think it would.
Huh. Yeah. That's pretty much how I fucking feel at the moment.
Surprisingly enough Knox surrenders in a fluster. “Fuck! Fine! Whatever! Just go! Be safe.”
He nods harshly and looks at me. “Move it.”
Without real time to think things through, I hurry out the door behind Madden. Wrench's lips move, his voice trying to reach my ears, but the only thing I can focus on is finding Azura before they do.
Even if she hates me or never wants to see me again, I have to at least make sure she's alive. I don't know if I could live with myself if she paid for the error of my ways...if she paid for my stupid fucking mistake. I should've listened to Madden. I should've backed down.
Flying downtown at speeds that would concern most people, I try to bat down as much anxiety as I can needing the clearest head possible. The second I park, I stumble off my bike and scramble to get inside of Mickey's.
Relieved at the immediate sight of her pouring a beer for Spencer, I try to ignore the idea that she ran straight to him for comfort.
Now's not the best time for a jealous spat. Remind me of that in a sec.
I approach the bar quickly. “Thank God you're safe.”
Unimpressed by my presence she drops her hands on the counter. “I'm not really in the mood McCoy.”
Fighting the urge to be hurt by the comment, my mouth drops open to explain just as the beer bottle Spencer is holding shatters, the humming of a bullet passing by reverberating throughout the room. Alarm instantly fills the bar in the form of shrieks and bodies determined to find safe keeping. Another bullet blazes by before I have the chance to dodge out of the way. Instead of piercing me, Spencer cries out in pain, falling off his stool.
“Get down!” I shout to Azura, dropping lower, another shot fired.
On instinct, I stay low to the ground dodging around bigger targets of tables and chairs, in hopes if they do aim for me, that's what will be hit instead. Azura crawls to the corner of the bar, fear dripping from her big brown eyes.
Grateful she's safe, but knowing we need to move, I command, “Do everything I say.”
Rapidly her head nods. “Yeah.”
The sound of bullets lightens up for a split moment before it seems to increase in volume. Recognizing the sound of more guns being fired at the same time, I lead us even lower to the ground towards the direction of the kitchen. A bottle crashes in front of Azura and she shrieks terrified. My heart aches. I grit my teeth to propel past the agony. Still out of sight we manage to make it through the kitchen door. Finally able to scurry to our feet, I grab her hand and pull her around the cooking station, the shouting from the cook so weak it barely registers. Outside I press us against the wall, put a finger to my lips, and slowly advance us towards the corner. When we arrive, I peer around to see three shooters, helmets still covering their faces, stalking back and forth in front of Mickeys.
“Damn it,” I whisper, my motorcycle right in the hot zone.
Knowing the only choice we have is to wait until they venture inside to go after Azura, I stare on, breath choked out of me. As predicted, they enter the wreckage, people fleeing from the bar. At that moment I tug her hand for us to rush for my bike. Swiftly, we both get our helmets on and bike started before the shooters take notice.
“Hold on!” I shout only seconds before bullets whiz by us.
We peel off down the road, trouble not far behind us. Weaving us around traffic, thankful it's light, I take a sharp left with the intention to head for the highway. Azura's grip around my waist stiffens severely. The feeling of her body trembling for the wrong reasons causes me to accelerate in determination to get her somewhere she's protected.
“Call Big D,” I announce into my helmet.
Bluetooth helmets are amazing for the record.
It only rings once before
Huh. Yeah. That's pretty much how I fucking feel at the moment.
Surprisingly enough Knox surrenders in a fluster. “Fuck! Fine! Whatever! Just go! Be safe.”
He nods harshly and looks at me. “Move it.”
Without real time to think things through, I hurry out the door behind Madden. Wrench's lips move, his voice trying to reach my ears, but the only thing I can focus on is finding Azura before they do.
Even if she hates me or never wants to see me again, I have to at least make sure she's alive. I don't know if I could live with myself if she paid for the error of my ways...if she paid for my stupid fucking mistake. I should've listened to Madden. I should've backed down.
Flying downtown at speeds that would concern most people, I try to bat down as much anxiety as I can needing the clearest head possible. The second I park, I stumble off my bike and scramble to get inside of Mickey's.
Relieved at the immediate sight of her pouring a beer for Spencer, I try to ignore the idea that she ran straight to him for comfort.
Now's not the best time for a jealous spat. Remind me of that in a sec.
I approach the bar quickly. “Thank God you're safe.”
Unimpressed by my presence she drops her hands on the counter. “I'm not really in the mood McCoy.”
Fighting the urge to be hurt by the comment, my mouth drops open to explain just as the beer bottle Spencer is holding shatters, the humming of a bullet passing by reverberating throughout the room. Alarm instantly fills the bar in the form of shrieks and bodies determined to find safe keeping. Another bullet blazes by before I have the chance to dodge out of the way. Instead of piercing me, Spencer cries out in pain, falling off his stool.
“Get down!” I shout to Azura, dropping lower, another shot fired.
On instinct, I stay low to the ground dodging around bigger targets of tables and chairs, in hopes if they do aim for me, that's what will be hit instead. Azura crawls to the corner of the bar, fear dripping from her big brown eyes.
Grateful she's safe, but knowing we need to move, I command, “Do everything I say.”
Rapidly her head nods. “Yeah.”
The sound of bullets lightens up for a split moment before it seems to increase in volume. Recognizing the sound of more guns being fired at the same time, I lead us even lower to the ground towards the direction of the kitchen. A bottle crashes in front of Azura and she shrieks terrified. My heart aches. I grit my teeth to propel past the agony. Still out of sight we manage to make it through the kitchen door. Finally able to scurry to our feet, I grab her hand and pull her around the cooking station, the shouting from the cook so weak it barely registers. Outside I press us against the wall, put a finger to my lips, and slowly advance us towards the corner. When we arrive, I peer around to see three shooters, helmets still covering their faces, stalking back and forth in front of Mickeys.
“Damn it,” I whisper, my motorcycle right in the hot zone.
Knowing the only choice we have is to wait until they venture inside to go after Azura, I stare on, breath choked out of me. As predicted, they enter the wreckage, people fleeing from the bar. At that moment I tug her hand for us to rush for my bike. Swiftly, we both get our helmets on and bike started before the shooters take notice.
“Hold on!” I shout only seconds before bullets whiz by us.
We peel off down the road, trouble not far behind us. Weaving us around traffic, thankful it's light, I take a sharp left with the intention to head for the highway. Azura's grip around my waist stiffens severely. The feeling of her body trembling for the wrong reasons causes me to accelerate in determination to get her somewhere she's protected.
“Call Big D,” I announce into my helmet.
Bluetooth helmets are amazing for the record.
It only rings once before
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