CHAPTER 4 — He Never Left
1233 Words
The copper taste of blood flooded my mouth. I’d bitten my cheek again.
The bike sat there. Matte black. Kade didn't move. He sat with a stillness that made my skin prickle, hands heavy on the handlebars. The engine hummed low. I felt the vibration in my teeth.
I stood there, gripping my phone until my knuckles turned white. My jaw ached. I wanted to scream, but my throat was too dry.
I walked up to him. My brain told me to stop, but my feet didn't listen.
"You did this," I spat. The words were too loud. People turned. I didn't care. "The accounts. The door. It’s all dead, Kade. The scanner wouldn't even take my thumb."
He didn’t blink. Behind that dark visor, I couldn't even see his eyes. I just saw my own reflection—small, messy, and desperate.
"Answer me!" I stepped into his space. The heat from the exhaust pipe burned against my calf. "Is this a joke? You’re just going to sit there?"
Silence. I wanted to rip that helmet off. I wanted to hit him. He’d turned me into a ghost in less than sixty minutes.
"You can't just erase me and then park here like you—" The word own stuck in my throat. I swallowed it.
My phone buzzed. A long, aggressive vibration. I ignored it. I was staring at the visor, trying to find a flicker of the man who used to sleep next to me. He looked at me like I was a stranger.
"I'm not yours anymore," I whispered. My voice cracked. I hated it. "You signed the papers. You're free. Go away."
Kade’s head tilted. Not toward me. Toward the street behind me. My hands started to shake.
"Say something!"
Kade finally moved. He turned his head just enough for me to see the cold edge of his eyes through the glass. He looked busy. Calculating.
"What?" my voice came out too fast. "What are you looking at?"
He didn't touch me. He lifted a hand, pressing two fingers to the side of his helmet. Click.
"Now," he said.
One word. The engine died. The sudden quiet made the street feel wrong. I could hear a dog barking three blocks away.
Kade swung off the bike. His boot snagged on the seat—a clumsy, human mistake. For a second, I felt a surge of mean satisfaction. Then he recovered, stepping right into my face.
He didn't walk around me. He walked through me. I had to stumble back or he would’ve flattened me. I smelled gasoline and that sharp peppermint gum he always chewed when he was stressed. He didn't touch me, but his presence felt like a weight crushing the air out of my lungs.
"Where are you going?" I spun around, nearly tripping on a crack in the pavement. "Don't you dare walk away from me again!"
He didn't slow down. He stepped off the curb and into the middle of the lane.
A yellow taxi swerved, leaning on its horn. Kade didn't flinch. The taxi slammed on its brakes, tires screaming, the smell of burnt rubber filling the air.
The driver leaned out, face red, ready to yell. Then he saw the helmet. He saw the way Kade just stood there.
The driver’s face went gray. He didn't honk again. He just sat there, frozen, until he found the nerve to jerk the wheel and peel away.
"You're insane," I hissed. "You've actually lost it."
Kade looked at me then. His gaze was heavy. Then his eyes flicked past me again.
I turned.
A gray sedan sat half a block down. Plain. Boring. The engine was running. Through the tint, I saw two silhouettes. They weren't looking at the traffic.
They were looking at me. Like I was a package waiting to be picked up.
My stomach rolled. My mouth went bone-dry. I stepped back, hitting a trash can.
Kade didn't step back. He started walking toward the sedan.
"Kade—" I said it before I could stop myself.
He didn't answer. His boots made a heavy thud-thud on the asphalt. One of the guys in the car lifted a phone. I saw the red light of a recording app.
Kade stopped by the driver’s window. He spoke—low, muffled. The driver smirked. Then the smirk vanished. The passenger reached for the glove box.
Kade moved. It wasn't a clean fight. It was a brutal explosion. He drove his elbow into the window.
CRACK.
Glass sprayed everywhere. People screamed. Kade reached inside, grabbed a wrist, and twisted. I heard something pop.
Kade slammed his helmet into the passenger's face through the broken glass. Once. Hard. Blood splattered against the dashboard.
I stumbled back, hand over my mouth, feeling the bile rise.
Kade let them go. The sedan lurched into gear, tires smoking as it fled, trailing glass.
The street went dead silent. Phones were out everywhere. I was on a dozen screens by now.
Kade walked back. He stopped way too close.
"What was that?" I whispered.
He didn't answer. He snatched my phone out of my hand.
"Hey! Give it—"
He opened the screen. He knew my passcode. He held the screen up so I could see it.
A notification. A gossip account.
A video of Kade smashing that window.
Caption: DEVIL RIDER SNAPS FOR HIS EX-WIFE.
The comments were a nightmare. “He dumped her because she’s a liability.” “Is she pregnant? She looks disgusting.”
My throat felt like it was closing. "This isn't..." I started. "It's not what it looks like!"
Kade’s visor tilted down.
"Get on."
"What?" I barked.
He didn't repeat himself. He walked back to his bike.
I followed him. I stopped three feet away. "No. I'm not getting on that bike like some... pet."
People on the sidewalk were laughing.
Kade turned. He took one step toward me. He didn't look like a husband. He looked like a wall of stone.
"Lucia," he said. His voice was too calm. "Get. On."
"Make me."
Kade went dead still. He leaned in so close the visor nearly brushed my forehead.
"You want to know why your accounts are frozen? Why the locks are changed?"
I couldn't breathe.
"Because you're already being traded," he said.
"That's—that's a lie," I whispered.
"Look at me."
He lifted the visor. His eyes were flat. Cold.
"They're testing how alone you are," he said. "And you're standing here arguing like you have a choice."
My mouth went dry. "Then why did you divorce me?"
Kade's jaw tightened.
"Because if you stayed my wife," he said, his voice a growl, "they would have killed you first."
He shoved my phone back into my hand. It buzzed.
A screenshot of a dark-web board.
BOUNTY: $250,000 — Lucia Moretti. Alive. Pregnant if possible.
The blood drained from my face. My knees buckled.
Kade grabbed my wrist. Hard. He yanked me toward the bike.
I didn't fight him. I looked at the people on the street. Everyone looked like a predator. He was the only thing standing between me and a cage.
I climbed onto the back. My hands shook so hard I could barely grip his jacket.
"Hold on," he muttered.
He kicked the bike into gear. We tore away, leaving the curb empty. Like I was never there.
- Writer
