Page 59 of Kings Have No Mercy
Mason swerves, dodging him and the others, leading us off-road. The bike bounces, taking us over gravel and rocky terrain as he struggles to regain control.
“Syd, hold on!”
As the gang of bikers ride off, we slam to a halt. The stop’s too sudden and jarring. It breaks my hold on Mason and sends me tumbling off. I cry out as I become aware my body’s leaving the bike. I collide with the ground, landing hard on my side.
My head hits the dirt and gravel. The pounding ache in my skull is the last thing I remember before my eyes close and consciousness slips away.
17
MASON
“SYDNEY!”I roar, throwing myself off my bike. I drop to the ground next to her, a surge of panic inside me, and roll her over onto her back. “Sydney, wake up… shit. Sydney, can you hear me?”
I pull her into my lap and curl my body around her, like I’ll be able to shield her from the rest of the world if I do. Her head droops off to one side and she releases the tiniest fucking groan of pain. If I wasn’t already in protector mode, the small, helpless sound activates it.
I caress her cheek and gently coax her awake. “Sydney, tell me you’re alright. Fuck!”
I check her for any bleeding or serious injury. As far as I can tell, it’s just cuts and scrapes from the brutal fall she took. I cradle her closer and stroke her face ’til her eyes flutter open and she stares up at me.
Judging by the vacant look she gives me, she’s beyond lost.
“Sydney,” I pant in relief. “Stay awake. Fuck, let me get you to an ER. You need to be checked out.”
I pull her the rest of the way into my arms and rise off the ground.
We’re out in the middle of nowhere. It’s late and all I’ve got is a bike to transport her.
I swear under my breath. I’d walk a thousand miles if necessary, just to get her some medical treatment… but what if she can’t wait that long?
I do the only thing I can in a situation like this—I call 911. It goes against every Steel King bone in my body to resort to calling them. The cops and other types of officials have never been useful to me.
They’re about as much my enemy as the Hellrazors.
The fucking Hellrazors.
My face darkens in murderous fury.
Tonight was a new low… which says a lot considering the Hellrazors were already in the fucking gutter. Shooting up Bush’s trailer and burning down Brinkley’s farming crops wasn’t enough.
Tonight they went after Sydney. They could’ve killed her with the games they were pulling on their bikes.
The two of us might not be best buds, but I won’t stand by and let this shit fly.
They must’ve been following us. We had driven all the way from Lenton, making a stop for dinner in Boulder, and then hit the highway again. Wheaton is a long ways—clearly, they had been waiting for the chance.
“Hang on, Syd,” I say as sirens flash in the distance. “It’s gonna be alright.”
On the inside, with rage heating my blood, that couldn’t be less true.
Shit’s not alright. It won’t be alright ’til I get my revenge and make them sorry they ever messed with us.
* * *
“Luck was on your side,” says the ER doc. He clicks on a mini flashlight and shines a beam of light into both of Sydney’s eyes. “She’s not concussed. A little banged up, but a night’s rest and some pain meds, and she should be back to normal come tomorrow.”
“You sure?” I ask. “She seemed real dizzy.”
“She took a great fall—even if you say you were decelerating, on a bike like yours and on the terrain you were on, it could’ve been a lot worse,” he explains, dropping his flashlight into the pocket of his white coat. “I suggest next time you don’t have your girlfriend on your bike without proper safety gear like a helmet.”