Her mind drifted back to what had just happened between them, and her stomach fluttered. Kane wasn’t just attractive; he was dangerous in a way that could ruin a woman if she let him. And she was already halfway there. She was definitely thinking about him far more than she should.
Then Kane’s body went rigid as a loud pop sounded.
Before she could ask what was wrong, the bike jerked. Hard.
“Fuck!” Kane cursed as the back tire fishtailed.
Bright headlights exploded behind them.
The bike bucked once more and then went down.
Monica screamed as they slammed into the pavement. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, pain flashing white as they hit and started sliding. The road tore at her, sparks screaming around them... and then Kane was there.
His hand locked around her arm, yanking her toward him as they slid. He twisted mid-slide, wrapping his body around hers, forcing her head against his chest. He took the brunt of it—shoulder, back, hips—shielding her as they skidded across the concrete at a terrifying speed.
“I’ve got you!” Kane yelled over the roar and scrape of metal and asphalt. “Hold on to me!”
She clutched him, fingers digging into his jacket as he adjusted his grip, keeping her tucked tight, her face buried against him. The road burned and screamed beneath them, but he never loosened his hold.
Then one of his arms left her.
Monica cried out, lifting her head just in time to see him reach back and pull a gun free.
Shots cracked the night.
She squeezed her eyes shut as the sound of bullets rang out, sharp and deafening. Something metallic pinged. She dared a glance and saw headlights bearing down on them, a truck or a van, was coming fast and straight for them.
She screamed again, certain she was going to die as more gunfire exploded.
The vehicle swerved violently, missing them by feet, then by inches. Kane and Monica slammed against something, she didn’t know what, but they came to a brutal stop, the force stealing her breath as her vision blurred, and her lungs refused to cooperate.
“I’ve got you,” he said again as if he felt her fear, but his tone was rough with rage.
Another motorcycle skidded to a stop nearby.
“You okay?” Raven shouted over the engine.
“Yeah,” Kane snapped, already moving, carefully shifting Monica and lowering her flat onto the ground. His hands were gentle now, despite the fury burning in his voice. “Monica? Look at me.”
“Charger’s on his way,” Raven yelled. “I’m going after the bastards.”
“Wait for backup,” Kane ordered, sharp and absolute.
Monica blinked, air finally forcing its way back into her lungs. Kane was above her, his face tight with concern and anger. “Where are you hurt?” he demanded.
“I… I don’t know.” She tried to move. Pain flared along her left side; she hissed, biting back a cry.
Kane swore viciously, his hands hovering, afraid to touch her the wrong way. “Don’t move,” he said, his voice deadly calm. “Call Slade!”
“Already done,” Raven said, appearing behind Kane, her stance casual but her eyes sharp as she kept watch over the road.
“I’m okay,” Monica croaked, trying to push herself up. Her side throbbed, but it wasn’t unbearable. “Just… help me up.”
Kane didn’t hesitate. He lifted her with ease and kept her tucked against him, his grip firm as his gaze swept over her face. “Easy,” he warned quietly, then turned his attention to Raven. “How did you know?”
“I passed the van, it was flying past me, and I just had a gut feeling,” Raven replied, glancing to where the van disappeared.
Monica barely listened as her eyes drifted to his bike lying mangled across the wet pavement. The earlier rain slickened the road, but she knew that wasn’t the reason they went down. Her stomach clenched. “They were trying to run us over.”