Veiled Vendetta

The roar of the engines grew louder as the two bikers sped towards us. The rider carrying me, one of Rashad's men, reached for his gun. His eyes were focused, and his grip on the handlebars was steady.

"Hold on!" he yelled, his voice barely audible over the noise.

But before he could aim, a bullet whizzed through the air, hitting him in the head. His body went limp, and we tumbled off the bike. I felt myself falling and the world spinning around me. Then, with a splash, I landed in a gutter. Pain shot through my body as I felt my skin scrape against the rough concrete.

I was still reeling from the fall when I heard the sound of engines slowing down. The same bikers who had caused the crash were now circling back. They pulled off their helmets, revealing their faces. Their expressions were cold, and their eyes were devoid of any emotion.

"Are you okay?" one of them asked, his voice devoid of any concern. His gaze was fixed on me, his eyes cold and calculating.

I didn't respond. I couldn't. The pain was too much, and I could feel my consciousness slipping away. The last thing I remember was the sound of their laughter echoing in my ears as everything went black.

All of a sudden, I found myself seated in front of two men. One had white skin adorned with green tattoos, and the other had jet black hair. The white-skinned man was strikingly handsome, while the dark-haired one had an air of mystery about him. In the midst of them was another woman, her eyes darting nervously between me and the men.

I looked around, trying to make sense of my surroundings. "Where am I?" I asked, my voice shaky. "Are you guys part of the Purple Gangsters? Where's Rashad?"

As I was panting, the dark-haired man pulled down the bandana that was tied over his lips. Recognition hit me like a punch to the gut. It was him—the one who had offered to help me escape when Rashad's men were chasing me. The one I had refused ended up back in the hands of Rashad, my abusive boyfriend.

Now, here he was, right in front of me. I felt a strange sensation, a mix of fear and relief. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, everything else faded away. I was lost in his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest.

I shook off my daze, pulling my gaze away from the man with the jet black hair. He noticed my movement and reached out, his hand brushing against mine. The contact sent a jolt through me, but before I could react, the distant wail of sirens filled the air.

"No time for introductions," the dark-haired man said, his voice urgent. "I'm Kaz. I told you my name before."

With that, he hoisted me up and hurriedly led me to his bike. The white-skinned man, quick on his feet, grabbed a bike from a passerby and hopped on it. He gestured for the other woman to climb on behind him.

As the sirens grew louder, we sped off, leaving the scene before the police arrived. The city lights blurred past us once again, but this time, I kept my eyes open, watching as we disappeared into the night.

When we were far away from the police, I turned my head to see them, and the last thing I saw was the flashing red and blue lights in the distance, growing fainter with each passing second.

As we sped away from the city, I rested my head on the back of Kaz, the stranger who had saved me. The vibrations from the bike's engine hummed beneath me, a stark contrast to the chaos we had just escaped.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the roar of the engine. I wasn't sure if he heard me, but I felt him nod slightly in response.

I closed my eyes, letting the wind whip through my hair. I was so incredibly grateful that the police hadn't seen my face. I had a history with them, a not-too-pleasant one, and the last thing I needed was to get tangled up with them again.

As the city lights faded into the distance, I let out a sigh of relief. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe. I was no longer in Rashad's clutches, and I was free from the police. It was a strange feeling, but a welcome one.

"Where are we going?" I asked Kaz; my voice is stronger now. He didn't answer immediately, but I could tell he was thinking about it. I waited patiently, knowing that wherever we were going, it had to be better than where I had come from. And for now, that was enough.

The bike came to a sudden stop, jolting me out of my thoughts. We were in a rough part of town—the kind of place you wouldn't want to be caught in after dark. The buildings were run-down, and there was an eerie silence that hung in the air.

Kaz and the white-skinned man parked their bikes and started walking towards an uncompleted building. I hesitated, unsure if I should follow them into the unknown. But seeing no other option, I followed suit, my heart pounding in my chest.

As we approached the building, a man with dogs and a girl holding a big gun appeared. The girl had the gun rested on her shoulder, her posture signaling she was ready for a shootout. The sight of the man didn't sit well with Kaz and the white-skinned man. They both froze, their faces palling as if they had seen a ghost.

Then, breaking the silence, Kaz yelled, "You! Big Jim!" His voice echoed through the empty street, his name hanging in the air like a bad omen. I could only wonder who this Big Jim was, and what was going to happen next?