He got angrier as I continued to fight and yell.

“You better get all this shite out now because I won’t put up with this type of behavior after this.”

“You won't put up with this type of behavior?” I asked in disbelief as he tugged me towards his bike at the mouth of the alley. I stumbled along in outrage. “How about I won’t put up with your behavior! Help! Kidnapping!” I yelled as we got to the edge of the alley where my bike was scratched up on its side and his beast bike was waiting.

“Cut that out,” Dullahan hissed, tugging me a little harder so that I got closer to him, my hands coming up to keep me from crashing into his large chest. When our bodies touched we both practically hissed and jerked back in shock.

“Don’t put your gross body on me!”

“You’re the one falling into my arms, love,” he said with a sneer, shooting me a dirty look.

“Howdy there,” a new voice said and our attention jerked up to a man standing in the middle of the street. Cars honked and veered away from him, nearly crashing into one another. He didn’t seem to care about that.

My eyebrows pinched together as I looked over him. He was a full-blown cowboy—spurred, cowboy boots, a leather duster, a big stetson hat that was tipped down, hiding his face.

“He’s kidnapping me!” I yelled. The man flicked the brim of his hat up, revealing a hispanic man with dark skin. His near-black eyes twinkled as he smiled at us. A cigarette hung from the side of his mouth. I noted the gun belt hanging low on his hips, two revolvers tucked in it.

Dullahan eyed the man warily, his grip slightly tightening on my arm.

Something was going on. The cowboy’s eyes stayed glued to Dullahan and they stared each other down.

“Remington,” Dullahan finally spat out, sliding his arm around my waist and tugging my body against his chest. My eyes widened as my feet dangled off the ground.

The cowboy tugged out a gun, aimed, and shot. I gave a sharp inhale of shock to have a gun shot directly at me but as luck would have it, the bullet couldn’t seem to go straight. It flew off to the side, hitting the metal of my bike before ricocheting down the alley. My poor bike.

Remington sucked hard on his cigarette and tugged his other gun out. He blew out a thick cloud of smoke and walked forward, taking shot after shot at me. Each bullet went wide, flying off like someone had twisted the barrels of his guns. Finally, they clicked empty.

“You,” the cowboy said to me. “Who the hell are you?” Dullahan turned, slamming me on his bike with him, and took off at high speed.

I was tucked into Dullahan’s front, grasping onto his shirt and leather jacket, trying to hold on and not slip off. I had no choice but to bury my face in his chest and shiver as the high of adrenaline wore off, leaving my body a hyped-up mess.