How did I get here? I was already on Zayne’s bike and I didn’t even know a damn thing about him except that he rode a sleek black motorcycle and he looked intimidating as hell itself.
I refused to judge him with what Carol said about him. Jeremy warned me that he was trouble, yet, he was the one who shattered me. Zayne didn’t. He couldn’t, not when he wasn’t the one who held my heart in his palm like he could toss it anytime and get it wounded.
He kicked the engine to life and rode on like he was chasing death. I pressed my cheek against his back, teeth gritted, eyes squeezed shut, clutching his leather jacket so tight my knuckles ached.
I screamed out of fear, feeling my lungs burn.
What was I doing riding with a stranger who was likely dangerous and now sensing he would speed us to
