Alex Tully

The rain fell in huge round drops that hit the roof of the Challenger like a drum beat. Alex drove carefully down the long driveway up to the mansion where his teacher lived. It was late, the lights that lined the drive making the drops on the windshield sparkle. He couldn’t hear the crunch of the gravel on the drive. He had the stereo on too loud for that. The refrain of Radar Love rattled the windshield.

Or that’s what he thought it was. A crash of thunder made the ground shake as a huge blast of lightning blinded Tully. When the spots cleared from his eyes, he saw an unfamiliar motorcycle in the driveway. It was a big black Harley hard tail. The raindrops were quickly falling off of the wax on the bike’s paint.
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When you’ve been forced into doing things you don’t want by an illicit cartel and been run through by a sword before another group kidnaps your girlfriend, you get paranoid. As I crouched down to remove the bearings from the drivers’ side front wheel of a 72 Corvette, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. It wasn’t the same ringing in my ears I get when Caleb came near that told me another Immortal was around. This was something else.
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The sleek black and blue Challenger slipped between a trio of semi's so close that Alex Tully could see the reflection of the Foster Farms logo on the hood of his car. He barely pressed down on the gas, and the engine dropped into passing and the car shot out from between the big rigs like a bullet.

Alex needed the speed, but there were too many cars and trucks choking the 5. It was nowhere near rush hour, one o'clock in the morning, but the freeway that stretched from Washington State to Tijuana was moving like molassas in a Minnesota winter. Tully gritted his teeth, he wanted to watch the Challenger chew up the pavement. He dashed around a minivan and some kind of SUV, and took the on ramp to State Route 241. It wasn't like he didn't have the $2 needed to pay the tolls. He was rich now, thanks to winning the Race.

Yeah that had been a good idea, not that he'd been given a choice. The fuckers had kidnapped his "wife." He'd risked life and limb to save her, and not just his own only to find out that Kathryn had betrayed him. She'd never loved him. She wasn't who she pretended to be. She had come into his life to play him like a violin tugging on his heart strings, stripping him down to the bare bones and rebuilding him into someone else. Then when he'd accepted his new life as a model citizen, she'd vanished. His world turned upside down, they'd forced him to turn back on old habits - like bank robbery, assault and battery. Alex never did understand why they played him the way they had. Why not just get him into the Race before the set up with Kathryn? Why tear out his heart like that?

"It didn't matter anymore," he said as he floored the Challenger on the nearly empty toll road. "I've got you baby, and you're all I will ever need again. And thanks to those fuckers, I've got 32 million to keep you in tires and gas."