Getaway
The short thick heels of my boots were clicking against the asphalt as I was running toward my bike. Well, technically, my borrowed bike, which I got from the Venoms, the current MC that I was involved with. Well, it was only for business - no romance involved. There were some hot guys there, but hell, I'm not dumb enough to get myself involved with them. These guys were dominant, dangerous assholes, who claimed any women they touched as theirs. That's not something I could come around with.
Throwing my leg over the bike, I climbed on it, making the motor roar to life and giving one last look at the group of men that were chasing me. Giving them one last smile, I hit the road, with the black leather book I had stolen secured under my arm, and the wind hitting me in the face, making my hair flow in long brunette waves. I didn't have the time to put on my helmet, and right now I didn't care about it either. If I'd had lost any more time, I would have been dead from a gunshot in my head and, to be fair, I'd rather die riding than by looking at the muzzle of a gun.
I've made my escape plan and, as far as I know, it should be perfect.
I left all the cash I had in a safe at the airport, from which I'll fly to South Carolina, where a little beach house is waiting for me on Folly Beach.
As for the bike, I'll probably trash it on a side road or maybe I'll just accidentally let it fall down a hill into a river. I don't care, the only thing that's important to me right now is that I get out of here without anybody catching up with me.
Hearing the low roars of motorbikes behind me, I speed up. The best option for me right now is to catch up on time and to try and keep a low profile. I can't be held up by the cops or s**t like that, so I did the first best thing that crossed my mind. I turned into a dark alley and left my bike there. I had about a five-minute walk to the airport from where I was and if I ran there, I'd be there half the time without being caught.
The only good thing is, that I don't have to worry about fingerprints and being sought after by the police. The motherfuckers I've worked for for the past few years have got nothing on with them, other than being looked down upon. The cops don't want any trouble with them, but they're not taking any bribes either, since it's not like their club is powerful enough to get some actual respect in the city, but they still like to dream. Now, one would ask themselves, why would someone want to steal anything from them if they ain't important? Thing is, the little s**t-heads want to expand. Not only in size, but also in business. They are snakes and although they ain't venomous, they still know how to play smart and do some damage. They infiltrated a little slut into one of the most dangerous MCs known in Europe as a whole. Sometimes, they refer to themselves as mafia blood, but we all know that's bullshit, they ain't even near that kind of level of respect and power. Problem is, they did make a lot of contacts. Ones, which can make or break you. Dangerous people, who, when paid enough, will do anything for you without leaving a trace. The girl, of course, seduced and wrapped the guys around her little finger and went for the kill. Not literally, of course, they could never bring that kind of s**t, but she did get close enough to be able to steal the little black leather book that was now in my possession and leave without a trace. At least that's what they think, but I'm pretty sure that their little MC is on the verge of being killed off. Nobody can hide from the Hell Hounds.
However, since I want to live to see another day, I don't want to get into the crossfire of those two MCs. I'm getting the hell out of here, moving into the little beach house that I bought from some old guy, who wasn't able to take care of the property anymore. Supposedly it's a dump, but I'm not complaining. I don't need much, and it's not like I can't repair some stuff.
But for right now, there is only one thing on my mind. Keeping myself safe. I've always had to provide for myself on my own, and after doing so for some years, I gained some skills that other, more "ordinary" people don't have. The fact, that my mother was probably lying in a ditch, one leg in her grave, and that my dad was running his own MC had its plus sides, I guess. Thing is, there are only negative sides if you have to live in a world like mine. My dad didn't have a lot of time for me throughout my childhood and when he did, he would teach me what he called "useful tricks". It was lessons on "how to get away with crime“, which involved everything from pickpocketing to using a gun. When I was 15, I rode a motorbike for the first time, and I fell in love with it immediately. Till then, I could never understand where dad got the passion for it from, but once I felt the wind in my hair, the feeling of freedom filling up my body and mind, I was a goner. To be exact, it's almost like experiencing the rush of sharing a kiss with a stranger. So many possibilities, so many bad and good things that could happen, but the nerve-wracking feeling that is spreading through you is clouding your judgment and you end up being compelled by the feeling.
Finally, at the airport, I was frantically looking for the little golden key, which was stashed somewhere in my bra. Running while having your hand down your shirt in an airport is not the best look, and this statement was proven by all the curious looks I got from people waiting to get on their flights. If I had more time and wasn't chased by some biker dudes, I would probably have screamed something to them about minding their own damn business, but that wasn't going to happen now.
When I finally managed to fish out the key, I was already in front of the small square boxes. I quickly scanned the numbers, finding the one with the number 058 and unlocking it. I grabbed the black, fake Salvatore Ferragamo bag I "inherited" from my mother, throwing in the little book I had been squeezing to my side this whole time, and fishing out my tattered old wallet, in which was my boarding pass and passport, and ran to the check-in. Since I hadn't spotted any of the MC guys yet, I hoped their stupidity would hold them back from coming here long enough for me to get past security, out of this open space, and out of this State altogether.
