UNMASKED

Aqua’s POV.

“Do you prefer to be killed by your father then?”

The words knocked the air out of my lungs.

“What?” I gaped, unable to believe my ears, but there was no time for him to explain.

Gunshots flew towards us, and he yanked me towards the bike with staggering strength. 

I almost tripped on my feet, but he reached out to steady me, his hands circling my waist. 

I held his gaze for a moment, when I couldn’t see his eyes through the helmet.

“We have to leave.” His voice snapped me back to reality. I blinked as he shoved a helmet into my hands, hoisting me onto the bike. 

I glanced back as the shouts behind us grew louder, but his words rang in my head like a siren.

Would my father really have me assassinated? 

“Hold on,” Just then, the engine of his bike roared to life, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around his waist, my cheeks involuntarily burning red. 

The bike zipped through the alley, and my grip on him tightened, overwhelmed by the speed.

The city blurred into streaks of light and shallow, and I couldn’t help the buzz of excitement that coursed through my veins.

It was exhilarating. 

The way the wind tore at my hair, and how the biker skillfully evaded every obstacle in his path.

It was like how I felt when I watched him race, but this time I was part of the game. But most of all, I felt safe. 

His back flexed with sharp turns, and I felt every muscle against my chest.

He didn’t hesitate once, and I couldn’t help but wonder how someone could be so fearless. 

I pressed my face into his back, my heart fluttering as a million and one questions roamed through my mind. 

Just who was this man? 

Why was he helping me? 

And why does his presence feel like something I had lost… and found again?

*****

After fifteen minutes, we arrived at an abandoned warehouse. 

The bike skidded to a stop by the building, and as he killed the engine, the sudden silence that followed was suffocating. 

My legs suddenly felt like jello, and he had to help me get off the bike, bracing his hands on my waist again.

I tried not to act affected, clearing my throat as my feet hit the ground. Then I took off my helmet, combing my fingers through it to loosen the knots. 

My gaze bounced around the compound, seeing that no one was around but us. 

“Don’t tell me you’re a serial killer?” The words slipped past my lips before I could stop them. 

He swung his leg off the bike, leaning against it. “Would a serial killer take a bullet for you?”

My eyes widened in realization. Shit. That’s right. 

“Are…are you okay?” I hated myself for stuttering, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve been through worse.” He mused. 

But I was skeptical.

“Take off your jacket,” I told him, keeping my voice steady.

I would like to imagine he arched a brow behind that helmet of his, because he didn’t move.

“You’re worrying about your serial killer now?” His tone was playful, so much so that it made me blush.

But this wasn’t the time to blush.

“Where are we?” I asked, turning away from him. 

“It’s where the Biker Dragons keep our supplies.” He straightened up, pushing the front doors open. “You’re safe here. For now.” 

For now. The words settled in my chest. 

“So this is your base,” I noted as I stepped inside, my lips parting in awe. 

The warehouse was dim, lit only by a few hanging bulbs, but what stunned me were the bikes—the beautiful yet deadly machines that rested in neat rows. 

Tools lined one wall, along with some spare parts. 

From how the warehouse looked from the outside, no one would ever suspect it was the base of the renowned Biker Dragons. 

Normally, locations like these were closed off to nonmembers of the gang, but he brought me here despite that. 

“Hey,” I called out to him, wringing my hands together.

“Yeah?” He faced me, hands tucked in his pockets, helmet still on. 

I hesitated a bit, my throat tightening as the weight of the truth pressed down on me. 

“What you said about my father……” I swallowed hard, my voice lowering to a whisper. “Is it true?” 

I waited with bated breath, but all I got in return was silence. 

“Aren’t you going to answer me?” I demanded, my hands balling into fists.

He still said nothing. 

“Wow.” I scoffed, irritation biting into my tone. “If you don’t have the balls to say the truth then why mention it in the first place!”

I really didn’t mean to raise my voice, but with everything that has happened in the last few months, I was at my limit.

So a crash-out was inevitable.

“And also.” I took a step closer. He didn’t back away. “Can you take off your helmet already? Let me see who I’m dealing with at least.” 

“I understand that you’re frustrated,” he finally said. 

“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t think you understand anything. Because if you did, you’ll tell me what the fuck is going on!” 

My eyes burned with tears as I looked up at him, my emotions spilling out of the tight sealed bottle I shoved them in. 

“Just please…” I slumped against him, my head resting on his chest. I felt him stiffen, heard his heartbeat race. “I just need to know the truth….”

Because I had learnt in the cruelest way possible, that the life I lived was a lie. 

A cold brutal lie.

“Hey,” his voice softened, soothing my ears like a hush lullaby. “Don’t cry….”

Soon I felt his hands hover around me, unsure of what to do, then they settled on my shoulders. 

It felt so good, so good I was starting to feel comfort in his touch, repeating the vicious cycle. 

How would I know if he was any different?

“Stop.” I pushed back at his chest, “Don’t talk to me like that.” 

“Like what?” He sounded genuinely confused. 

How could I tell him he made my heart flutter for some reason? 

How could I say that his presence made me feel whole? Like a missing piece in the puzzle called my life? 

How could I say I felt comfort in his arms, wanting to melt in his touch and forget about everything else? 

At that moment, something violent surged within, and even my wolf came alive. 

Before I could stop myself, I reached out.

My fingers closed around the edge of his helmet, yanking it off his head. 

He froze. 

So did I.

My eyes rounded in shock, the color draining from my face.

The helmet slipped from my grasp, and the sound of it hitting the ground echoed between us. 

Dark hair fell across bright green eyes. Eyes I had once traced in my notebook, even when I knew it could never replace the pull. 

A face that had once held boyish innocence, was now hardened by adulthood, but in my heart and mind, it was the same. 

“No…” I let out a shaky breath, staggering back as if hit, “No no no…” 

His jaw clenched, head lowered in shame, or was it guilt? Maybe regret. 

“Aqua…” he said my name, ever so gently, just like he always did. 

The tears I desperately tried to hold back poured down my cheeks. 

“Ryan?” My voice cracked on the name. 

The name of my first love.