DIESEL POV
As I drive down the dark stretch of the industrial road, I notice Daisy is sitting six inches away from me.
It’s a miracle she hasn't fallen off the back yet. This girl is practically hovering off the seat, her body stiff as a board. Is she scared of me now? Funny. She wasn’t too scared to grab my arm while I was pointing a .45 at that scumbag's head, but now that it’s just us and the road, she’s acting like I’m made of lava.
I can feel her hesitation vibrating through the frame of the bike. Every time I take a corner, she wobbles. It’s annoying, and frankly, her not holding me on this bike is a safety hazard I don’t have the patience for. I’m not in the mood to scrape her off the pavement because she’s too proud or too terrified to touch a "monster" like me.
"Don't be stupi
