All I knew was the road had gone quiet without her voice in it.
And quiet never stayed quiet for long.
***
THE REST OFthe afternoon slid by easy, music stayin’ steady, the smell of fried shrimp and whiskey clingin’ to the air while laughter spilled off every wall. The kind of noise that let a man forget, just for a minute, how cruel the world could be when it wanted.
Dinner crowd came and went. Regulars mostly. Dockhands still smellin’ like salt and sweat, mechanics with grease under their nails, a handful of tourists brave or stupid enough to wander into a biker bar and order like they belonged. Ruby kept the floor movin’ like clockwork, hair loosening as the night wore on, voice hard enough to quiet the rowdy ones before they crossed a line. Gatsby worked the bar smooth as glass, slingin’ drinks with one hand and dealin’ stories with the other.
Rune lingered longer than usual, talkin’ bikes with Soldier, both of ’em leanin’ on the counter like it was church. Soldier didn’t say much, just listened, that quiet intensity never lettin’ go. I caught myself watchin’ him more than once, wonderin’ what ghosts chased a man that far south and why he stayed once the work was done.
By the time the last table cleared, the clock had crept past midnight.
Ruby wiped her hands on a towel, hair slippin’ loose over her shoulder. “You lockin’ up, boss?”
“Yeah,” I said, eyes on the receipts. “Go on home. You’ve earned it.”
She smiled, tired but genuine. “Don’t stay too late. Ghosts’ll start talkin’ back.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst company.”
Gatsby flipped the last barstool onto the counter. “You ever think about settlin’ down, Chain?”
I looked up slow. “That a joke?”
He shrugged, pullin’ on his jacket. “No. Just somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ about. Guess I haven’t found the right one yet.”
“Forever’s a long time.”
“Yeah,” he said, like that truth already weighed on him, and then he headed out into the dark.
Silence settled in the second the door clicked shut, the neon hummin’ against the glass and paintin’ the room in soft red and gold. Outside, the street sat empty except for my bike, chrome catchin’ moonlight like it was waitin’ on me.
I walked the place out of habit, checkin’ locks, shuttin’ down taps, killin’ the music. When the quiet finally fell, it wasn’t peaceful. It vibrated, like the room itself hadn’t quite let go of the day.
I leaned against the bar, hands braced on the edge, breath slow and even, and for the first time all night there was nothin’ left to keep my thoughts occupied.
That’s when she slipped in.
Not gently. Not distant. Clear and sharp as memory gets. Lark, crouched behind that broken bench, soot streaked across her cheeks, eyes bright and wild, terrified and furious all at once like fear hadn’t decided yet whether it was gonna win.
I stared down at the bar top, jaw tightening, the question pressin’ harder the longer I sat with it. Why her? I’d pulled people out of worse than that. Fires, wrecks, messes that never made the news. I didn’t carry them with me afterward. Didn’t replay their faces when the room went quiet. So why the hell couldn’t I stop thinkin’ about her?
I pulled my phone from my pocket, thumb hoverin’ over Miriam’s name while I thought about askin’ how Lark was doin’, about drivin’ out there myself just to see with my own eyes that she was fine. The urge hit fast and hard, then just as quickly I shoved the phone back where it came from.
She didn’t need me hoverin’. Didn’t need another man showin’ up uninvited, draggin’ her back into smoke and fire she was probably tryin’ to outrun.
That still didn’t explain the pull, though, or the way my chest felt off-center, like somethin’ inside me had shifted and never bothered to settle back where it belonged.
Thunder rolled out over the water, a storm pushin’ in from the coast, the kind that promised long rain and a longer night. I locked up, flicked off the lights, and stepped outside, the air thick with salt and electricity, heavy enough to taste.
My bike waited under the sign, chrome dulled by the haze. I swung a leg over and sat there longer than I meant to, the seat still warm from the day’s sun, before finally bringin’ her to life. The engine roared, vibration rollin’ through my chest, groundin’ and familiar, somethin’ I could trust.
Still, when I looked out toward the highway, my thoughts drifted the same way they had for days, pulled down the same invisible line that led straight back to her. It didn’t make sense, and it didn’t need to.
I twisted the throttle and muttered, “Get her outta your damn head, Riggs,” but the words didn’t carry much weight once the rain started fallin’, heavy drops splatterin’ against the pavement as I pulled onto the road.
Somewhere deep down, I already knew this wasn’t over. That sooner or later, fate was gonna shove her back into my path whether I wanted it to or not.
