Chapter Thirty-Six

I’m wearing a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a leather jacket despite it being nearly eighty degrees out today. The sun is setting, though, and if Zayden and I are going out, it’s going to be on his bike, and that shit gets cold even on the warmest of days.

He was gone for most of the night, taking care of what remained of Jim. Dominic cleaned the floors while Zayden went to the farm, and then Dominic and I fell asleep on the couch together. It was a perfect way to end an emotionally taxing day. Tell me the last time you woke up in bed with one brother, went and slaughtered your childhood abuser with the other, fucked said brother in the man’s blood, only to have a threesome with both brothers? Yeah, it was a first for me too.

Dom has been gone all day today, though. He’s been at the office looking up all of Jim’s friends, and according to Zayden, Dom is so good he will have names and addresses for them within the night. The only thing they will have to be careful about is when they take them out, seeing as Jim’s disappearance has been blasted all over Chicago news outlets. They don’t want to let the police make any connections when all of the men go missing too, which seems smart. It’s not like they haven’t done this a hundred times before, literally.

Why was it almost comforting to know that Zayden isn’t just a lunatic with a short temper? To know that he kills people for money, that Dominic does too in a way. I assume he doesn’t actually get his hands dirty, at least anymore, if Zayden’s comment was anything to go off of. Knowing that they have an order to their chaos makes it somehow justifiable in my mind, which sounds crazy, I know.

I asked Dominic last night if they ever took jobs on women and children, and he said only women who truly deserve it and never children. So, that’s something, I guess? At least they aren’t out here slaughtering innocent families. More than likely if someone’s name ended up on one of these lists, it’s for a good reason.

Zayden is waiting for me in the kitchen, his fingers flying across the screen of his phone before his eyes come up to mine. They rake me over from head to toe, and he smirks before pocketing his phone and closing the distance between us.

“You look way too beautiful to be leaving this house, someone is gonna end up dead, angel.”

“Here’s hoping it’s not you. You’re my ride.”

Zayden barks out a laugh before pressing his lips to mine, pulling away with a shake of his head as he wraps an arm around my shoulders.

When we get on Zayden’s bike and leave the parking garage, we don’t get on the freeway like I expect, but instead, we head toward the industrial district of the city. He looks back at me and grins, though he can’t see me smiling through my helmet.

A few turns and another mile later, and we are in what can only be described nicely as a sketchy part of town. Motorcycles are lined up for nearly an entire block on either side of the road. There is a car blocking the roadway that we pull up to. A guy is sitting in the driver’s seat, and his eyes light up when he sees Zayden’s bike.

“What’s up, Ryan?” the guy shouts out to Zayden.

Zayden nods at him easily as he pulls a wad of money out of his pocket. He tosses it to him, and the guy catches it, inspecting the cash before nodding.

“Race starts in two minutes.”

Zayden nods once more, and we swerve around the car. Someone is bumping music so loudly that it’s filling the music all the way down the street. There has to be at least one hundred people out here, whether they are spectators or racers. It’s like those racing movies but with motorcycles.

We don’t park to the side like a lot of the other bikes do. Instead, we pull up to a start line of sorts before Zayden puts the bike into neutral and turns to face me.

“Surprise.” He smirks.

I flip the visor up on my helmet and shake my head with a smile.

“This is your idea of a first date? Street racing?”

“You’ll love it. I always hear you giggling on the back when I get into it.”

I roll my eyes but don’t lose my smile.

“What’s up with him calling you Ryan?”

“Everyone does. No one uses real names around here. It’s an unnecessary risk.”

“In case the cops come?” I ask.

He nods.

“Are the cops going to come?”

“Maybe, but they won’t catch us.”

“A little cocky, don’t you think?” I laugh.

“Yes.” He winks before pushing my visor back down and kicking the bike into gear.

A girl comes to the start line in booty shorts and a bra before she holds up what looks to be a pair of panties. She smiles at the lineup of bikes on either side of us before blowing a kiss to Zayden. Irrational jealousy rises inside me, but I don’t have any time to do anything before she drops the panties, and we peel out.

A few of the bikes shoot in front while we remain in the middle of the pack. I wiggle in the seat, hoping somehow it’ll make us go faster. Zayden reaches back and squeezes my thigh. It’s as if he’s telling me to calm down before we come up on a corner, leaning into it easily while one of the guys in the front wipes out, taking out a guy behind him as he does.

I cringe at the sight. Those are going to be some nasty injuries.

Zayden keeps it very casual as he bobs and weaves through the streets and other racers. I’m not sure how long we have, but when we come around one more corner, I see the finish line.

The bike kicks into another gear, and Zayden increases our speed. My adrenaline begins to spike as we get closer and closer, my blood practically buzzing in my veins.

The wind is biting straight through my leather jacket and sending my hair whipping from side to side. Zayden’s hand is still on my thigh, and he taps it once more, signaling for me to hold on before he pops into a wheelie just as we cross over the finish line and edge out the guy beside us.

We drop back down smoothly, and a flurry of people rush over to us, cheering and celebrating Zayden’s win as the guy from the car earlier runs up to us. He hands Zayden a small brown paper bag before clapping his back in celebration.

The girl that started the race comes up to us, batting her eyelashes at Zayden as she does.

“Congratulations, Ryan. I knew you’d win. Want to come back to my place and celebrate?”

He sneers at her like he couldn’t think of anything more repulsive before he turns around, taking off my helmet and crushing his lips to mine. I slip my arms around his shoulders, smiling into the kiss as he very publicly claims me. I love every fucking second of it, especially when I hear the bitch huff and stomp off like a toddler.

Zayden pulls away, looking at me like I didn’t just hang the moon, but I am the moon, before he places my helmet back on, turns around, and drives back down the road. We come closer to downtown before Zayden pulls up to a taco truck. He orders more tacos than we could possibly eat before we sit down at the picnic table to the side.

“That was something else.” I smile before I take my first bite.

“I told ya you’d like it,” he says as he picks up his taco.

I nod. “Do you go often?”

He shakes his head. “Haven’t been in a while.”

“How come?”

“Been busy. I was gone for a bit.”

“That’s what Dom said. That you saw me first, claimed me in your creepy stalker way, and then, what? You left? For a job?” I ask.

“I was in prison,” he states casually before taking another bite.

My eyes widen.

“Prison? For what? For…one of your jobs?” I ask, lowering my voice.

“Fuck no,” he scoffs. “I never leave a job messy, and I never get caught.”

I furrow my brows at that.

“Then what got you locked up?”

He pauses for a minute, mulling over his words before he speaks.

“You.”

“Me?” I ask, pointing to my chest. “What the hell did I do?”

He shakes his head and leans across the table as he speaks quietly.

“I was making sure you got home safe one night after work?—”

“Stalking me,” I correct.

Zayden smirks and nods. “And I noticed a man following you. He was close to you, too close. I knew he was going to rob you, hurt you, or worse. You always listened to your damn headphones too loud, so you didn’t know he was coming up on you. It helped, though, because you didn’t know when I took him down behind you. Before I could finish him off, some cops rolled up. I tried to give them this bullshit self-defense charge, but unfortunately, they didn’t buy it.” He laughs lightly like he’s telling the world’s funniest joke.

“Anyway, I ended up getting sentenced to prison for five years. I didn’t take that well. I couldn’t waste five years in that hellhole rotting away when you were out here, alone, unprotected, and not in my arms,” he says, forcing my heart to skip a beat.

God. He’s not joking when he says that he’s loved me from the moment he saw me.

“Well, I thought you were alone and unprotected, apparently Dominic had that part covered,” Zayden scoffs, a hint of irritation still in his tone.

“So, how’d you get out? Good behavior?” I tease with a small smirk.

He doesn’t say anything before eating another taco. After a minute or so, he finally speaks.

“Called in a favor with a friend.”

My eyebrows raise. “That’s some good friend.”

He doesn’t agree or disagree, just stares at me before he goes back to his food. I want to pry more because Dominic never opens up like this, but it feels like the topic is very firmly closed. so I’ll drop it…for now.