Through the flames *MMG REVISION-COMPLETED✔️*

Chapter Seventeen: Unmasked

"Noah."

My heart didn't dare to make a sound as a heavy silence filled the kitchen.

The dark plastic of the visor reflected my pale face framed by hair in long messy curls, a pair of blue eyes widened in silent plead.

"It makes sense," I breathed. "Ever since day one...it makes sense."

The Heat looked away and clenched his fists. "It explains everything," I continued, taking a small step closer. "Why you seemed so interested in me seemingly overnight. Your relationship with Issac." The corner of my lips twitched upwards. "Why Jonas is so passionate about Flippity."

Heat exhaled softly. "Hanna..."

"You don't have to answer." I shook my head. "I understand why you're so protective." After all, if the citizens of Hellmington discovered that the members of an infamous motorcycle gang attended their precious school...the chaos would be catastrophic. Not to mention all the times they've "disturbed the peace".

I never found out what he would have said then. Before he had the chance, the door behind him swung back open - hitting him on the way - to reveal another masked rider.

"Hey, Flippity said - oh." The newcomer floundered when he saw me.

I raised an eyebrow and he cleared his throat, turning to Heat who was rubbing the back of his helmet. "Flippity uh... he wanted me to tell you that..." he glanced at me. "Kinda pointless now, though."

"What'd he say?" Heat urged.

"He said that Hanna wasn't responding over the walkie," The motorcyclist snickered. "He's a little late."

I snorted, and they both turned to me. I lifted my arms in innocence and the newcomer shifted in a way that made me imagine an interested smile break across his face.

"I'm Falcon," he shoved past Heat and extended a hand.

I arched an eyebrow, but shook his hand. "Hanna. But you already knew that."

He had a blue bird silhouette sticker stuck to the side of his helmet. I frowned. "I'd think for a guy named Falcon you'd at least get the right breed of bird," I quipped, gesturing.

He stared at me for a moment before laughing again, tracing his fingers along the sticker. "You're the first to notice."

"Don't lie, prick," Heat quipped, chucking an apple at Falcon. "We tell you every time we see the stupid thing!"

While they bickered, I inched to the side and stole a glimpse into the room Falcon came from.

It was a small living area. A white couch against one wall and a TV against the other. Three more helmeted bikers lounged on the couch, bowls of popcorn and sodas scattered around them.

I furrowed my brow, watching one of them as he attached three straws together, stuck one end in a pint-sized Sprite and forced the other end up under his helmet.

His companion looked on, helmet tilted to the side in fascination.

"What?" The first one quipped. He had an angry juice box sticker on the side of his helmet, small cartoonish arms curled in tiny juice box rage. It had boxing gloves, I noticed in amusement. The third rider - Issac, probably - sat glumly to the side, fiddling away on his laptop with his helmet on. Stuck to the side was a sticker of four keyboard keys that read: GEEK.

The second rider, whos' visor was tinted dark purple, suddenly looked up and jolted when he saw me.

I smiled, and he jumped again.