“Saint’s proper, man. This ain’t on you.”

Trax halted mid-step, staring on the parking zone. He swallowed the knot in his throat and bowed his head. “It was my journey.” He shook his head, feeling the burden of the guilt as if it have been a thousand bricks on his again. “It shoulda been me.”

“But it surely wasn’t,” Rourke stated, hovering over Trax. He rested his hand on his shoulder, tightening his grip in a comforting squeeze. “This isn’t on you,” he muttered, releasing his grasp after which making his method to his bike.

Trax adopted with out saying one other phrase.

Chapter Two

“Wait a minute, again up. You took it?” Macy’s eyes widened, and Cheyenne averted her gaze. This can be a fucking mess.

Cheyenne had spent the final thirty minutes rehashing the accident to her finest buddy, Macy. Saying it out loud and reliving it once more left her trembling by the point she stopped speaking. All of it occurred so quick. She’d been on autopilot when it was happening. Now, given time to truly have all of it replay in her head, she was rocked to the core. Seeing the automobile swerve proper into the bike as if it have been deliberate had her abdomen rolling in waves. Then watching the bike fly up into the air and over the embankment. Retelling the story had the identical impact as watching it firsthand. Nothing hit her as onerous as seeing the poor man sliding no less than thirty ft down the asphalt. All of the blood and his open wounds. Her abdomen churned. It was tragic.

Mick.

“Chey?” Macy snapped her fingers.

Cheyenne blinked twice and turned to Macy. “What?”

“You took the bundle?”

Cheyenne nodded, biting her backside lip. “Effectively, yeah.” She twisted her fingers and pulled up her knees to relaxation her chin. “I needed to.”

Macy’s eyes grew large, the scale of saucers. “What’s in it?”

Cheyenne shrugged and whispered, “I don’t know.”

“What do ya imply, you don’t know? You didn’t look?” Macy jumped up from the sofa. “The place is it? Let’s open it.”

After all, Macy’s mind would take her to entertain her curiosity. She wasn’t the one who had witnessed the horrific accident. A lot blood.

“Chey?”

She shook her head, attempting to rid her reminiscence of the picture.

“No, we aren’t opening something.” She licked her dry lips. “Look, they most likely took him to Glenview Common or Blacksburg Memorial. I’m going to go to each till I discover him and provides it again. I already tried calling, however until you might be household, they don’t give out any data.”

“I feel we must always look.”

“No,” she snapped. He’d been so adamant about her taking it, it will need to have been necessary.

“Let me get this straight. You’ll stroll round with a bundle you bought from a biker of a gang who gave it to a complete stranger in full desperation as a result of he didn’t need the cops to search out it. However you gained’t look inside?” She whistled and raised her brows. “They usually say I’m the dumb one?”

“Macy, I…”

“You might very effectively be toting round a pound of crack in your pocketbook, Chey. You understand what that’ll get ya?” She cocked her forehead and folded her arms. “Three squares a day and a hideous orange jumpsuit.”

Cheyenne hadn’t given a lot considered what was within the envelope. However now, having time to suppose, he’d been adamant in regards to the cops not getting it. It was a crimson flag. What if it was medication, and she or he someway bought caught with it? Would the police even consider she didn’t know what was within the envelope or that it wasn’t hers? Her abdomen churned. What in the event that they didn’t? Beads of sweat fashioned on her higher lip, and her pores and skin prickled. She glanced up at Macy.

“You suppose it’s medication?”

She rolled her eyes. “Effectively, it positive as hell isn’t a grocery record. Significantly, now we have to search for your individual security.”

She squinted at Macy. She had some extent, however there was no denying Macy’s intrigue. Her concern was half security and the opposite half pure nosiness. Both approach, Macy was proper. She needed to know what she was coping with.

“Positive.” She walked again to her room, grabbed her bag, and headed into the lounge the place Macy was virtually bouncing on her toes. Make that three-quarters intrigue. She grabbed the massive tattered envelope, which had been folded in half. She slowly unraveled it to the opening. Oddly sufficient, it wasn’t sealed. She peeked inside and gasped on the contents. Nausea rolled her abdomen, and a big chunk rose up her throat. Oh hell.

“What’s it? Medicine?” Macy requested in a high-pitched screech.

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