Chapter 493

Rosalind stared at the sleek motorcycle, her eyes wide with fascination.

Everett misinterpreted her hesitation. "It's the fastest way. No traffic jams to slow us down."

A mischievous grin spread across Rosalind's face. "This is incredible! I've always wanted to ride one."

He'd assumed a privileged girl like Rosalind would turn up her nose at motorcycles. Clearly, he'd underestimated her.

Snapping his helmet into place, he gestured impatiently. "Get on. Now."

Rosalind secured her helmet with quick fingers. Every second counted if they were going to save Harrison.

"Ready?" Everett's voice was clipped.

She nodded. In one fluid motion, Everett swung his muscular frame onto the bike, shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it to her. "Put this on. Wind chill's brutal."

Her heart fluttered as she caught the still-warm jacket. The scent of his cologne clung to the fabric as she slipped it on and climbed behind him.

The engine roared to life beneath them, vibrating through her body as they shot forward.

Clutching Everett's waist, Rosalind pressed herself against his broad back like a limpet. The unfamiliar sensation of speed made her grip tighten.

"How did you know which hospital?" she shouted over the wind, her lips nearly brushing his ear.

"Recognized the club's make," Everett called back. "Santorin craftsmanship. Whoever hired these thugs has deep pockets. Of Willowbrook's three underground hospitals, this one's the most high-end."

Rosalind's admiration swelled. The man missed nothing.

"You're brilliant," she breathed, nestling closer.

Everett felt her soft curves mold against him and stiffened. He inched forward on the seat, creating precious millimeters of space.

But Rosalind simply closed the gap, arms locking around him like steel bands. "Don't move," she pleaded. "I feel safer like this."

He froze, jaw clenched.

Their motorcycle became a streak of black through Willowbrook's neon-lit streets, turning heads at every intersection.

When they screeched to a halt outside the unmarked hospital, Everett dismounted in one smooth motion. "Let's move."

Rosalind fumbled with her helmet strap. The bike's height made dismounting awkward. She stretched her arms toward him. "Help me down!"

Everett's hands closed around her waist, lifting her effortlessly. The brief contact sent electricity up his arms. "Hurry," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

"I'm right behind you," Rosalind promised, her small hand slipping into his.

Everett stiffened at the unexpected contact but didn't pull away when her fingers interlaced with his. There was no time to argue.

Outside the operating room, four hulking men in black suits stood guard. Their heads snapped up in unison.

"Identify yourselves," the largest one growled.

Rosalind's grip on Everett's hand tightened. "We've found them! Harrison must be in there."

One guard smirked. "Walk away now, and you might live to see tomorrow."