Micah glanced down at the gash. “I’ll be okay. Nothing a few bandages and some pain meds can’t cure.”
Arnold nodded. “Now that MacEntire’s in custody, all we’ll need is for you to come down to the station to sign some papers. I’m sure you’re both ready to get out of Kansas.”
“You have no idea,” I sighed, taking a seat on the steps.
When Micah and I had traced Sam’s location to Wichita, it didn’t take long to find the sick bastard. He had a thing for young boys, so it wasn’t a surprise when we found him lurking at one of the local middle school baseball games. I had a way of distinguishing the good people from the bad; it was a skill a lot of FBI agents had. I guess you could say it was more of an intuition type of thing, not exactly something you learn from textbooks.
As much as that skill was valued in my line of work, there were times you needed a break. I had hit my breaking point.
Arnold looked back at the patrol car, where MacEntire glared at us. “I guess I better take him in, so I can tell the world he’s been caught. I’ll see you both at the station,” he said, nodding at us both.
Micah took off his T-shirt and wrapped it around his arm. “The fuckhead ruined my tattoo,” he growled. He moved his shirt so I could see the gash. He was right, once his wound healed, his tattoo wouldn’t look the same with the scar.
We were almost exactly the same as far as height, build, and age, but his whole left arm and back were covered in tattoos. Other than that, most women thought we looked alike.
Getting to my feet, I pointed down the street where we’d left our car. “Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”
I thought he’d fight me on it, but he followed me to the car. I’d never worked with him before, but he turned out to be one of the best FBI agents around—other than myself. That was why the FBI called us in to work together. On the way to the hospital, he leaned his head back against the seat.
“I’m serious about taking a break,” he said. “Let’s pack up our shit and ride our bikes across the country, meet some women, and forget life for a while.”
I chuckled. “You’d seriously slow down enough to do that?” Micah was like me, a workaholic. It was all we had. When I caught my first criminal, it became an addiction. I wanted to rid the world of them. But when one was caught, a dozen more would surface. It never ended. It had taken a long time to realize I wasn’t going to be able to save everyone.
“Fuck yeah,” Micah exclaimed. “Let’s do it. We’ll call the bureau tomorrow and tell them we’re skipping town for a while. If we don’t, we’ll get sucked right back in. The bad guys will still be around when we get back.”
I loved my job, but he had a point. I hadn’t had a break since I started walking again after the accident. After that, I kept moving and never looked back. “You know what? I think you might be right. Let’s do it.”
Three Days Later
I’d turned in my notice for an extended vacation and thought I’d get shit from my superior, but he knew I was getting burnt out. My bike was ready to go, my saddlebags and tank bag filled with all my clothes and toiletries. Being on a sport bike didn’t leave much space to pack for trips, but I worked with what I had.
After the accident, my parents had tried to get me away from motorcycles, but it was in my blood. I just never went back to racing. It took a year to be able to walk right, and after I healed, it was too late to go back—for many reasons.
The sound of Micah’s motorcycle echoed down the street. When he pulled in on his sleek, red and black Honda CB1000R, he took off his helmet and smiled. “Ready to go, fucker?”
“Almost. Need to grab my phone.”
I hurried inside and grabbed it off my kitchen counter, only to see I’d missed a couple of calls. They were both from Levi. Ever since I had left eight years ago, we talked monthly to keep in touch.
When I walked outside, Micah was sitting on my GSXR. “Dude, I love this blue. Is it custom?”
“Yep. I wanted something different.” I held up my phone. “I need to return Levi’s call before we go. It won’t take long.”
He waved me off. “No worries. I’ll take your bike for a spin.”
“Go for it.” The key was in the ignition, so he started it up and drove off. I called Levi back and waited for him to pick up.
“Hey, man,” he answered, his voice sounding off.
“Wassup? I saw you called.”
“Yeah, there’s something I need to talk to you about. Got a minute?”
“Sure, go ahead.” I could tell something was wrong.
“I told you about the break in we had last week, right?”
“Yep.”
He sighed. “Miller ended up finding it in Ethan’s garage.”