Page 105 of Throttle

I take a deep breath and force a smile, hugging my arms around myself. “Actually. I just remembered I have something I need to—”

“No please. Don’t go. Stay. I only want to talk for a little.” His voice shakes, and there’s a small bead of sweat above his lip. Not that a man’s higher body temperature is cause for suspicion. But it was fifty degrees outside and somehow it feels colder in here.

“Please.” His desperate eyes and pleading tone convince me to agree.

“Okay.”

He leads us to the couch, and we both sit down, him moving closer. Way close. He glances from the window to me and back. Sweat still forming. Right now, it seems like I'm staring into the eyes of a whole new man. Not the calm and charming one I met. The man at Club Beat and from our date was not the same person sitting here. His romantic, cool and collective side has vanished.

“Caleb. Is everything okay?”

He lets out a timid breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just incredibly nervous.”

Outside, motorcycles sound. Lots of them. I can't help but wonder if those are my guys or...

He seems shaken and my nerves shift.

I need to leave. Something isn’t right. This isn’t right.

Shouts and gunshots echo outside.

My stomach drops and I make a sudden dash from the couch, but Caleb catches hold of my hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Without giving my brain a chance to process his apology, the front door swings open to reveal a heavily tattooed, burly man.

“I told you I was handling it!” Caleb shouts from next to me, still gripping too tightly on my arm.

My body trembles in fear.

What was happening?

“You were taking too long.” The stranger pulls out a gun, points it in our direction, and squeezes the trigger.

For a moment, time was motionless. Was I hit? No, but my face is wet, and I touch the spot, then study my finger. It’s blood. There is so much blood.

I’m shaking even more, and my body numbs over in panic.

I glance down at the person shot.

Caleb.

He’s now lying in a pool of his own crimson fluid. Just seconds before he was fine and standing next to me. Now he’s… dead. Was he dead?

I have a ringing in my ears, and everything sounds muffled, drowned out from the thumping noise. My breaths go shallow, and it’s getting harder to breathe.

I cry for Caleb’s lifeless body on the ground. Cry for whatever will happen to me.

I notice movement to my left, but I'm stuck in place and can't budge. I’m paralyzed with the only sound of my own sobs, unable to remember the exact number of times I cried out in panic, but it was enough that my throat was in pain when a firm hand pulls me away.

The ringing persisted while the same biker who fired at Caleb manhandles me. He’s shouting for me to move, gripping my arm, and I’m convinced he might dislocate my shoulder. Even so, I can’t divert my eyes from Caleb’s unmoving body.

He was dead. Shot and killed right in front of me.

“For fuck’s sake.” The biker clutches onto both my arms and that’s when I’m pulled violently out the door and shoved over the stairs, landing hard on my knees. The pain instantly radiates up my legs.

I need to get to my phone. Need to call Throttle. Need to warn Brass…

Shit. Where was Brass?