Flame (Ruin Outlaws MC #4) by Amy Isan Page A

just big enough that I'm sure we could squeeze through it. I look at Cassie and she's staring at the gate too. She wants me to run it.
    "This can't be good, Logan," she says. "No one who checks with their supervisor comes back with good news." I stare at the gate and feel as if I'm frozen. What can I do? What should I do?
    Samantha comes back and smiles at us. "We need to talk to the woman. Alone." She shoots a smile at Cassie, and I shake my head.
    I stare at her, bewildered. "What about?"
    "Just some personal documentation questions."
    "I don't think so," I say, growing defensive. My hair feels electrified and I take a deep breath. I grab Cassie's wrist to keep her from moving. Samantha sighs and waves past the window to someone behind us. I look over my shoulder and an armed guard is coming toward us. He raises his rifle and points it at me. I stiffen, my grip still on Cassie's wrist. "Don't."
    The guard approaches and lets go of his gun to reach out for Cassie. "Don't," I repeat. I stare forward and open the throttle all the way. It makes the engine scream loud enough that it stuns Samantha and the guard. Samantha ducks down behind the desk and an alarm starts to blare overhead. Keeping the throttle open at full speed, I pull Cassie's wrist around my waist and tell her to hold on tight. I don't even know if she can hear me over the screaming of the engine.
    Cassie squeezes me hard and I slam the bike into gear. The front tire lifts into the air and we fly forward, slipping past the gate. The front tire slams back down and shakes me out of my daze. I knock the bike into the next gear and soar off into the desert. Bullets whiz past us, and I clench my jaw so tight I can feel my teeth cracking. The road is covered in a layer of dust, and the speed we're moving the wind feels like razors against my face. The sound of whizzing rounds stops after some time, and the alarm at the border is replaced by the sounds of sirens behind us. US Border Patrol.
    I can't open the throttle anymore than I already have, so I lower a gear and lift the bike off the ground again as it settles into itself. We're moving at well over a hundred and thirty miles an hour, and at this point I'm putting more trust into the bike than my own riding skills. That's the nature of the beast.
    Two sets of sirens follow us. The lights from the suburbans flash onto my face from the motorcycle's mirrors and I can only glance at them briefly. They're not gaining on us, but they're also not slowing down. Cassie's grip on me is so tight I can hardly breathe. I duck my head down and she follows me, her chin digging into my spine.
    The motorcycle rattles and feels like it's going to fall apart if I don't slow down on this shitty road. I have no choice. The agents are relentless. I feel the heat of bullets buzz past us again, smoking and embedding themselves in the hills just beyond the bend in front of us. I twist around the corner and duck the bike down, making the saddlebags graze the ground.
    The motorcycle and wind are too loud to make anything out. I can feel Cassie's heart beat against my back though, and it's pounding harder than mine. I spot a small turn out ahead on the road, and realize that the agents haven't rounded the swerving corner just yet. I try and shout above the noise. "Hold on!"
    I dip the bike into the turn off and the tires break loose. It slides for a couple of feet and I manage to correct it and save it from throwing us both off. I right the machine up and blaze down the trail, slowly lowering my speed and gears until the machine carrying us isn't howling anymore. I swerve it again behind some sage and shut it off. I push Cassie off the bike and knock the bike onto the ground, hopefully hiding it from view. I fall to my knees and elbows and stare down the trail, hoping the smoke and dust dissipates or that the plumes are too hard to spot in the thickening darkness.
    The two white suburbans, with sirens wailing and high-beams stretching across