Jax, Knox, Ryder, and I jumped onto our bikes the moment Spike’s taillight disappeared through the back gate. Engines roared to life, deep and furious, the sound vibrating through my chest. The night air was cold and damp, carrying the sharp scent of pine and wet earth as we tore after him.
Spike knew the back roads too well. He weaved through narrow trails and abandoned logging paths, his bike kicking up mud and fallen leaves. I stayed in formation between Jax and Knox, the wind whipping at my face. Ryder rode behind me, his movements careful but determined despite the pain in his side.
The chase was brutal. Mud sucked at our tires. Low branches whipped past our helmets. One wrong turn and we’d crash into the dense trees. Spike pushed his bike hard, trying to lose us in the darkness.
J
