Alex:
The road blurred beneath my tires, a fever dream of heat and dirt. My fingers ached from gripping the handlebars too tight, like I could hold back the flood building in my chest if I just kept control of the bike. But I couldn’t outpace it. Couldn’t outpace him.
He followed me.
I knew he would.
I wanted him to.
The second I rolled out this morning, hair damp from the shower, smoke still stinging my throat, I knew I’d be the decoy. Take the heat. Be the flame. The other girls were making the real moves, working new contacts from the rally, building trust and power the way only women like us knew how. Me? I was the bait.
And he bit.
God, he bit hard.
Luke f*****g Jennings.
The cop with honey eyes and iron hands. Who looked at me like I was a miracle and a mistake. Who kissed l
