Page 39 of Ghost Hunted

“I don’t think so, no.” She hesitates for a beat. “I think they were after us before then.” She frowns. “Yes, now that I say it, I’m pretty sure of it. I think they were hunting him. I heard papa say they’re trying to collect a debt. He owed them for something. I don’t know more than that.”

“Great,” grumbles Piper. “First the mafia, then this. Just how many assholes are after us?”

“Don’t worry, cricket,” murmurs Quill, stroking her back. “I’ll kill them all.”

She rolls her eyes, but I can tell he’s serious.

“Alright.” Quill places a leather satchel containing a few rockets he recovered from the bikers at his feet, then shoulders the massive bazooka, latching onto Piper with his other hand. “As much as I’m enjoying this, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“And how the hell are you going to hold that thing if you’re holding onto my daughter too?” I growl.

“There’s more than one way to hold onto your daughter,” he smirks, pushing her over the front of the seat of the bike so she’s lying across it. “Just like there’s more than one way to hold a bazooka.”

“Quill!” gasps Piper.

For someone who’s spent the past hour warning us about bikers hunting for us, he sure looks unaffected about the whole situation. But I can remember being his age once. Feeling invincible.

“Where to?” he questions, revving up his bike.

“Well, away from them, first…” I begin.

“Yeah.

“And then, to Belfast.”

“Oh, nice!” squeaks Piper, as he lays a leg over her to pin her into place. “I’ve always wanted to visit Belfast. Can we go sightseeing?”

“We can get into a plane, that’s what we can,” I tell her. “Everest is sending us one, and I’m getting you the hell out of here.”

“Oh, come on… just a few days,” pleads Piper. “I want to climb up Cave Hill.”

Quill shakes his head, laughing silently, then drives back onto the road, steering with one hand while the other one holds the bazooka steady.

I grab the other bike and sit Lia between my thighs. She twists around, her arms wrapping tightly around my middle, as I turn on the engine and join Quill on the road.

Soon, we’re driving fast, and I almost forget about the danger behind us as the wind whips my hair and the girl I thought I’d lost nestles against me.

My head aches and so does my arm, but that can’t be much worse than a flesh wound, because I can bend it. I let go of the handlebar to crush Lia to me.

I feel young again. In love. Invincible, just like Quill. Everything’s possible now that Lia’s back where she belongs, in my arms.

But suddenly, Lia lets out a shrill scream.

A moment later, gunfire erupts behind me. I squeeze her harder, trying to shield her from it.

But it’s getting closer, while the dust kicked up by the bikes reaches me and makes my eyes water.

“Duck!” yells Quill, his bike screeching to a halt. Moments later, an explosion makes me nearly drive off the road and into the steep ravine.

“Goddammit! Fuck!”

The idiot just fired his fucking bazooka.

I frantically steer back onto the road, but I overcorrect, and the bike topples over. I let out a string of curse words, somehow managing to hold Lia to one side so that when the bike crashes, I’m the only one who touches the ground.

Fucking hell, it hurts. My body feels like it’s been scalded. The skin all along my right side must have gotten ripped right off. I lie on the dusty ground, stunned from the sudden fall.

“Logan! Logan!”