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  Blinding rays of the sun hit me in the face as I open the door leading outside. One could easily forget how dark and dreary the inside is until you’re hit with the brightest flash of warmth by walking out. Sad, but at the same time fantastic thing is, this neighborhood is decent. There haven’t been any car thefts, muggings, or police calls out here in years.

  Which makes people like me supremely happy, because if someone stole my bike baby, I’d trek through hell and high water to get her back. After I erased whoever took her off the face of the planet, and no, I don’t mean killing. I’m not that kind of person. A few clicks on a keyboard and BOOM, I can make someone vanish instantly. Social security number, bank accounts, driver’s license, birth certificate. That kind of dead is better than the other.

  Strutting over to my blacked-out Suzuki Hayabusa, a.k.a. Baby, I grab the helmet off the seat and slide it carefully over my earbuds. Then reaching down, I undo the padlock keeping her locked to the steel pipe running up the side of the building. Just because our neighborhood is safe doesn’t mean I’m dumb enough to take the risk of losing her.

  I zip my jacket up and throw a leg over before bringing her to life. She purrs underneath me in a way that I know is more bite than bark. Baby is no joke. She maxes out at two-hundred and forty-eight miles per hour, clocking in as the second fastest motorcycle in the world. I’ve never gotten her up to that speed, but I’ve come close. She’ll come in handy if the need to jam ever arises. I paid a good penny for her, but not as much as some car owners. That’s a win-win for me.

  Backing out onto the street and doing a quick inventory of my surroundings, I drop into gear and let Baby carry me to work. Orsam wasn’t too far off the marker when he’d wished me off on safe travels. I think he knows me a little bit too well now. If there’s a thrill in something, I’m going to find it. The more adrenaline that pumps through my veins, the more alive I feel. I swore to myself a long time ago that I’d never let my fear control me again. Every day is a task of living each moment of free time as though it’s my last. If I didn’t need those little green pieces of paper the world revolves around, I would be off catching a swell in Hawaii or South Africa. Surfing is one of those life experiences I picked up after moving out here. Just thinking of the thrill has my hand squeezing the throttle.

  When I cruise into the employee parking lot ten minutes later, it’s ten minutes faster than it should’ve taken me. One of the best things about my bike is that she rides so damn smoothly, I can’t even judge speed anymore. I take her over to the reserved half spots for bikes. She purrs appreciatively right before I turn her off and put the kickstand down. There’s no reason to lock her up here because they’ve got security and cameras all over the place. The only thing I lock up is my helmet. It’s an expensive piece of hardware and would be super easy to run off with.

  Making my way over to the steps, I run up the ten of them and finish off with a dancing fist-throwing move a la Rocky at the end. No one is outside to witness like the plethora of other times; not like I give a shit, anyway. I do whatever makes me happy. That power belongs to me now.

  Trying to calm the faster pace of my heart, I run a hand through my hair as I scan my ID card, granting me access to the building. As far as jobs go, mine is acceptable. I’m not working with food or the general public. That’s something at least. My cubicle is in the far back corner like the bosses are afraid someone will come in and judge the place based off my appearance.

  I’m totally cool with it because there isn’t but three of us back here. Less people and less time being social. One of the main reasons I’m so good at what I do.

  I jump into my seat ass first, causing it to spin a 360 before settling down. After I unlock my computer and clock in, my headset goes over one ear while my ear bud still plays in the other, and my first call comes through.

  The workday flies by with only two short breaks for coffee and one for lunch. By the time I’m clocking back out, there’s a pep in my step and not just from the thousands of dollars’ worth of merchandise I sold over the phone. Yeah, I’m one of those people, but at least I work for a legit company. I don’t sell dirty timeshares to sweet little old grandmas or newspaper subscriptions to the millennial generation. Nope. Nickol’s, named after the owner, of course, sells all kinds of outdoorsy stuff.

  Anything from kayaks to tents or, my personal favorite, surf boards and scuba gear. One of these days I’m going to manage to save enough money to move somewhere there’s clearer water so I can swim with sharks.

  Maybe I’ll even own another pet octopus while I’m there. I had to leave Kraken behind, and it broke my heart. On second thought, I won’t be getting another because none could take her place. I’ll stick to having the eight-legged pet mollusk tattoo on my shoulder.

  Kraken hasn’t crossed my mind in months. If it wasn’t for the dream with Atlas this morning, I’d be wondering what’s up with nostalgia lane, but I know what caused it. All of it has my feet picking up pace while I barely restrain myself from sprinting out to my bike. There’s only one cure for the anxiety weighing heavy inside of me right now. The risk of the surf is calling my name to calm my nerves for sure.

  FOR MORE OF IDENTITY

  GO TO THE LINK BELOW!

  Identity

  Read ALL the Villainously Romantic Retellings!

  Ferocity

  Toxicity

  Vanity

  Worthy

  K.B. Everly is a romance author from Southern Mississippi. She has one daughter, a rotten little puppy, and two cats who she claims are stealing her soul in only tiny doses so she won’t notice. She can be found (or not found) hiding from her tiny human so she doesn’t have to share her snacks. Usually, it’s in the closet. What free time she has is used fighting with Malegficent, her prosthetic leg, or stuffing her face with copious amounts of coffee and candy as she types away on her next book.

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  THE CONDUIT TRILOGY

  Make Me a Wish: The Conduit Trilogy Book 1

  Wishful Thinking: The Conduit Trilogy Book 2

  Wish Granted: The Conduit Trilogy Book 3

  TOXIC BITCHCRAFT SERIES

  Jinxed: Toxic Bitchcraft Book One

  Spelled: Toxic Bitchcraft Book Two

  UNDER THE SKIN SERIES

  Blood: Under the Skin Book One

  Flesh: Under the Skin Book Two

  THE DIVINELY DAMNED SERIES

  The Arbiter: Divinely Damned Book One

  STANDALONES

  Suffer Less

  A Kiss of Madness

  The More the Merrier

  Polarity of Us