Too Wild To Ride (Steel Veins MC Romance, #1) by Adair Rymer Read Free Book Online

this quick. When you get to Hell, Poet, keep my seat warm for me.”
    Out of nowhere a tan, four door sedan plowed right over Rocks. His head whipped forward  against the road like a watermelon on a rope. Then he immediately disappeared under the chassis of the car with several bone-splintering crunches. The mangled wreck that came out the other side was wet and all the wrong angles. A mockery of the human form. Rocks bitterly clung to life for a few seconds but it was no use. I guess he'd be the one keeping my seat warm in Hell.
    The car came to a screeching stop and the passenger door was kicked open.
    Was that Star?
    “Get in!” she cried, with equal parts horror and excitement.
    I hobbled to my feet, grabbed both my gun and Rock's gun and threw myself into the car. “Take 85!” She took off before I could even get the door shut. Holy shit. Star just killed someone. How the hell was she even here? Whose car was this? I had a few questions and she was saying things too but I had too much trouble thinking. Hitting that bus really fucked me up. Was this all just a deadman's dream?
    My vision tightened to a pinprick, and then blackness took me.

Chapter 3
Star
    I had a dream once when I was very little that always stayed with me. I typically didn't remember my dreams at that age. When I started college, my roommate was all about studying the meaning of dreams. The “Gateway to the Subconscious” was a club she had that held its meetings in my dorm room. I hung around with them more out of boredom than any real interest, and because they always brought weed with them. I just couldn't get into the dream stuff, though. To me it was all just a messy filing system that organized the days events and occasionally it hiccuped. Still, this one hiccup stayed with me for some reason. I never gave it much thought until recently.
    I floated through this endless hallway, or maybe fell, I wasn't sure. Doorways that led to different paths that my life could take, closed on the right and left as I reached them. I was able to catch the briefest glimpse into each one just before the way was shut. The rooms were lush. Full of color, life and warmth, but somehow they seemed alien to me. As if they were a painting of a memory.
    Deep within each room there was a distant form beckoning me. A being of swirling, blackish smoke that coalesced into a dark parody of myself. She was barely noticeable at first. An errant splotch  on a beautiful horizon that lingered just within the fringe of each discarded life. Then she stepped forward, regarding me with the resignation of inevitability. It chilled me, so I pushed on faster.
    As I traveled farther down the hallway, that same figure in each room I passed, stepped ever closer to the doorway before being blocked at the last moment. Faster and faster I fell. More closing doors flew past. All these chances at different lives slammed shut. I was now afraid.
    I realized I had been the one closing these doors all along to stop the dark version of myself from getting out. When I reached the end of the hallway, at breakneck speeds, there was only one door remaining. It opened before me, the dark figure stood expectantly. Her wispy arms set wide, waiting in an open embrace ready to receive me.
    All of my anxiety drained away. I was filled with a sense of belonging. As I collided with her, I came to realize that I was the impostor. This dark form was the real me. Together, as one, we tumbled into the starkly empty room behind her.  She whispered in my ear the following words. “Welcome home, my love. You've been gone too long.”
    Then I woke.
    *  *  *  *  *
    I just killed a man. The words buzzed around my head like a mosquito. Murder was so heavy and foreign to me that I didn't know how to deal with it. I pushed it away as much as I could but I might as well have been standing against the tide. The big waves were going to crash eventually, I was already starting to feel sick.
    But not that sick. Not