Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 64979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
From the first time I saw a bright yellow Ducati speed past our chauffeured SUV with an orange Kawasaki Ninja racing behind it, I was a goner. It was the most vivid memory from my childhood. For several seconds, bike after bike raced by our vehicle at lightning speed.
The sounds of the engines roaring through the air made my heart pound against my chest. The adrenaline was like nothing I’d ever felt before, and I wanted that feeling to go on and never end. Even at the age of five, I knew I’d stop at nothing to learn everything I could about motorcycles.
After the street bikes were out of sight, my father called the sheriff who, of course, was my family’s personal friend. With a stern tone I’d only ever heard him use in his office, he bit, “The bikers are up to their takeovers again.”
You see, those street bike races were illegal in our town, and despite the persuasive efforts of the community, it didn’t stop the bikers from their illegal race wars. Through the years, they became like thieves in the night, doing their takeovers when the towns were sleeping, but again, it didn’t stop the incessant chatter and gossip about them.
Rumors began that the bikers were becoming younger and younger in age. Which was yet another reason why my family refused my ongoing and persistent request of attending a co-ed private school like my brothers and cousins had.
Finally, luck was on my side when a scandal broke out in my all-girls academy. At seventeen, Macy May got pregnant, and it was the talk of the town. My parents yanked me out of school so fast it made my head spin.
I was allowed to be enrolled into a co-ed private academy like I’d always wanted. However, it wasn’t just any co-ed private school. It was the best because I was a Montgomery and nothing else was acceptable. It was the same school my brothers and cousins had attended. Everything about the academy was decadence. The best staff, the toughest curriculum, gourmet food, and they even had the best sports teams in every division.
My family was basically their biggest donor other than the Hawkins.
If there was something else my family was known for, it was the generational rivalry with the Hawkins family that started decades before I was born. They despised each other, and it seemed to only be getting worse as the years went on. At this point, I was surprised the academy wasn’t named after one of our families.
They were wealthy.
Envied.
Powerful to say the least.
Regardless of what my family believed, though, I wasn’t naïve. I could take care of myself, but that wasn’t going to stop them from trying to protect me at all costs.
Full Throttle: You still there?
I shook away the thoughts and replied.
Rebel Rider: How do you know I’m nervous?
While I waited for his response, I finished brushing the soft curls of my long, wavy blonde hair. People were always telling me that I reminded them of a porcelain doll with my big, bright blue eyes and naturally long black lashes that only accentuated my high cheekbones and pouty mouth. I was curvy yet petite, owning more dresses than I knew what to do with.
Full Throttle: I might have learned a thing or two about you in the last year.
I smiled.
Rebel Rider: Just a thing or two?
Full Throttle: Wouldn’t you like to know…
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. This was what I enjoyed about our banter the most. Boys steered clear of me. If my brothers weren’t intimidating enough, then my last name made up for it. I was sixteen and had no experience with talking to boys, let alone flirting with one.
With him, it was easy. Our conversations were effortless as if we’d known one another our entire lives. However, Full Throttle didn’t know who I was, and I loved that fact more than anything. The feelings he evoked always triggered somersaults in my belly that I’d never felt before.
I liked him.
A lot.
We didn’t know much about each other, but the things we did know made me want to learn more about him. Since he lived on the other side of the world, it was easy to confide in him about how sheltered I was and how much I hated it. We might have bonded over our passion for bikes, but now it was much more than that. I genuinely wanted to know everything about him, and the feeling seemed mutual.
What I did know about Full Throttle was that he was my age and he actually owned a street bike. A black matte Ducati 900cc Supersport Twin. My favorite. After a month of chatting in the open forum with the other biker fans, one night we were discussing our favorite motorcycles, and I shared what mine was.