Escaping My Arranged Marriage With My Biker Student
Big King’s words must’ve pushed him back into some place from his childhood, someplace where the darkness swallowed him whole.
“We’ll meet you there,” Doc shouts, and the sound of the other bikes fades as they disappear down the road, leaving just the two of us in the strange quiet.
“Put your helmet on so we can go,” Joker says, his voice too calm, too flat. His words don’t carry that usual spark, that manic energy I’ve grown used to.