Phoenix Knight [A Bad Boy Story] - Editing

Phoenix Knight POV - Chapter Two

Phoenix Knight POV - Chapter Two

It was three in the morning and I was already awake and aware of my surroundings. I could never really sleep, not while I knew that there were tens, if not hundreds, of men that wanted me dead and that my door was always open to make it easier for them.

None ever tried.

And even if they did, it helped to have a 9mm pistol hidden beneath my pillow.

I had to leave for school in five hours. Five hours that I spent doing three things.

One, I sat around for ten minutes just releasing the safety on my gun and flicking it back on.

Two, I tried watching Top Gear but quickly lost interest when I got bored of having to sit in one place.

Three, I swung my leg over the seat of my Harley and grinned happily at the rough rumble of the ignition as I revved the engine and shot off down my street. I didn’t even care that I was only wearing a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms and lacked a t-shirt because riding my motorbike and waking up half my neighbour felt... good.

The cold wind stung my skin and my hair fluttered in front of my face but I just didn’t care because it was now four in the morning and I was alone.

The speedometer was steadily increasing and I hit the main highway – the one that lead to my shit school, it was pretty much the only highway we had in this Godforsaken city – at a teeth-grinding speed. I felt the monstrous machine switch gears and skipped forward in my seat as I rode ever faster.

The needle continued to arch further from the left and was dangerously close to the red-dotted numbers.

And I could feel it.

In my hair.

On my face.

Through the tears in my wind-struck eyes.

Everywhere.

I could feel the speed.

And when I knew that I couldn’t go any faster, when I knew that I was travelling at a record-breaking speed... I closed my eyes.

But I kept my hands firm and my body balanced because even though I secretly hoped to die in a mangled mess of metal and flesh... I also didn’t want to. It was self-preservation. The way humans were programmed to function. Instinct.

My lids split open and I laughed into the wind because I was still alive and had survived five seconds of pure uncertainty and fright. My heart fought to calm down but I continued to laugh.

I had already passed Richardson American International School. The name alone was enough to convince me that attending school just wasn’t worth it, that working for the BOA’s would take me further in life. Because I needed to be convinced.

Dropping out of school at fifteen wasn’t an easy decision.

I knew that my parents would have preferred for me to have lived a typical life of: school, University and then some office job that would make me want to blow my brains out. But I also knew that even though my job wasn’t the smartest of choices, my mother and father still would have let me join the team because it was what I wanted. They understood that once I found my forte, once I found what I really loved, then they couldn’t do anything to change my mind about it.

At the same time, I also knew that I probably would not have considered being a part of the BOA’s if they were still alive.

I took a sharp turn into the correct lane when a loud truck came rumbling down the road, heading back the way I came. Narrowly missing the large vehicle gave me a sort of high. I could practically feel the adrenaline as it was released into my bloodstream and my brain fogged up from a blast of thrill and excitement.