POV ESMERAY
The desert stretched out before us, an endless canvas of ochre dust and stark, ancient rock formations under a sky the color of bruised plums. The sun was just beginning to climb, painting the horizon in fiery hues, but the air was still frigid. We had been riding through the night, leaving the rain-soaked coast behind for the dry, unforgiving expanse of Nevada. My body was numb, but my mind was clearer than it had been in days. I had made my choice. I was with Ruan Montague, for better or worse.
Ruan hadn't spoken much since we left the motel. He drove with an almost ruthless focus, his silhouette a dark, powerful figure against the dawn. I clung to him, my head resting against his back, feeling the rhythmic thrum of the Harley vibrating through my weary bones. His pre
