Sand Angel Page 0,2

that good, especially among the engines revving up and chatter of people talking.

A sharp spin and the rider power-banded. He pulled the clutch, giving the bike a surge of gas, and headed straight for Drew. As the motorcycle grew closer, the rider showed no intention of slowing. Muscles tensed as Drew fumbled with the key to start his bike.

The rider was closing in.

Drew’s pulse jumped and then sped.

The idiot was going to crash into him.

Just before impact, the rider made a razor-edge turn. His tires dug deep into the sand as he whipped around.

“Fuck!” Drew yelled. He and Josh barely had a second to shield their faces with their forearms as the huge wave of sand swallowed them up, leaving them covered in gritty particles and dirt. Not to mention the angry sting as sand pitted his skin.

Without a second thought, Drew swung his leg over the broad seat of his quad. He didn’t bother dusting himself off as he began to move. “I’ll kill the sonofabitch for roosting us.”

The rider sat quietly waiting. His engine revved challengingly.

Drew’s heated footsteps pounded into the sand that gave slightly beneath him, forcing him to channel some of his anger to simply stay afoot. It wasn’t easy walking in the inflexible riding boots. No play in his feet or ankles made for a stiff advance as he beat a path toward the soon-to-be-dead rider.

Josh was hot on his trail. His hand landed on Drew’s arm, slowing him down. “Drew. Hey, Drew. Calm down, buddy.”

Drew yanked his arm free. “Fuck calm. I’m going to rub the little bastard’s face into the sand.” Drew had always been carefree and even-tempered, but that was the past. The years had changed him. You couldn’t witness what he had in Iraq and remain untouched. The world was full of stupid people. Soon there’d be one less.

As Drew approached, the rider switched off the engine and reached for his helmet and goggles. With a sharp yank the headgear rose, a flow of strawberry-blonde hair tumbled from beneath. The softest skin Drew had ever touched was revealed inch by lovely inch, until he was eye to eye with the woman he had left behind three years ago.

He jerked to a dead stop. “Zoë?”

She looked past him or, more accurately, through him and said one word. “Josh.” The slow, menacing growl in her voice revealed she was more than perturbed at her brother. Clearly, Josh hadn’t informed either of them of the other’s presence this weekend. As icy blue eyes again met Drew’s, she muttered, “Drew,” like it was an obscenity.

The crowd was quickly beginning to descend upon them. More than a few people were surprised to discover the mystery rider was a woman, especially the blonde who had removed her shirt. Drew saw her in the distance—the rail’s driver was giving her a rash of teasing.

Before they were trapped in the throng, Zoë crammed her helmet on her head, adjusting her goggles, started her engine and raced through the masses.

Sand shifted beneath Drew’s feet as he slowly turned to confront his friend. Josh’s arms were outstretched, his palms facing Drew. “Before you say it, I just thought—”

“No.” Drew sucked in a tight breath.

He was trembling.

Dammit. He had no idea that seeing Zoë again would have this effect on him. He hadn’t even flinched when pinned beneath rapid fire—well, until he’d been shot. “You didn’t think or you would have told me she was going to be here.”

The anger in her hard features was nothing like the pain he’d seen on her tear-stained face before he left years ago. A face he saw time and time again as he drifted in and out of consciousness lying in that hospital bed. Even now he could hear her cries, her pleas for him to choose her over his career. “How the hell did she learn to ride like that?”

Josh’s arms drifted to his sides. “You left.” He shrugged. It was one of those simple actions that said, Hey, buddy you screwed up. A shake of his head added silently, What did you expect? “She went wild. Mom and Dad couldn’t control her. Late nights. Partying.” He wet his lips, sputtering as he got a taste of the gritty sand that covered him like a sheet. His lime-green and black riding gear was as dusty as Drew’s blue and white outfit.

Drew knew he didn’t look much better. He brushed at the thick layer of sand on his arms, sending a light-tan cloud into the