Two hours later she was wearing another one of his shirts and roaring up the beach on a stolen motorcycle. She grinned under the black helmet. She'd never ridden a Ducati XDiavel S before. She'd've pegged Soloman as more of an old school Harley kind of guy. But hey, she wasn't going to complain. She needed the kind speed only a crotch rocket could provide to put some distance between her and the kind of hell that would fall on her head once Soloman found out she was gone.

She ...