Page 133 of Dock

Knowing that he’s communicating with Dive, giving him all the information he needs, is what offers me my first breath of reprieve.

This shit is fucking hard.

Especially when you’re used to riding as a fam.

A fucking unit.

Even though I know I’m not actually alone, I fucking hate pretending that I am.

That little inkling that reminds me how life once was.

How it could be if I hadn’t become a Misfit.

How it may be if I lose the woman I love.

Shit.

Is a couple weeks too early into shit to be in love?

They abruptly take an exit – likely to see if we’re being followed – leaving me to scratch my leg, a casual hand signal for Tags not to follow.

Now that Dive can track their GPS navigation through their vehicle all that’s left is to guarantee backup can silently and tactfully get into position before shit really pops off.

Which Flames has a rather brilliant plan for.

And that’s not a word I would usually associate with someone who’d rather burn random herbs –not always in a fireproof dish – for smells than candles.

We circle around some random right off the highway neighborhood.

An apartment complex a few blocks down.

Pitstop at a corner gas station – where he has the balls to go inside to get something to drink, leaving his partner to inspect our situation for proof we’re not being tailed or tracked.

I do the same.

Aware of the unsuspecting lookouts around to aid in covering up my club’s pending arrival.

Eventually, we shift onto another highway and head towards what I’m assuming is our actual destination.

This goes by much faster.

Lets me concentrate more on keeping up and staying in control rather than how the hot air on my face seems to burn and my bike feels as though it’s shouting.

Barking orders about rescuing our woman.

Like it misses her too.

Like I’m not fucking working on it fast enough.

Post getting off the freeway, we fly through a couple intersections – one that gets me honked at for nearly causing a collision – and take a light to the right that has us aimed straight for what appears to be a university.

Except I know that it isn’t.

That’s on the opposite side of town.

Near where I was taking my class.

Upon getting a bit closer a giant sign reading Newt Newton Academy comes into focus along with an iron rod security gate.