Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
I tried not to see Darla’s smug little smile, the way she’d swing her hair like every boy belonged to her. I tried not to hear Collin’s voice from back when he used to swear I was the only one who mattered. I tried not to think about how small I’d felt standing in that doorway.
So I read. I wrote. I underlined words I didn’t even comprehend. Anything to keep from feeling.
When the lights flickered, I realized I was the last one there. The librarian cleared her throat gently, offering me a sympathetic smile. “We’re closing, sweetheart.”
I shoved my notes into my bag, muttered thanks, and stepped out into the cool night.
The clock on my phone said almost eleven. Too late to want to go back to that room, back to those sheets, back to Darla’s voice filling the air.
So I didn’t.
Instead, I pointed my car toward Tennessee, the back roads pulling me closer to home even though I didn’t know if I wanted to face that either.
The night was thick, the road empty except for the occasional flash of headlights in the distance. I rolled the windows down, letting the cool wind slap against my damp cheeks. I hadn’t realized I’d been crying until the air stung.
And then it happened—sharp, loud, the car jolting hard. The steering wheel yanked sideways in my hands. One tire blew, then another. My SUV fishtailed before I got it to the shoulder.
Two tires shredded. On a back road through Dreadnought. Seriously, why was this my luck? I cursed under my breath, smacking the steering wheel with both palms. The silence after the engine shut off was deafening just the steady clicking of my hazard lights filled the space.
My phone showed one bar of signal. A bar that it couldn’t seem to stay locked to as it would occasionally blink to SOS mode.
I dropped my forehead to the wheel and let the tears fall hot and fast.
That’s when I heard it.
The low rumble of an engine in the distance, growing closer, deeper, like thunder rolling over the hills.
I wiped at my face, squinting down the road. A single headlight cut through the dark. The closer it came, the more my chest tightened.
The bike slowed, then stopped a few feet behind me. The engine growled, steady and commanding.
And then I saw him.
Gonzo.
Leather cut, broad shoulders, dark hair glistening with small flecks of gray shining through his beard. The outlaw who’d helped me before when my car’s battery cable had come loose on a different back road not far from here. The one who had stopped to check on me made it right without asking anything in return. The man who followed me to the safety of my gated community before returning back to what he was doing before finding me.
He swung one leg off his bike, boots crunching on gravel. His eyes scanned me, sharp even in the dark.
“You’re cryin’,” he said, voice low and rough. Not a question. Just fact.
I shook my head quickly, embarrassed, brushing at my cheeks. “No, I—my car—two tires blew.”
He glanced at the shredded rubber, then back at me. “Back roads at night. Not safe. Yet, you keep takin’ them and ended up on the side of a curve. Bad luck, girl.”
“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” I whispered. “Needed air.”
For a second, his gaze softened. Just a flicker, like a storm breaking far out on the horizon. He jerked his chin toward the bike. “Hop on. I’ll take you home.”
Home. The word made my stomach twist. Home wasn’t an apartment where my roommate was in my bed with my ex. Home wasn’t Tennessee, where my mom would see my red eyes and ask questions I wouldn’t answer because she didn’t think college should be about education more than experience. She should have been Darla’s mom, they were a perfect match.
“Anywhere but home,” I squeaked, voice small, but certain.
His eyes searched mine. He nodded once, like he understood more than I’d said.
“All right. Anywhere but home. I can do that.”
The bike loomed, chrome and leather gleaming even in the dark. My heart raced. I’d never been on one before. He must’ve seen the hesitation, because his voice softened just enough. “Swing your leg over. Hold on tight. Trust the man and the machine.”
My hands trembled as I climbed on. The leather seat was warm from the engine. When he settled in front of me, solid and steady, I hesitated before wrapping my arms around his waist.
The second I did, the world shifted.
The engine roared to life, the vibration rattling through my entire body. The wind whipped my hair back as we shot forward, the night breaking open around us.
And just like that, I wasn’t crying anymore.
The road curved, trees blurring on either side, the stars overhead smeared into silver streaks. The hum of the engine, the heat of him, the raw freedom of flying on two wheels—I couldn’t think about Collin, or Darla, or anything else. It was just motion. Just release.