Little Fighter (The Lost Boys)

Chapter Seven: Sweet Dreams

***Author's Note: This chapter contains trigger warnings for disturbing nonconsensual subject matter.

David's piercing gaze never strayed from the wet asphalt. The thick mist that swept in off the ocean was a driving hazard as were the sharp turns and rain slicked pavement that wound up into the forested hills of Santa Carla. He was on a deadline that did not allow for errors or excuses. 

The Triumph Bonneville growled in annoyance when David was forced to cut his speed and lean into a sharp right turn that made Sarah tighten the grip she had on him least she accidentally tumble off the back of the motorcycle. Despite the slick road conditions the Triumph roared into the night as David gunned the engine at twenty over the regulated speed limit.

Navigating the steep winding road that led to Max's place required a steady hand but tonight David was having a hard time keeping a firm hold on his simmering anger. After having all day to brood over Lincoln's unexpected arrival and his deliberate attempt to butcher Paul for the sole purpose of annoying the heck out of him, David was not in the best of moods.

The Triumph seemed to channel  all of David's frustration as he opened the throttle a bit more.

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face into the back of David's heavy trench coat as the Triumph snarled in her ears. The two vampires rode in silence but every so often a growl would escape David. Sarah could feel the vibrations through the multiple layers of his jackets and it scared her.

"David," Sarah turned her face away from his shoulder so that her words weren't muffled by fabric, "is it my fault that you're in trouble with Max? If it is then I'm - I'm sorry."

Those pale blue eyes grew a little harder and his grip on the handlebars became a little firmer but other than that the vampire leader gave no indication that he had heard her. Sarah swallowed before she closed her eyes once again. Usually the rare ride with David and the others was an enjoyable experience. But there was something about this night that made her feel sick inside. It was almost as if she could feel that something bad was going to happen and she wasn't the only one.

Sarah did not open her eyes until the bike slowed to a crawl and halted alongside a pristine white painted fence that encompassed the entirety of Max's vast property. Blinking hard in an attempt to get rid of the dry eye feeling she had Sarah dismounted first and hugged herself tightly as a chill ran up her spine.

There was something different about Max's estate.

"David, who's car is that?" She asked quietly as she eyed the hulking black and white  American muscle car that sat in the spot where Max usually parked his red high-end convertible.

David eyed the flawless 70's Chevelle SS for a moment before he twisted the keys out of the ignition and stepped away from his bike. Next to the muscle car the Triumph looked practically pathetic.

"Let's go." He said gruffly and grabbed Sarah by the arm before he stalked across the wooden walkway that led straight to Max's front door.

"David you're hurting me."

Sarah tried to match David's long strides as her words fell on deaf ears once again. The scowl on David's face darkened considerably when he caught sight of Thorn, a white shepherd that was Max's personal hound of hell. The large dog sat vigilantly by the front door without moving. The only tell was that it pinned its ears back in response to David and Sarah's approached. The brute did not like them and the feeling was mutual.

Thorn let out a loud booming bark that made Sarah jump and miss a step.

"Something bad is going to happen isn't it?" Sarah asked in a small voice that irked David