Please.
The crowd around the restaurant in the heart of downtown isn’t as congested as it is in the summer. I sprint down the sidewalk, barely avoiding colliding with an older woman.
“Madison!” Justin yells. “Get back here!”
Justin drove this morning, so I don’t have my car. There is no way for me to get away from him. I’m terrified to go back home because he knows where I live.
A scream lodges in my throat.
Someone help me. Take me away from here, please.
I cross the road and go down another block, hoping it’s enough to lose Justin. I glance over my shoulder and whimper. The asshole is still chasing me. I turn forward and grunt as I slam into a warm, hard wall. Large hands land on my hips and squeeze. I gasp and look up.
“OVERWHELMED” ROYAL & THE SERPENT
“Ryder,” I breathe.
Relief floods me, even though I shouldn’t be this happy to see him. It’s not like my brother will protect me. He’s made it clear I mean nothing to him. He can’t stand me.
I expect him to let go of me and walk away like he always does. He’ll put me back in the role of a ghost, and he’ll leave me here with whatever Justin has planned for me.
Ryder’s dark eyebrows furrow as his gaze flicks over my face, taking in my horrified state. I’m still in fight-or-flight mode.The cold weather dried my tears, but I’m sure my makeup left behind stains.
“Madison!” Justin yells.
Ryder’s attention snaps past my head. Shadows creep over his features, and his lips curl in a snarl. He takes my hand and drags me to his motorcycle. The difference in his touch compared to Justin’s is worlds apart. While Justin is rough and punishing, Ryder handles me with more care, though his grip is firm as he gets me to safety.
I’m okay. He’ll keep me safe.I hold back the sob swelling in my chest.
Ryder stops at his parked motorcycle and hands his helmet to me. “Put this on.”
I pull the safety gear over my head, but I’m in such a panic that I struggle to fasten the straps beneath my chin. Ryder’s hands replace mine. He works fast, then helps me onto the seat behind him. I start as the engine growls to life.
“Madison!” Justin sprints toward us, only ten feet away. My stomach sinks at the fury on his face. “We’re not done. Get back here!”
I yelp and clamp my arms around Ryder as we take off. The shops whiz past in a blur. They meld into a mosaic of bright colors and Halloween decorations. I peek over my shoulder, certain Justin will be right behind us. He can’t run as fast as a motorcycle, but in my panic-stricken state, I can’t think clearly. He’s nothing but a speck down the road. I turn forward and squeeze Ryder so I don’t fall off the speeding bike.
We blast past cars as he splits lanes, making it look easier than it really is. Ryder yells and leans into a sharp left while keeping us balanced so we don’t topple over and slide across the pavement. I tense and look to my right as a car slams on its brakes to avoid colliding with us. They honk their horn, andI barely catch them flipping us off before Ryder speeds out of traffic.
Panic turns my lungs into lead as I raise my gaze to the back of Ryder’s head. He’s not wearing a helmet. Because, of course he isn’t. He handed his to me, and I was too frazzled to ask about his own safety gear. We could crash at any point, and he’d get seriously injured. Considering how fast we’re going, he could even die.
He leans forward as we fly past cars honking at us. Ryder doesn’t seem bothered by their noise. In fact, he flips the drivers off behind us and increases the speed.
My mind screams that we’re going to crash any second, though I can barely hear my thoughts over the loud engine. The earlier panic attack resurfaces, and I’m left choking for air as I clutch my unbothered stepbrother like he’s a lifeline.
Traffic thins to a trickle, and we race down a back road leading to the hiking trails. Ryder doesn’t slow down, even though no one trails us. Justin is back in town, and there’s no way he’d know where we’re going.
Ryder slows the motorcycle as we pull into the park outside of the walking trail. I cling to him, even when he stops and uses his boot to put the kickstand down.
Can he feel my racing heart against his back? Does he notice how my hands tremble as I clutch the front of his hoodie?
He switches off the engine and straightens from his bent position. My arms squeeze tighter around him, and I tense as his large hand covers my smaller one. I squeeze my eyes shut as he turns his head to look at me.
Ryder untangles himself from me as he dismounts from the seat. He notices that I’m caught in the clutches of a panic attack, so he inches toward me, his hand stretched out.
“Need help?” He keeps his voice low.
I barely manage a nod.
