The bridge flexes under my wheels as the black biker follows us and gains speed again.
“Now what Luna?” I ask my girl, before going back to shouting “Move!” to all the people who see me coming and freeze in place.
He’s catching up, and his front tire glances off Luna’s rear one. My bike shakes, and I fight to keep her going, and he comes in again. I’m yelling and screaming and running through so many ideas in my head as to how to get out of this situation, but nothing makes sense. There’s nothing I can foresee working.
“This is it baby girl.” I say to the bike as if I were saying goodbye to a lover.
I’m going to die on the bike that I love. I guess if I have to go, this is the way to do it. I always knew her and I would be together forever, I just never thought forever would end so soon.
Like an act of God, Luna stalls, her engine completely cutting out. My speed drops instantly and I hold on tighter, waiting for the death wobble, but it doesn’t come. What does come, is the black bike whizzing past us, the rider looking back over his shoulder, probably as confused as I am.
“Goodbye my girl.” I cry out, closing my eyes, accepting my fate.
Just as I’m about to kiss my big ass goodbye, Luna roars back to life, without me doing anything. The sneaky bitch is my fucking saving grace, pulling me straighter and leveling herself out until we’re racing behind the other rider, gaining on him like how he gained on us.
“Yes! That’s it my girl!” I yell in surprised excitement, slapping her tank and caressing it quickly before I twist the throttle and lurch up onto the black rider’s ass.
“Your turn motherfucker.” I scream, holding the bars tighter, tapping my foot into the next gear, preparing for impact.
People scatter on the passageway as the cars below on the city streets are oblivious to what’s happening above them. It’s utter chaos as I ram the back tire of his bike, making him wobble and fight for control as I hold on for dear life, letting Luna do her own thing.
He weaves back and forth, fighting against the shakes, and I pull back, knowing where this is going. A typical young rider he is, full of balls but not experience. He fights it, leaning back and forth, accelerating, but loses control.
The liter bike hits the wall on the side of the lane, flipping the back up into the air, tossing him forward off the bike and over the edge of the bridge. He’s gone over before the bike even falls down on its side at the wall, the wheels still spinning, the pieces of its fairings still raining down like chunks of hail in a storm.
“Holy fuck.” I yell, braking as fast as I can without tail spinning or losing control.
Coming to a stop about twenty feet in front of the accident, I hop off the bike and run back to where he went over, tripping over pieces of his bike that still rattle around on the ground. I’m not prepared for what I see when I get close, but his gloved fingers are holding onto the cement wall, his body hanging off the edge, his feet dangling down over the traffic below. It’s awesome.
Pausing, I stand there leaning over the bridge ledge, watching him as he hangs there. Not once does he beg for help or try to reach out for me. He knows his fate. He’s failed at the job he was given.
“Here, let me help. I’ll end your misery faster.” I laugh as I make a fist and raise it into the air, not able to see how wide his eyes probably are under that tinted visor.
His knuckles crack loudly as I punch down on his fingers, making him yelp in pain, but he holds on, until I hit him again and again, pounding on his hands until his fingers slip and he lets go.
His drop to the road below seems to take forever, like it’s a slow-motion scene in an action movie, that is until he drops far enough down that the big, blue rig coming has no choice but to smack into him with its windshield.
Like a bug he splatters on the glass, breaking it, and bursting into a shower of blood and guts as the trucks tires and brakes squeal, but it’s too late. He’s road kill.
“Try harder next time Scarpinos.” I say, shaking my head and walking back to Luna, leaving the chaos and destruction behind me.
Chapter Thirteen
My insides are still shaken up when I pull into the lot behind my work, parking Luna in my normal spot, but not entering the restaurant. I don’t want to be caught by any other “jobs” when I’m on a mission now more than ever to find the bitch who is supposed to love me, not try to kill me.
Pot, kettle?
I stomp around the building and come out front into the bright lunchtime sunlight, cursing about not having sunglasses because the helmet’s visor is tinted. It’s a lot of good that does me hanging on the bike handle though. I’m cranky, irritated, hot, and ready to beat the fuck out of someone just to make myself feel better, but I know I can’t. I have to wait for little miss thing and find out why she wanted me dead, besides the fact I’m supposed to kill her.
“Damien!” Valentino calls out from behind me, popping out of the dining room’s door onto the sidewalk as I emerge from the lot, shielding my eyes from the blaring sun. “Wait man.”
Without looking back at him I slow my pace but don’t stop. If he wants to talk to me he’s going to have to bark at my heels like a dog.
“What Valentino?”
“You find her yet?” He asks, huffing out his breath as he moves his short legs to keep up with me as I cross the street, holding up my hand for the oncoming cars to slow down.
“Yeah.”
