AllFreeNovel
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The original post got shared so many times, the comment section exploded. By that afternoon, Sally’s friend had added an artistic rendition of me. A much sexier version where my buxom frame wore leather that served no practical purpose, and a cloak that would get caught in my wheels if I ever dared to ride with it. Preposterous. Yet I saved a copy of it because…hello, I kind of wanted to be that kickass chick on the wolf bike, red cloak streaming behind me as I raced towards a tattooed and evil-looking dude. Imagine me as a crime-fighting babe.
I probably should have been worried all these random strangers thought that I’d killed not only Sawyer but also the cop and some other dude wanted on rape charges. At the same time, and to my intense disbelief, they applauded my actions. They saw me as a vigilante out to make the world a better place. It appeared that those who’d died had left behind more enemies than friends.
And I had a fan club. One I would never encourage. I’d seen how quickly a wave of support could turn. How easy it would be for them to suddenly transform me into the villain of this piece. The news did it all the time, taking the victim and painting them as the aggressor while the real criminal walked on a technicality.
Fear of being recognized led to me being hesitant about going out on the bike. I should lay low. Tell that to the wild energy coursing through my veins that had me pacing my living room.
I have to get out.I’d go stir crazy otherwise.
If I ran errands in my car, no one would ever connect me to the Red Hood or the Steel Wolf. My nice, dependable vehicle would be a better choice for picking up supplies to start work on my next wreck.
Rather than being responsible, and without conscious knowledge of how it’d happened, I found myself riding the Steel Wolf, laughing at the wind buffeting my bare cheeks.
I pulled over instantly and jumped off the bike.
How had I gotten here?
I blinked at the road, Highway 7. Almost home. No helmet on my head, but during this blackout, I’d apparently invested in better goggles. I pulled them off to admire the tinted glass and the cool, steampunk style. The padding around the eyepieces and strap meant they fit much more snugly and comfortably. I vaguely remembered trying them on and making faces in a mirror.
After the glasses I went looking for…
The blank spot faded as I recalled the latter part of my afternoon. The leather store, which explained my new jacket. The dark crimson of it smooth to the touch.
My gaze went to the package strapped to the tank. I remembered what was in that folded bag.
My cheeks heated.
What was I thinking when I’d bought that leather outfit? Impractical, overpriced, and totally not me. Yet I’d slapped it on the counter and paid too much. The thing was fucking hot, and I wanted to feel sexy. The question being, would I have the guts to model it? And if I did, who would I show it to?
Calmed, I got back on my bike and finished my ride home, letting her rip and reveling in the power between my legs. My happiness soured at the sight of Brayden leaning against his car in my driveway, face bearing a deep scowl. My bike hummed to a stop, and my booted foot engaged the stand as I swung off.
“Where have you been?” Brayden demanded as if I owed him answers.
“Out.” I removed the new tinted goggles before pulling off my scrunchie and shaking out my hair.
“You should wear a helmet.”
I didn’t appreciate his tone. “I think I might just pay the ticket for riding without one and live on the wild side.”
“A wild side that will end the first time you pitch headfirst over those handlebars and smash your head.”
A good point. Maybe I’d wear a beanie style so I could keep the glasses. “I don’t need you telling me what to do.”
“Apparently, you do. How could you be so stupid?” Brayden didn’t try to make up with me, he went on a rant. “You went out in public onthatbike after what happened last night? Are you trying to get caught?”
“No one recognized me,” I muttered as I unstrapped the packages on the back, a splurge that I doubted the detective would appreciate. I hugged the bundle to my chest as I headed for the house.
“Allie…” His tone cajoled, but I snapped.
“Don’tAllieme. Last time you were here, you called me a murderer.” And, apparently, he’d not returned to apologize.
“I said if you were, I’d help you conceal the fact, given you had reason.”
“That’s not any better.” I rolled my eyes.
“It’s the best I can do given the mounting evidence against you.”
“What evidence? People saw someone talking to Sawyer. That’s it. I left him alive.”
