Three nights after the incident at the gas station, Cole Hayes was back on the road. The events surrounding Maya had been handed over to the police, but Cole had deliberately stayed out of the investigation. He wasn't a detective, and he had no interest in becoming one. He had simply done what he always did—stopped when someone needed help. Yet every time his phone rang, a small part of him expected to hear Maya's voice again. They had exchanged numbers after that night, supposedly so she could contact him if she needed anything. Cole told himself it was nothing more than common sense. He didn't believe that explanation anymore.
Maya had spent the last few days staying with her sister. Her husband's financial records had been turned over to investigators, and the evidence on the USB drive had been enough to trigger a formal investigation. Things were finally moving in the right direction. But Maya still couldn't sleep properly. Every unfamiliar car outside the house made her look through the curtains. Every unknown number on her phone made her heart race.
Cole didn't know any of that.
He was riding along an old riverside road just after midnight when he noticed something unusual ahead. A car was parked on the shoulder of the bridge with its hazard lights flashing. There was no traffic around it. No police. No roadside assistance.
Cole slowed down.
As he approached, he saw a woman standing on the other side of the guardrail.
He immediately stopped his motorcycle.
The woman was facing the river.
She wasn't moving.
Cole removed his helmet and walked toward her.
“Hey.”
She didn't answer.
He stopped several meters away.
“Are you alright?”
The woman finally turned.
She was around thirty, wearing a dark coat, her hair soaked by rain. Her eyes were red from crying.
“Please leave me alone.”
Cole looked at the empty road behind him.
Then at the river.
Then back at her.
“Okay.”
He didn't move closer.
“I'll stay over here.”
The woman frowned.
“Why?”
Cole shrugged.
“Because you look like you shouldn't be standing here alone.”
She looked away.
“I'm not going to hurt myself.”
Cole nodded.
“Good.”
He leaned against the railing on his side.
“Then we can just stand here.”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
The rain became heavier.
Eventually, the woman whispered:
“My brother is dead.”
Cole looked at her.
“He was twenty-six.”
She wiped her face.
“He called me three hours ago.”
Cole didn't interrupt.
“He said he was coming home.”
Her voice broke.
“Then the police came instead.”
Cole's expression softened.
“What happened?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Then she looked at him.
“They said it was an accident.”
Cole noticed something lying on the pavement beside her car.
A motorcycle helmet.
It was badly damaged.
After rescuing a stranded driver seconds before a train destroys his van, Jace Morgan discovers the crash was no accident, thrusting him into a dangerous plot involving stolen identities and city government corruption.
Stopping at an isolated gas station during a midnight rainstorm, Cole Hayes step in to help a distressed woman, only to find himself entangled in a dangerous hunt for evidence that puts both their lives on the line.
Driven out by her father and scheming stepfamily, Lena steps into the rain with nothing left but a promise to return stronger than ever.
When spoiled heiress Jenny breaks down on a stormy highway, the rugged biker she once judged as trouble becomes her only savior-sparking an unexpected romance that challenges everything she thought she knew about love.
When wealthy, high-maintenance Jenny repeatedly witnesses an intimidating biker named Kai performing random acts of kindness, her curiosity leads her straight to his workshop—and into an unexpected connection.
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3 Part
