“I don’t know,” she mutters. “I don’t know.” A soft voice echoes in the background, but I can’t make out the words. “I think he’s following me.”
“Who’s following you?”
“A man…”
“Listen to me, sweetheart. Take a deep breath and tell me exactly where you are.” She rattles something off, but between the roaring of the motorcycle race behind me, and the street noise on her end, I can’t hear a damn thing. “I’m gonna need you to say that again.”
“I’m close to the bar!” she yells. “My bar.”
“Can you get inside and lock the doors?”
“No, I don’t have the keys. I don’t know what to do, TK. I can’t go home, ’cause then he’ll know where I live.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Think, asshole.My bike’s at least a ten-minute walk away on the other side of the track, less if I run, but that few minutes isn’t going to help either of us.
“I’m not far away, but it’s going to take me too long to get to you. Do you know where Full Throttle’s race track is?”
“Yes,” she replies quickly.
“Good, sweetheart. I want you to get here as fast as you can. Speed if you have to, and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
Her voice sounds even shakier when she replies, “Okay.”
“I’m not hanging up, Cora. I’ll stay with you the entire way. Just keep talking and drive straight to me.”
I mute the line.
“Get the guys,” I order. “Now! Have them meet me at the entrance.”
“On it.” V grabs Priest and they take off running toward the track.
Making my way to the parking lot, I take my phone off mute and place it back to my ear. “Tell me where you’re at now.” She says a street name, and I pretend to know where it’s at. I don’t know Sturgis like she does, but if I tell her that, she’ll only panic more. I have to keep her calm.
“Is he still behind you?”
“Yes.”
I pick up the pace, skidding around the corner of a concession stand near the bleachers just inside the track, and the parking lot comes into view.
“Do you see the track entrance yet?”
“I think so… Yes! Yes, I see it.”
“Come straight up to the ticket booth. Don’t stop for anything until you see me. My club and I will be there waiting.”
I reach the booth a minute later, the brothers already coming up behind me.
“What the fuck’s goin’ on?” Judge asks me.
“Cora. Someone’s following her car. I told her to come here.”
Judge’s nostrils flare, and the guys go on alert. StoneFace cracks his knuckles, likely excited at the idea of crushing some heads.
“I just pulled into the parking lot,” she informs me. I look toward the entrance as a cloud of dust from the dirt road plumes into the air. A small sedan is barreling toward us, with a motorcycle hot on its tail.
“I see you. Keep coming, you’re almost here.”
I wave my arms as she approaches, and her wild eyes lock onto mine as she brings her car to a skidding halt, just to the left of us. She isn’t even fully stopped when I run to her driver’s side door and yank it open. Her hands tremble as she attempts to unbuckle her seatbelt.