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Authors: Kathryn Thomas
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way around it, she mused. She liked him.
Miles away, Sam gritted his teeth as he rushed onward to the location where he was supposed to be for a very important business transaction with the rest of The Devil's Sons. He was glad that he had been able to wrap up things with Afia in time to get back. He had left in a rush from the biker bar, and he trusted, as he'd told Kaleidoscope, that Q-ball could handle things. However, it was better if the leader of the gang was present. When money, like the amount involved, changed hands, Sam liked to be the one making the drop.
As he cruised away, he shook his head. He could tell Afia wasn't about to let him ride out of her life any more than he wanted to ride of it, but was that wise? There were things the motorcycle club ringleader was into that could shatter her innocent world. It was up to Sam, however, to make sure that no matter what happened between them, she didn't suffer the consequences for his alternative lifestyle.
CHAPTER 6
Afia cradled the cellphone, speaking softly deep into the night for the third night in a row. Not even early classes could keep her from talking to Sam. It was amazing how she had gone from trying to avoid him to surrendering to her desire to communicate with him. Afia struggled to fit him into her busy schedule, and he made room for her, despite his demanding job and what he called his hobby bike club. She giggled and glanced at the clock again.
"Well, time isn't on my side," she murmured sleepily.
"Did you get that homework done, at least? I'd hate to keep you from something that important."
"I happen to be a master multitasker," she replied, giggling. "I finished that hours ago. If I don't get some sleep, though, I won't make it to my first class."
"What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Mmm, I have to go to worship service tomorrow. Friday is a sacred day for Muslims." She reluctantly added, "Plus, my mother set up a dinner date for me with a friend of the family."
"Should I be jealous?" he asked jokingly. She didn't answer. He whistled. "Alright, then. Can I see you Saturday morning? Weather's supposed to be nice out. I want to take you on a ride."
Saturday morning, Afia got up early and got dressed for Sam, who arrived exactly on time. Bionca waved her out of the apartment with a playful warning to "be good," and Afia shushed the voice in the back of her head that whispered she was already breaking the rules.
He took her an hour's ride out of the city, letting her get the feel of the bike. Gone was the well-dressed businessman. When he took her out, he was the biker of her fantasies, and she was falling in love with traveling by motorcycle. There was nothing like it. The couple pulled off on what looked like a forgotten stretch of road flanked on each side by flat, dusty desert as far as the eyes could see. The dome of the sky was a rich, saturated blue. Afia shaded her face and peered at the hazy mountains in the distance, white sun beaming down hotly. She was thankful for her protective headwear.
The bike was parked on the side of the road, and Sam ambled over to her with the keys. "Want to learn how to ride this thing?"
"What? You're joking, right?"
"Nope." His eyes danced mischievously, and he smiled, daring her to do it. Afia reached for the keys, against her better judgment. He pumped his fist in the air and led her back to the bike, showing her what to touch and how to operate the thing. For good measure, Sam hopped on behind her to help her out, but he let her stay in control.
At first, she burst forward in leaps and sputters; she was too heavy-handed and too tentative with the accelerator. With his calm voice giving her instructions, however, Afia gradually grew more comfortable at the helm. She managed to drive a few passes a mile up and down the black road. Laughing and breathless with pride at what she had accomplished, she finally tried to park the bike. In her
Miles away, Sam gritted his teeth as he rushed onward to the location where he was supposed to be for a very important business transaction with the rest of The Devil's Sons. He was glad that he had been able to wrap up things with Afia in time to get back. He had left in a rush from the biker bar, and he trusted, as he'd told Kaleidoscope, that Q-ball could handle things. However, it was better if the leader of the gang was present. When money, like the amount involved, changed hands, Sam liked to be the one making the drop.
As he cruised away, he shook his head. He could tell Afia wasn't about to let him ride out of her life any more than he wanted to ride of it, but was that wise? There were things the motorcycle club ringleader was into that could shatter her innocent world. It was up to Sam, however, to make sure that no matter what happened between them, she didn't suffer the consequences for his alternative lifestyle.
CHAPTER 6
Afia cradled the cellphone, speaking softly deep into the night for the third night in a row. Not even early classes could keep her from talking to Sam. It was amazing how she had gone from trying to avoid him to surrendering to her desire to communicate with him. Afia struggled to fit him into her busy schedule, and he made room for her, despite his demanding job and what he called his hobby bike club. She giggled and glanced at the clock again.
"Well, time isn't on my side," she murmured sleepily.
"Did you get that homework done, at least? I'd hate to keep you from something that important."
"I happen to be a master multitasker," she replied, giggling. "I finished that hours ago. If I don't get some sleep, though, I won't make it to my first class."
"What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Mmm, I have to go to worship service tomorrow. Friday is a sacred day for Muslims." She reluctantly added, "Plus, my mother set up a dinner date for me with a friend of the family."
"Should I be jealous?" he asked jokingly. She didn't answer. He whistled. "Alright, then. Can I see you Saturday morning? Weather's supposed to be nice out. I want to take you on a ride."
Saturday morning, Afia got up early and got dressed for Sam, who arrived exactly on time. Bionca waved her out of the apartment with a playful warning to "be good," and Afia shushed the voice in the back of her head that whispered she was already breaking the rules.
He took her an hour's ride out of the city, letting her get the feel of the bike. Gone was the well-dressed businessman. When he took her out, he was the biker of her fantasies, and she was falling in love with traveling by motorcycle. There was nothing like it. The couple pulled off on what looked like a forgotten stretch of road flanked on each side by flat, dusty desert as far as the eyes could see. The dome of the sky was a rich, saturated blue. Afia shaded her face and peered at the hazy mountains in the distance, white sun beaming down hotly. She was thankful for her protective headwear.
The bike was parked on the side of the road, and Sam ambled over to her with the keys. "Want to learn how to ride this thing?"
"What? You're joking, right?"
"Nope." His eyes danced mischievously, and he smiled, daring her to do it. Afia reached for the keys, against her better judgment. He pumped his fist in the air and led her back to the bike, showing her what to touch and how to operate the thing. For good measure, Sam hopped on behind her to help her out, but he let her stay in control.
At first, she burst forward in leaps and sputters; she was too heavy-handed and too tentative with the accelerator. With his calm voice giving her instructions, however, Afia gradually grew more comfortable at the helm. She managed to drive a few passes a mile up and down the black road. Laughing and breathless with pride at what she had accomplished, she finally tried to park the bike. In her
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