Broken Wings and Burning Roads

CHAPTER 8

My body went cold. That deep, instinctive chill that starts in your bones and tells you you’re not safe anymore.

I sat up too fast. The room spun.

That sound. That engine.

I crawled to the window on my knees, careful not to let the curtain shift too much. Peered out through the corner of the blinds.

A car sat under the flickering motel sign.

Black. Familiar silhouette.

My breath caught.

No. Not again.

The engine idled, then rumbled low, almost like it was thinking. Waiting.

Then it drove off.

Slowly. Deliberately.

Just enough to let me know it had been there.

Watching.

I sat back against the wall, hand pressed over my mouth.

This wasn’t just a coincidence.

And maybe I was tired of running.

But that didn’t mean the past was done chasing me.

The engine of my bike cut out in front of the diner just past 9 a.m. Not too early. Not too late. Just enough time for her to have shaken off yesterday and shown up again, maybe with a chip on her shoulder and that fire still burning in her eyes.

But when I walked through the door, she wasn’t there.

No flash of green eyes. No scent of warm coffee and something floral beneath.

Instead, I got Bob.

Fat. Sweaty. Limping.

He gave me a sour look from behind the counter. “We’re not hiring, if that’s why you’re back.”

“Where’s Sadie?” I asked, cutting straight to it.

He scoffed. “That crazy b***h? Took off yesterday like her ass was on fire. Broke dishes, then assaulted me in my own office.”

I stared.

“She what?”

“Yeah. I told her she could make it up to me for the cups, you know—woman to man—and she kicked me in the balls like a psycho. Guess she thought she was too good for the job.”

My blood went cold. Then hot.

It rushed in my ears like thunder. My fist curled before my brain caught up.

“She’s gone. Good riddance,” Bob sneered. “Tease like that—”

Crack.

My fist met his face like it had a score to settle.

The diner went silent. A coffee cup shattered somewhere behind me. Bob hit the ground, nose leaking, stunned and gurgling.

I stood over him, eyes dark.

“Say one more word about her,” I growled, “and I’ll make sure you choke on your next meal. You hear me?”

He whimpered something. Probably “yes.” Or maybe “help.” Didn’t care.

I walked out, jaw tight, heart hammering.

She was gone.

And if she had any sense, she wouldn’t have gone far. Not yet.

I swung a leg over my bike and gunned the throttle. There was only one place in this town where a woman could disappear without a trace—and where nobody asked questions.

The Crestline Motel. Two blocks down. Sleazy. Cheap. Perfect.

I rode fast.

Too fast.

Because something in my gut said this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

Cheap Motel – Room 108 – Sadie’s POV

The motel room felt colder than it had any right to be. I had the heat on, but the air still bit at my skin like it had teeth.

The ceiling fan creaked rhythmically above me, a ticking reminder that I had nowhere to go and nothing but time to count.

I curled deeper into the thin blanket, eyes flicking to the window every few minutes. Just habit. Old fear. Too many nights spent wondering if headlights would slow outside and if they'd find me this time.

I told myself the car I saw yesterday wasn’t his. Couldn’t be. But my gut wouldn’t let it go.

Then I heard it.

That sound.

Low. Powerful. A motorcycle engine. Not some cheap knockoff but a throaty, growling Harley that made your ribs hum.

My breath hitched.

I crawled to the window, peeled the curtain back an inch.

Him.

Lincoln. Tower of sin and leather, climbing off his bike like a storm had sent him. His eyes scanned the parking lot like he already knew where I was.

Shit.

Shit. s**t. s**t. He’s probably here because of what I did to Bob. f**k these small towns man. I should’ve just left, now I’m probably gonna die.

I moved away from the window, heart thudding hard.

Then something else caught my attention—movement. Not from Lincoln.