Chapter 13: Left Behind

Ronan's POV

I stood in the cabin doorway until her taillight was gone.

She had told me she would not be claimed, and I had given her my word on that.

Following her would not be a claim.

It would be a thing I did, and she could hate me for it afterward.

I told myself that for the length of one breath, and then I pulled my jacket off the floor.

Far down the dirt road, two engines gunned at once.

Nothing that rode with her would make that sound.

I was on the Road King before the cabin door finished swinging.

I had seen my sister's chain around her neck for a year, and I had looked away every day.

That was done now, and the only way to pay for it was to reach her.

I leaned low over the tank and let the speedometer climb past ninety.

Wind tore at my jacket, and every mile marker went by like a slap.

I opened the throttle and the dark road came at me.

The highway was empty for twelve miles.

Then my headlight caught a shape on the gravel shoulder, and I stood on the brakes.

It was her Sportster, on its side, with the handlebar bent and one mirror torn off.

There was no saddlebag.

There was no Roz.

I put the Road King down and ran to it.

Two long skid marks went across the lane, and a wide patch of glass sparkled where somebody had parked a vehicle with its hazards on.

I knelt and put my hand on the bike's engine.

It was cold.

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