet or gear, arms circled around a killer. And that realisation has my heart twisting inside my chest.

Tonight, during a night I’ve been dreading, he managed to make me feel things that I never thought would be possible.

Yet, he dragged them out of me, chasing me like a predator and taking me like a wild animal. I forgot where I was. Forgot who I was meant to be. And just was.

He has a knack for doing that, making my mask fall off and the authentic feelings in me bubble up. It might be his personality of being unapologetically himself in every aspect of his life. He wears his heart on his sleeve; despite being one of, if not the most, dangerous men in the country.

He is a walking contradiction. And I think I’m falling.

Ash takes a sharp turn, and the roar of motors sounds behind me. It’s powerful, vibrating through me as the sound overtakes all of my thoughts. The air whooshes out of my lungs when I turn my head and look behind us. Hundreds of bikes stream behind us, the sound like a wild beast in the night.

It makes my very bones tremble with the sheer size and power .

“Who are they?” I gasp over the wind, hugging into the perfect body in front of me.