They both knew what would happen when he turned the key, which glittered hot in the ignition where he’d left it.
The attackers would all come running. With guns.
He turned to meet her gaze; his piercing blue eyes were fierce and determined. ‘Hold on.’
Two
The roar of the motorcycle’s engine was deafening; it drowned out every other sound. Someone could shoot at them and they’d never hear it.
Allie wrapped her arms tightly around Sylvain’s waist. His skin felt hot against hers; feverish.
He gunned the engine. The bike shot down the dirt road as if it had been fired from a cannon. It moved like a living creature beneath them and, even clinging to him with all her strength, Allie struggled to hold on, gritting her teeth from the force of the speed.
It felt like gravity was trying to tear them apart.
Sylvain’s muscles tensed from the effort of keeping the motorcycle upright and moving in a straight line. The rough dirt road jostled them so violently Allie’s teeth chattered.
Then an intersection with a paved highway loomed ahead of them. The road was crowded with late afternoon traffic; they’d have to slow down to merge on to it.
Crouched low behind Sylvain, Allie turned to look over her shoulder. In the distance she saw a dark vehicle roaring after them. It wasn’t close yet but it was fast. It would catch up to them when Sylvain hit the brakes to merge onto the road.
But as they grew closer and closer to the busy road, he didn’t hit the brakes. And, with sudden cold clarity, Allie realised he wasn’t going to.
He was going to turn into that crowded road at full speed.
There was no time to react – to say anything. To try and talk him out of it. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tightened her grip, pressing her face against the bare skin of his back.
They hit the intersection, cutting off a small car that slammed its brakes to avoid crashing into them. Tyres screamed as Sylvain turned the bike sharply. The acrid smell of burned rubber filled the air.
That was when he lost control.
The bike swerved wildly. The road shot up towards them.
Allie screamed and turned her face away just in time to see a lorry piled high with produce swerve off on to the dirt shoulder, sending up a dark cloud of dust and dirt.
Swearing in French, Sylvain fought to right the bike as it wobbled wildly. At the speed they were going, with no helmets or protective gear, Allie knew they’d likely die if they crashed. But there was nothing she could do but hold on. Holding her breath, she clung to Sylvain’s waist.
Then, just as suddenly as he’d lost it, he was in control again. The bike steadied. He revved the engine and they tore straight and fast down the road.
Exhaling in relief, Allie lowered her chin to his shoulder. She couldn’t tell whether it was her heart or Sylvain’s she could feel pounding but a fine sheen of sweat had appeared on his bare shoulders and she was finding it hard to breathe.
He glanced back at her. ‘You OK?’
No words seemed sufficient to convey how she felt, so Allie nodded her reply. As their speed picked up, he bent low over the bars. The sea was a blue blur beside them; on the other side fields rushed by, a watercolour of gold and green and lavender. He handled the bike smoothly now, passing cars without hesitation or fear.
She didn’t know how fast they were going but had a feeling it must be well over 100 miles per hour. She wondered how Sylvain could see – the wind burned her eyes, whipping her damp hair into a weapon that sliced at her face and the bare skin of her shoulders.
But soon traffic grew heavier and they were forced to slow.
Sylvain swerved, looking for a way out, but found nothing. It was summer time on the French Riviera. Traffic was inescapable.
Still, Allie told herself, at least they’d escaped the gunmen. And by now they had to be nearly back to the house. They’d made it.
Just as she’d begun to relax, though, a black BMW swung into the lane behind them, creeping so close it almost touched the bike’s rear tyre.
She could never be certain where it came from. Just, suddenly, it was there; its powerful engine roaring. Tinted windows hid the face of the driver, making the car seem as blank and menacing as a robot.
Allie felt Sylvain’s body tense as he studied the car in the bike’s side-mirror.
‘Is it one of us?’ she shouted, her voice disappearing in the wind.
He shook his head very slightly.
Allie’s heart sank. It was one of them.
By now, she knew what to expect – he didn’t have to warn her. She tightened her arms around his waist, bracing herself.
Sylvain pulled into oncoming traffic.
Cars scattered around them like toys in a playground. Discordant horn blasts formed a chorus of rage but Sylvain ignored them, speeding straight ahead.
Behind them, the dark car’s engine roared as if enraged.
A shriek of brakes and a crash. Clinging to Sylvain, Allie twisted around to see the BMW knock a smaller car off the road into the scrub brush. Then the driver floored it and headed right towards them.
‘Sylvain!’
Hearing the urgency in her voice, he glanced back. Swearing, he swerved hard to the right, on to the narrow, unpaved, shoulder. Pebbles shot out from under their tyres like bullets as they sped along the rough dirt strip for half a mile, passing cars like they were sitting still before careering at last on to a narrow road.
Thankfully, the tree-lined lane was mostly empty. Sylvain accelerated, taking the curves at impossible speeds. Allie knew she should be afraid but she’d seen what he could do. She trusted him to keep her alive.