Chapter 5

Backdraft

Adrenaline rushes through my system as I kick the piece of shit dirt bike to life. I've taken out everyone in our way and the only thing I can think about at this moment is getting Zoey out of this Godforsaken place. The girl has no idea who she is or why she was brought here. I'm just grateful there's fire in her eyes and she seems to know there's more for her than the life she's living here. That makes my job easier. These bastards haven't broken her spirit yet, but I can't be sure that the Bastard she's holding onto won't.

Her slender arms grip my waist in a death grip. Sweat beads along my body and drips down my back but she doesn't seem to care. She's trusting me with her life and I won't let her down.

I curse under my breath, my hold on the handlebars tightening. My thighs burn from riding standing up, but I race down the rough terrain. The wind whips past us as I push the throttle as far as it will go. I watch as the plume overhead gets closer and hear the loud voices up ahead. It's then I realize what I've done when I spot the burning truck and a body face down in the dirt on the side of the road. The destruction my cap bomb caused is more than I could have bargained for, which makes me wonder what was in those trucks and hits me this fight has just gotten a whole lot dirtier. I'm now up against two enemies. I commit what I can see of the Asphalt Gods MC patch to memory and make a hard right. The dirt bike tears through the grass to carve a new path. The groans of dirt bikes and all-terrain vehicles grow louder behind us. They're in hot pursuit, firing wildly into the air.

With the wind pushing against us, I lean into the bike pushing it to its limits. Zoey's arms tighten around my waist as the adrenaline surges through me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see them gaining on us, their engines grinding trying to keep up the pace. Without my motorcycle, we can't outrun them forever. This dirt bike can't perform with the power and speed I'm used to. I'm a skilled rider but we can't keep this up much longer.

Taking a risk, I steer us off the worn path and into a stretch of woods, crashing through the underbrush. We race through the trees, dodging branches and obstacles in our path. The sound of their engines die out and I breathe a small sigh of relief, although I know this is far from over. Zoey is not safe yet. As we race through the woods, I can feel Zoey's heartbeat racing against my back. The adrenaline coursing through my veins dulls the pain in my shoulder from where I had been shot earlier. But now is not the time to think about that. I focus on navigating through the thick trees and shrubs, trying to find a way out of this maze. I push the bike faster, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to anticipate which direction will lead us to safety.

An unexpected bump sends us flying. Zoey and I roll to the ground, our bodies skidding down the side of a steep hill. Branches tug at my clothing. Sharp rocks rip into my flesh. I dig my legs into the dirt trying to slow my speed so my ass doesn't go over the embankment. Stretching my arms out, I catch Zoey as she skids down the rough terrain, her small body flopping around like a rag doll. When she crashes into me, I wrap my arms around her pulling her out of the path of the dirt bike skidding down behind us. The bike shoots by us and soars over the edge. We finally skid to a stop, slamming into a large tree. I pull her closer, leaning against the rough bark. Her small frame is trembling against me and I can feel her heart racing. I tighten my grip on her, trying to provide some comfort and stability. My breathing is hard and fast, my heart slamming against my chest. I inhale slowly, urging Zoey to do the same.

"Breathe with me, Little Lamb. I've got you."

She's hyperventilating and I have to get her under control before we can move. My hands are dirty and calloused, but I'm gentle when gripping Zoey's hand and guiding it to my chest so she can feel the slow, steady breaths I take.

"That's it. In and out."

Zoey's breathing gradually slows down as she mimics my controlled inhales and exhales. After a few minutes, Zoey calms down enough for us to move. I grunt as we slowly get up, my body aching from the fall. Looking her over, she's covered in dirt and scratches. I brush the leaves from the remnants of her sundress, thankful she didn't fall off the edge. Sweeping my hands over her torn flesh, she winces as I brush a gash on her arm.

"You're okay," I reassure her while I continue to search for injuries. I'm not a gentle man and it takes all the strength I have to be tender with my touch.

She's visibly shaken from the fall, but I'm confident she didn't endure any serious injuries by the time I reach her feet. When I spot the soft pink hue on her toes, anger with myself roars inside my chest but I keep it locked inside.

How could I forget she wasn't wearing proper shoes?

I help her sit back down and kneel to untie my leather boots. The worn laces slide easily through my fingers as I unstrap them. I slip them off and carefully ease them onto her bare feet.

"I can't take your boots." She argues with me but quickly gives up when I don't acknowledge her protest.

Letting her take another moment to collect herself, I glance around trying to figure out which direction to go. To the right, I spot a worn path through the trees. It's overgrown with weeds, but it's made to lead somewhere. I contemplate taking it. It would be the easiest route for Zoey and possibly lead us to somewhere safe to rest while I figure out our next move, but I can't shake the feeling in my gut that the easy choice is the wrong choice.

Scanning our surroundings, I spot one of her flip-flops half-buried in the loose dirt a short distance away. Zoey's gaze is fixed on my every move as I stalk over and pick it up. I walk toward the edge and toss the sandal over, watching as it tumbles down the jagged rocks before landing on a ledge jetting out below. Reaching into the pocket of my vest, my fingers close around my supplies. I assemble another cap bomb but this time I spare the detonator. Instead, I ignite it. My fingers work quickly as I strike the match and nestle it between the clay pieces before launching it into the air. The explosion that echoes through the air will get their attention, but it should also draw them away from the path we'll make.

"We need to keep moving," I help Zoey up. "Be careful, the ground is uneven."

Taking Zoey's small hand in mine and a broken tree branch in the other, we veer off in the opposite direction away from the beaten trail. Trailing the jagged tree branch across the ground behind us, I brush away our footprints until we're safely out of sight.

Surrounded by the dense woods, I release the branch, letting it fall to the ground. Guided by instinct, I lead Zoey through the underbrush, deliberately moving in the opposite direction from where I've led them to search. The thick canopy above casts patchy shadows around us as we tread carefully through the trees, every step taking us deeper.