When The Bad Boy Hates You

Chapter 10

The biker on the floor had crawled over to his gun and aimed the bullets right at us, then he pulled the trigger with the intent of administering death. The first shot doesn't hit us, but more bullets are fired as the bikes friends hear commotion outside their bar and start rushing out the doors to investigate.

"Shit, let's go!" Blake screams as he jumps onto the bike. Explosions bellow out from behind us as shots are fired through the night and I scramble onto the bike behind Blake with barely functioning limbs. I secure my hands around Blake's waist like an iron lock and tuck my head into Blake's back as if to hide from the gun shots. My muscles were cramped up in preparation to being implanted with a bullet. 

Blake revs the engine and we whiz off at a speed that should have killed us, the wind whips my hair behind me from the sudden acceleration. The bike's wheels spin and slide in the water on the road as it tries to grip onto the slippery surface below, but our poor control helped us evade the gun shots as they fired at us from behind. I felt a rush of wind whip past my face and then a stab of pain on my cheek as a bullet passes not millimeters away from my face, cutting a small sliver of my skin. After a few too long seconds we skid around the corner as we finally move out of the firing line and I relax into Blake's form as I realise I wasn't hit. 

Panic caused my hands to grab onto Blake and I was squeezing him so hard I was surprised if he was able to breathe in any oxygen. But he doesn't complain and continues to drive like a manic until we were out of the town limits and in the middle of the surrounding woods. Only when he was sure we were alone does he decrease the acceleration on the engine. The rain was now bucketing down and Blake and I were nearly glued together. We gradually roll to a stop and Blake switches the engine off. I tried to move off the bike and away from Blake, but my hands refused to move, I was still in shock. 

Blake looks back at me from over his shoulder to see that I was in no fit state to move myself, so he gently pries my hands from around his waist. I stumble off the bike and use the stump of a tree to steady my feet as I take deep calming breaths. Blake stabilises the bike and hesitantly walk over towards me.

"Are you okay?" He asks gingerly reaching a hand out towards me but stops just short of touching me, letting it drop to his side.

"I am fine," I breathe, surprised that my voice actually works. I shake my arms and legs out to realise that I was having difficulty moving them. "Well actually I think my limbs are in a permanent state of paralysis and I wouldn't be surprised if I have peripheral neuropathy." My voice was gradually becoming filled with panic and taking a louder tone. "What the hell just happened?" I am now yelling as the hysteria finally takes hold.

"Rose," Blake gently spoke, and I was able to tune out the panicked thoughts whirling through my mind to completely listen to him. "You need to leave now," he commanded. 

My mind didn't comprehend what he was saying until I actually looked around to where he had taken me to realise that this was the trail that lead to my street. I was only a five-minute walk away from home. When my wide eyes glanced back to Blake I finally grasped what state he was in, blood was dripping down from a gaping gash in his forehead from when he was thrown to the floor and his white t-shirt had now turned red from the emerging blood from underneath where he must have been shot.

"You are shot," I panicked, reaching towards his chest and shoulders where the blood was pooling. But Blake flinched away from me violently and placed his hands out in front of him to keep me away.

"I am fine, he just hit my arm," he tried to assure me, but I wasn't assured. He grasped his shirt and pulled it tighter around his wound as if he just realised it was there himself.

"Blake," I object in worry, he is not fine, and I wasn't going to stand around and just let him run off without properly treating it.

"Just go!" He snapped pointing towards the trail away from him and towards my home. The glare he set on me was something to rival that of Sarah's.