CHAPTER ONE
DASH
I squint my eyes to get a good look at the car that stands out in the oncoming traffic on this California freeway. It looks like any black Charger, but something about it seems off...
Blacked out windows.
Blacked out rims.
Blacked out lights.
Solid black.
I watch it through the dark tinted visor of my helmet as it passes me. I glance over quickly, in time to see brake lights come on before it comes to a quick stop and turns into the center median. Then I see the colorful lights come on that are hidden in just the right spots.
“Fuck,” I cuss into my helmet.
Just as I suspected. It’s a cop!
I look down to the speedometer on my bike and see that I’m doing ninety-two in a sixty-five. Fuck!
I reach back and tap the thigh of the girl who is sitting on the back of my bike—signaling to hold on. I feel her knees pull in on my legs as her arms wrap tightly around my waist. Her big ass fake tits, a high school graduation present from her parents, are against my back just as I rev the throttle more. I can pretty much bet my left nut that she’s yelling at me through her helmet right now to slow the fuck down. But it’s too late. I’ve already decided to run and now I’m committed to it.
I look down quickly to see I’m going well over a hundred when I look in my side mirror and notice the Charger gaining on us. I need to get off the highway and try to lose him in a neighborhood on some backstreets. I see an exit up ahead and decide at the last minute to take it.
I look both ways and run a red light when I see both directions are clear. I swerve through traffic quickly as my adrenaline pumps. I know this road. I’m only about a mile away from my best friend Blake’s house.
I take my next right and see a cop car pulling out in front of me. His lights come on as well.
Shit! Of course, the cop on the highway has called for backup.
I let off the throttle and pull on the brake. I turn into a gas station, and without stopping, I exit out of the opposite side, getting back on the road.
I see another cop coming from the opposite direction. Fuck! I should have just stayed on the highway, but I didn’t want the possibility to get stuck in traffic.
Fuck it! I need back on the highway.
I go to take the on-ramp, but there are already cops there as well. I’m fucked. I look over to the ditch. I could take it. It’s not that deep. The bike could get me through it and back onto the highway in no time. They would never be able to catch me. But Valerie tightens her body around me, reminding me she’s also on the bike, and I won’t risk her life.
I bring the bike to a quick stop. The front of Valerie’s helmet hits the back of mine from the force due to my last-minute decision to surrender.
She starts to climb off the bike before I can even get my feet on the ground, almost knocking us over. I watch as she frantically pulls her helmet off and throws it to the ground. I cringe as it hits the concrete. Couldn’t she have thrown it behind her in the grass? Stupid bitch.
I climb off quickly as well. I’ve been in this situation enough to know that the police will fucking tackle your ass while you’re still sitting on your bike. And all that does is knock your bike over, and that pisses me off. Cops are dicks anyways, but they are ten times worse when you try to run from them and they catch you.
I take my helmet off as well and set it on the ground. They are also known to cut your helmet off. This one is my favorite—no way will I let that happen.
“Hands up in the air!” a police officer yells with his gun raised and aimed right at me. By now other cop cars are coming to a stop to join the show—lights flashing and tires squealing.
I raise them with a heavy sigh. Can’t they see I’m not packing? Where in the hell would I keep it? I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
“Is there a problem officer?” I ask with a cocky smile.
Valerie lets out a cry, and I turn around to look at
DASH
I squint my eyes to get a good look at the car that stands out in the oncoming traffic on this California freeway. It looks like any black Charger, but something about it seems off...
Blacked out windows.
Blacked out rims.
Blacked out lights.
Solid black.
I watch it through the dark tinted visor of my helmet as it passes me. I glance over quickly, in time to see brake lights come on before it comes to a quick stop and turns into the center median. Then I see the colorful lights come on that are hidden in just the right spots.
“Fuck,” I cuss into my helmet.
Just as I suspected. It’s a cop!
I look down to the speedometer on my bike and see that I’m doing ninety-two in a sixty-five. Fuck!
I reach back and tap the thigh of the girl who is sitting on the back of my bike—signaling to hold on. I feel her knees pull in on my legs as her arms wrap tightly around my waist. Her big ass fake tits, a high school graduation present from her parents, are against my back just as I rev the throttle more. I can pretty much bet my left nut that she’s yelling at me through her helmet right now to slow the fuck down. But it’s too late. I’ve already decided to run and now I’m committed to it.
I look down quickly to see I’m going well over a hundred when I look in my side mirror and notice the Charger gaining on us. I need to get off the highway and try to lose him in a neighborhood on some backstreets. I see an exit up ahead and decide at the last minute to take it.
I look both ways and run a red light when I see both directions are clear. I swerve through traffic quickly as my adrenaline pumps. I know this road. I’m only about a mile away from my best friend Blake’s house.
I take my next right and see a cop car pulling out in front of me. His lights come on as well.
Shit! Of course, the cop on the highway has called for backup.
I let off the throttle and pull on the brake. I turn into a gas station, and without stopping, I exit out of the opposite side, getting back on the road.
I see another cop coming from the opposite direction. Fuck! I should have just stayed on the highway, but I didn’t want the possibility to get stuck in traffic.
Fuck it! I need back on the highway.
I go to take the on-ramp, but there are already cops there as well. I’m fucked. I look over to the ditch. I could take it. It’s not that deep. The bike could get me through it and back onto the highway in no time. They would never be able to catch me. But Valerie tightens her body around me, reminding me she’s also on the bike, and I won’t risk her life.
I bring the bike to a quick stop. The front of Valerie’s helmet hits the back of mine from the force due to my last-minute decision to surrender.
She starts to climb off the bike before I can even get my feet on the ground, almost knocking us over. I watch as she frantically pulls her helmet off and throws it to the ground. I cringe as it hits the concrete. Couldn’t she have thrown it behind her in the grass? Stupid bitch.
I climb off quickly as well. I’ve been in this situation enough to know that the police will fucking tackle your ass while you’re still sitting on your bike. And all that does is knock your bike over, and that pisses me off. Cops are dicks anyways, but they are ten times worse when you try to run from them and they catch you.
I take my helmet off as well and set it on the ground. They are also known to cut your helmet off. This one is my favorite—no way will I let that happen.
“Hands up in the air!” a police officer yells with his gun raised and aimed right at me. By now other cop cars are coming to a stop to join the show—lights flashing and tires squealing.
I raise them with a heavy sigh. Can’t they see I’m not packing? Where in the hell would I keep it? I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
“Is there a problem officer?” I ask with a cocky smile.
Valerie lets out a cry, and I turn around to look at
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