Page 30 of Unholy Oath

My daring fiancée wiggles back into her leathers and pulls on her cuts, then fetches a small assortment of items from the paniers on her bike.Then, like a modern dayMacGyverorJack Reacher,she sets to work.Her art?Destruction.She soaks half of a scrap of material in cheap vodka, then feeds it into the tank, leaving just enough dry fabric hanging out past the fuel cap to light.“Okay, beautiful,” she says, handing me the black lighter from her pocket.“The honor is all yours.”

I take the lighter and roll the barrel, igniting the flame.I watch it dance lightly in the breeze and take a step closer to the vehicle.

Bones secures her helmet and mounts her hog, revving the engine until it rumbles and purrs like a giant black kitten.Turning it around, she pulls up behind me.“Once the flame takes, get on and let’s burn rubber.This bastard is going to blow.”

Licking my lips, I nod and close the final distance between me and the car.“It’s over, Luka,” I say.“Burn in Hell.”I light the rag, waiting just a moment to make sure it takes properly.The flame bites hard, hungry for destruction—and I’m satisfied.With a bounce in my step, I fetch the spare helmet and pull it on.Throwing my leg over, I mount the Harley and wrap my arms around the most badass beauty in all of Florida.“Let’s go home,” I say over comms.“I believe a fisting was promised at one point?”I add cheekily, rubbing myself up against her suggestively.

“Oh, baby,” Bones says, her voice wickedly husky.“You’re insomuch trouble.”

I grin as we tear off through the forest, a trail of dirt kicking up in our wake.A minute later, aboomerupts from the darkness behind us in a percussive explosion that ripples through the trees.Glancing over my shoulder, I watch as a great, billowing plume of black smoke, visible even against the star-spangled heavens, marks the spot of Luka Floretti’s final resting place like an X on a map.I cheer over comms, raising my fist in triumph as we pull out onto the main road that’ll lead us back onto the I-95 and back home.

To think I so narrowly escaped being sex trafficked to the mafia chills me to my very core.It’s a sobering thought, but one that also steels my will.I made the right choice in leaving that asshole.I squeeze Bones more tightly and sigh as the hours of darkness slowly brighten.And as we blaze up the palm-lined strip leading toKraken Repairs, the sun rises over the ocean and the last shadows of my past melt away with its light.This is my new beginning and I’m going to embrace it with all my heart.

Soon, I won’t be Miss Sunny Butts anymore, thebuttof all jokes.I’ll be Mrs.Sunny D’Angelo, wife of the infamous Vice President of the Sons of Sin.As the morning sun soaks into my pale skin, I envision myself walking up a sandy aisle on the beach, the wind in my hair, my gauzy, white dress billowing, seashells lining the way...And at the end, standing beneath a floral arbor of rainbows, my gorgeous Latina bride awaits, a dark vision of feminine power wearing a deviant smile that promises me a lifetime of danger, joy, and pleasure I’llneverforget!

The End