“What?” he asks kinda breathlessly.
“No time to explain now, I’ll tell you later,” I say. “We gotta go.”
“The bikes are behind here,” he says and leads the way.
Brenda has her arms wrapped tight around her chest and her face is so pale it’s sparkling in the moonlight. Delayed shock over killing a man? Over almost dying? Probably both. I just hope it hasn’t rendered her speechless yet, because we still need her to show us a different way out of here.
“Get on,” I tell her as I roll my bike from behind the bush and mount it. I’m trying to sound gentle, but I’m not sure I know the first thing about that.
She snaps her arms away from her chest and deftly climbs on behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist and pointing into the dark distance behind the bar. “Go that way. It’s a shortcut out of town.”
I rev my bike, and Blaze asks no questions before doing the same. Then we ride across the gravel lot and onto the grassy field, the bumpy terrain making her hold on to my waist as tight as she can. Having her behind me on my bike, holding on so tight, her hot breath warming my neck, is all sorts of dreams come true—ones I never even knew I dreamed.
Brenda
The night grows deeper, darker, and cooler, the rumbling of their two bikes louder than any bikes I’ve ever heard in the sleeping silence. Traffic is non-existent on this stretch of road, as I hoped it would be. We’ve been riding for a while, and only one car passed us.
I’m leaning against Colt’s back with all my weight, holding him tight around the waist. Tighter than I need to since we’re not going all that fast. As tight as I want to. His body is warm and solid, yet somehow soft too, and it’s the best thing I’ve felt in more than six months. This is the best I’ve felt in over six months. Longer, really. If I could just stop shivering, this ride would be perfect.
His friend is riding in front of us, glancing back every so often. He signals right then pulls over onto the shoulder. Colt stops behind him and is waiting for me to get off so he can dismount too, but I’m good right here, I don’t really want to move.
“You all right?” he asks me, trying to turn so he can look at me.
“Yes, perfect,” I say and squeeze closer to him.
“I think she’s in some kind of shock,” he tells his friend who’s now standing beside us. “She shot a guy back there.”
“Fuck, I thought I heard a shot,” the friend says. “I just hoped I was wrong. What are you gonna do with her? You can’t bring her back to the bunker, you do know that?”
“I knew it going in,” Colt says testily, trying to pry open my arms so he can look at me, but I’m content to just let them keep talking. I don’t need to be a part of this conversation.
“Shit, you sure she’s not on something?” Colt’s friend asks. “That’s the last thing we need.”
“It’s just shock,” Colt says, but he somehow doesn’t sound very sure. Smart guy. This fogginess in my brain could very well be the madness I’m sure I’ve inherited from my mom rearing its ugly head in me. She was all dreamy and lethargic in the beginning, that’s how it’s started. I need to pull myself together. Right now. Right the fuck now.
“Remember how I was the first time I killed a guy?” he adds. “I still don’t want to think of that. It’s hard.”
“This is so messed up, Colt. How many guys did you kill back there?”
“Three,” Colt says. “And the third one would’ve gotten me if she hadn’t shot me. She basically saved my life. Let’s find a motel for her. She’ll be fine in the morning.”
“And then what?”
Right the fuck now. Get it together, Brenda.
“I’m fine,” I say, my voice so weak I barely hear it. “I got money for a bus ticket out of this place.”
“It’s like 2 AM,” the friend says. “I bet there’s no buses going in and out of this sorry ass town.”
I start shivering harder. He didn’t even say it harshly, but it just yanked the little bit of reality I’d managed to get a grip on right out of my grasp again.
“You go on back to the bunker, Blaze,” Colt says. “Tell Ace what happened and that I’ll be back tomorrow morning. I gotta get her to a bed.”
“You’re such a dog,” Blaze scoffs, but it was a poor attempt at mockery. He sounded way too concerned and kinda scared.
“I got this, don’t worry about it,” Colt says, and I like how sure he sounds. At least one of the three of us sounds like he’s got it together.
“If you’re sure,” Blaze says, doubt thick in his voice.
“I’m sure,” Colt replies.
Then his friend is walking away and Colt is telling me to hang on. What else am I gonna do? Good thing it’s also the only thing I want to do.
The next thing I’m aware of is sitting on the back of his bike alone, not shivering, and not quite awake. We’re in a parking lot of a roadside motel, the place quiet, dark, and almost empty. A silver station wagon is parked right next to me, there’s a beat-up dark pickup truck a ways away and a couple of bikes. But all the windows of the motel are dark. Most of the only illumination is coming from the reception booth, where I see Colt through the huge windows getting a room.
Sleep sounds like a good idea. A very good idea. I hope he hurries up.
“You feel better?” he asks as he exits the reception and walks back to me.
“Yeah, I think so,” I say, wrapping my jacket tighter around my body because I think I’m about to start shivering again. My voice is still very frail and wispy.
“Room 6,” he says, showing me the key. “This place looks all right. For a night at least.”
“Yeah,” I say, and it’s all I can say.
We ride to the room, he parks right by the door, then helps me off his bike like a perfect gentleman. I honestly can’t remember the last time a guy was this thoughtful with me. This caring. This concerned. Maybe it hasn’t happened since my dad died. But I hold my own. I don’t really need a guy to take care of me. Still, it’s so good to have his arm around me leading me to the door, as I lean against him.
The room smells musky and disused, bleach the strongest aroma in the room. It’s practically a palace room compared to my bedroom at the Sinners’ clubhouse.
I should shower. I really need it. But by the time we stop at the side of the bed, all I can think of is lying down. I don’t even have the energy to pull back the covers. Good thing he does it for me.
Man, I hope he doesn’t expect gratitude sex right away. And if he does, I hope he’ll be content with me just lying there like a log, because I got nothing left.
“Here, at least take your jacket off first,” he says with a chuckle as I take the last shaky, unsupported step to the bed.
He helps me with it, and then with my shoes when I sit on the bed. And that’s it. I can’t stay upright any longer.
The bed shakes and bounces as he gets in beside me, but he stays on his side of the bed, makes no move to come any closer to me. That’s not right either. I already miss the feel of his strong, warm body in my arms. So I use the last of my wakefulness to scoot over to him, wrap my arm back around his waist where it actually belongs, and lay my head against his chest. I could sleep for a thousand years if he held me. And I think I just might.