C O M P L E T E - first draft.
7x featured story.
Undiscovered Gem, Romance Ambassadors, January 2025.
Ambys 2024 Favourite - Mystery & Thriller
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I don't register what comes first--Mum's screams and curses, or the searing pain that perforates...
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September 11th
C A R M E N
Zachary only agrees to let me on his bike once he's sure I'm mostly sober. He makes me down another two cups of water and wolf down a stale piece of bread from his works' kitchen before we leave the garage.
"You sure you'll be okay, Ellis?" he asks for what feels like the hundredth time as he hands me the same helmet I wore several days ago. "We can wait it out a little longer if you're still tipsy."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes—he's done a lot for me these last few days, and he deserves my gratitude. "I'll be fine, I promise." I take the helmet from him and pull it onto my head. My neck hurts less when it comes down this time, but there's still some slight discomfort.
His lips quirk upward. "Thought you said you'd never get on the back of my bike again?" he teases, and this time I cannot hide my frustration as I release a tut.
"Seems I have little choice in the matter."
Zachary nods. "Seems that way."
He puts his own helmet on before walking toward me, fastening mine on my head correctly. "Same as last time," he says as he drops his hands to my shoulders and gives them a squeeze. "You need to hold on to me real tight. Got it?"
"Got it," I reply.
Zachary heads over to his bike and mounts it, inserting the key into the ignition and bringing it to life. Meanwhile, I walk to the back of the vehicle like I did a few days ago and scoot onto the seat behind him. I wrap my hands around his broad body—hands flat against his torso, just like before.
But, this time, something is different.
This time, instead of his biker leathers, Zachary wears a thin, white tee with a jacket over the top. His choice of clothing does little to hide the solid plains of his abdomen from my burning fingertips, and the way he stiffens under my touch tells me I'm not the only once who notices this.
"Ellis," Zachary says just loud enough for me to hear over the roar of his bike's engine. "You're gonna want to stop feeling me up back there or we might not make it to yours in one piece."
Most of the time, I brush off his flirtatious remarks, but this time, I do not.
"Why? Are my hands distracting you or something?" I tease right back, and I swear I feel his breath hitch under my touch.
"You've got no idea."
I open my mouth to respond, but before the words come out, Zachary pulls away from his work parking lot. "Hold on," he tells me, and then turns onto the main road and begins pelting toward my house.
