Kat:
We should’ve been heading back to the clubhouse. That’s where we always went. But Blaze took a sharp turn downtown, slipping between traffic with the confidence of someone who ruled the road.
I frowned behind him, arms still wrapped tightly around his waist. “Uh… you missed the turn,” I said, my voice muffled by the rain and helmet. He didn’t respond.
Instead, he weaved us down a quieter street, toward the glimmer of a tall, sleek building that stood out like a sore thumb against the gritty city around it. Modern, polished, the kind of place you imagine CEOs and foreign diplomats living—not a leather-clad biker with blood on his knuckles and engine oil under his nails.
Blaze slowed as we neared the entrance, pressing a small clicker clipped to his belt. A soft beep sounded, and t
