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Trinity(41)

By:M. Never


“Easy.” Reese draws me next to him, keeping Dev at bay. “Let’s not scare her off already.” Let’s? He kisses my neck openly while Dev drills a hole through my forehead with his searing gaze. I nearly buckle under the mishmash of Dev’s scrutiny and Reese’s warm lips. I down some more moonshine, begging for a palliative escape before Reese slips the jar out of my hand.

“You’re going to be walking sideways soon, and we can’t have that,” he murmurs as he hands the Mason jar off to Knight.

We? Why does he keep using plural pronouns? And why is it irking me so?

Reese wraps his arm around my waist, locking me against him and his bike. My back to his side, while Dev’s suppressive blue laser beam ensnares me. I swallow thickly.

Before I internally combust, a black and yellow motorcycle comes veering out of nowhere. It circles around our small group several times, the pipes roaring annoyingly. We all grimace. They sound like a buzz saw. The rider parks next to Knight then removes his helmet. If I didn’t know it, I would have bet money it was Riley. He loves attention, and I have a feeling the only time he gets it is when he’s on a bike.

“What the fuck are you riding? A bumble bee?” Knight asks him, aghast.

The name is appropriate considering the skins are horrific.

Riley cackles, his laugh echoing up through the night sky.

“It’s my newly-acquired P.O.S. Won it ten minutes ago. Can’t believe the jackass actually raced me! Look at this thing.”

He dismounts the shabby machine, then kicks it. “I’m going to strip it for parts.”

“That’s about all it’s good for.” Knight curls his lip. “Scrap.”

“Guy was desperate to race. I couldn’t say no. He looked hard up, too. Needed a score, ya know.” He rubs his nose and inhales exaggeratedly. “Probably shouldn’t have even been driving.”

“And you raced him anyway?” I ask.

“’Course I did. Easy mark. I’m not an idiot.”

“Hell, yeah!” Knight high fives him. “That’s how we do.”

“I know, right? I mean, look at this shit.” Riley fishes into his jacket pocket and pulls out a handful of plastic.

“What the fuck is that?” Reese asks, as we all lean in curiously to look at what’s in his hand. Upon better inspection, I realize what he’s holding.

“Holy shit.” I grab his wrist and yank. “Are those all yours?”

What Riley is holding is half a dozen empty dime bags with a tire stamped on each one.

“Of course not. I don’t mess with this shit, but apparently, that guy does. This was his jacket. He bet the whole enchilada, helmet and all.”

“Yo, man, you need to ditch that shit. Empty or not.” Knight sounds alarmed in his drunken state.

“I plan to.”

“Smart idea.” Tammy frowns. “I heard that’s the stuff killin’ people off.”

“You know about this?” I ask Tammy, a little too interested.

“Just from what I hear around town. Supposedly, there’s a huge stash at some abandoned church somewhere.” She shrugs. “But it’s just hearsay.”

Abandoned church? In this area, that’s not uncommon.

There’s a bunch of dilapidated shacks littered all over the place. But it is something. I pull out my phone from my pocket as casually as I can, not wanting to draw attention to what I’m doing. As Riley, Reese, Dev, and Knight converse about the newly-acquired bumble bee bike, and what to do with it, I nonchalantly snap a picture of the license plate. It’s not a great image, but you can make out the numbers and letters from the off angle.

I text my aunt:

Not sure if this is anything, but might want to look into it and any abandoned churches in the area. #Overdose

I attach the pic and hit send.

She’ll know what I’m getting at. The only thing I’m not looking forward to is explaining where the tip came from.

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 makes me king. 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.”

“Oomph. You’re jaded. Still not over our last race, huh? Are you a masochist?” Reese riles him. “Itching for me to leave skid marks down your back again? Am I the one who got away? The only one who can satisfy your sadistic craving? Let’s go then. I’ll get you off and put my pussy up just to let you save pathetic face.”

Excuse me? I look immediately at Dev, who is seething.

“You’re on,” Viper revs his V-Twin.

“And you’re on your own.” I hop off Reese’s bike, enraged.

All eyes center on me.

“Kayla?” Reese’s tone elevates, dismayed.

“Oh, are we using my real name now?” I rip my helmet off his gas tank. “What happened to pussy?”

“What the fuck?” Reese bites, as I climb on the back of Dev’s bike.

“Get me the fuck out of here.” I’m so pissed, I’m shaking. What the fuck does Reese think? Just because I slept with him, he can pass me around to all his scummy friends? Fuck you.

“Kayla.” Reese stands as Dev turns on his bike.

“Reese,” I echo disdainfully, yanking on my helmet. I flip Reese the finger as Dev drives off. I. Am. Livid. I didn’t put myself through college and nursing school, then fight for a good job, to be fucking objectified as a piece of community ass. This is exactly why I say bikers are nothing but trouble.