Chapter 1
Rain hammered relentlessly against the cracked bus window, blurring the outside world into a smear of grey and black. I wiped the condensation away with the damp sleeve of my oversized sweater, my chest heaving as paranoia clawed violently at my throat.๏ปฟ
Fourteen hours. I had been sitting on this rotting bus for fourteen straight hours, terrified that every passing headlight belonged to him.
Adrian Vale. The billionaire psychopath who would burn the entire country to the ground just to chain me back to his bed.
I tightened my trembling grip on the straps of my canvas duffle bag. Inside was my entire life: a few clothes, a little cash, and a fake ID Iโd paid too much for. I was entering Black Creekโa forgotten valley town where dirty secrets stayed buried and girls like me could become nobody.
The heavy bus hissed to a violent stop, its brakes screaming against the downpour. Outside, a buzzing neon sign flickered unsteadily against the dark, casting an eerie crimson glow over the wet asphalt.
HELLโS THROTTLE.
The name sounded like a fatal warning, but I didnโt have a choice. This was the end of the line.
The moment my boots hit the pavement, the suffocating scent of gasoline, rain-soaked leather, and stale cigarette smoke wrapped around me like a trap. The bus doors slammed shut behind me, and within seconds, its taillights vanished into the blinding storm, leaving me utterly alone.
Then, I felt it.
That primal, icy prickle at the base of my neck.
Eyes. Someone was hunting me.
I froze beneath the glowing red neon sign, rain instantly soaking through my hair. Slowly, my eyes drifted toward the dark shadows across the narrow street.
A man was leaning casually against a massive, pitch-black motorcycle. Heavy black ink crept up his muscular neck, disappearing beneath his jawline. He wore a damp leather jacket, his broad shoulders easily cutting through the freezing wind. But it was his face that made the oxygen leave my lungs completely.
Rugged. Lethal. Carved from solid stone.
His sharp obsidian gaze locked onto meโheavy, piercing, and suffocatingly intense. It wasnโt a look of curiosity. It was the calculated gaze of an apex predator mapping out its prey. Like he already owned the ground I was bleeding on.
The biker pushed himself off the motorcycle, his movements dangerously fluid. His heavy leather boot scraped against the wet pavement as low thunder shook the sky directly above us. Every survival instinct screamed at me to run, to vanish into the woods.
But God, I was so damn tired of running.
โYou lost, sweetheart?โ
His deep voice rumbled through the storm, gravelly and dark, sending an unexpected, dangerous shiver straight down my spine.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my chin up despite my knees knocking together. I needed to look untouchable, even if I was shattering inside. โJust looking for a motel.โ
His dark eyes dragged over me slowly, taking in my soaked clothes, my shivering frame, and the defensive way I held my bag against my chest. His jaw tightened, a sharp muscle ticking in his cheek.
โWho hurt you?โ
The question cut straight through my armor, catching me completely off guard. My breath hitched. Did I look that broken? Was my trauma screaming that loudly?
I forced a dry, hollow laugh to mask the rising panic. โDo you ask that to every stranger who gets off the bus?โ
โNo,โ he muttered, taking a slow, deliberate step closer until his massive shadow completely swallowed me. Rain poured over his hardened face, but he didnโt even blink. โJust the ones who look like theyโre waiting for a ghost to drag them back to hell.โ
My heart pounded frantically against my ribs. He was right. I was terrified. But I wasnโt scared of his size, or his dark tattoos. I was terrified of the monster who was probably tracking my cell signal right now.
Suddenlyโthe deafening, predatory roar of high-powered engines shattered the night, echoing from the far end of the dark street. Bright, blinding headlights cut through the torrential rain.
The bikerโs expression shifted instantly. The cold intrigue vanished, replaced by a lethal, blinding rage. Before I could even react, his large, calloused hand shot out, wrapping like iron around my upper arm.
โInside. Now.โ he growled, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying command.
Without waiting for my permission, he practically yanked me off my feet, hauling me across the wet pavement and slamming open the heavy wooden door of Hellโs Throttle. He shoved me into the shadow-drenched interior just as the approaching convoy of armed bikes roared onto the lot, blinding the windows with light.
To Be Continued
