My motorcycle riding abilities are starting to improve. Mind, I still have a long way to go until I reach Skipper, Vex, and Carter’s level (never happening), but I know what gears to grind to soar through the desert.
It’s late morning and the sun is beating down. The distant mountains come into focus. I set my eyes on them and feel something shift within me, not yearning from when I was on route to the airport, but peace.
What if things could work out?
I slip into a meditative state and enjoy the thrill that riding through the desert brings me. I craved this sort of freedom as a child, to get away. I wanted a place to ruminate that wasn’t my bedroom floor. The only time I escaped the nicotine-scented house I grew up in was at school, and that sucked even more than the passive smoking. Because if I wasn’t in my mom’s house, I was listening to peers talk about her in vulgar ways.
My whole life, I have been living so close to the desert, yet so far away.
In some ways, I should be thanking Conrad for spilling my coffee and inviting me to be a part of his sex show. If I hadn’t attended, Carter Trescott and his friends never would’ve entered my life and spun it around.
As Sadie said, this is best for Otis. The last thing I want is for my boy to grow up and erect walls around his heart, just because he saw his mother do the same.
I squint through the dust to see a blurred figure charging toward me in the distance. I ease off the gas and hope that my life isn’t about to be disruptedagainby seedy Irishmen.
But as soon as I see that monster of a bike hurl toward me, I know I’m going to be okay.
I step on the brakes.
We all come to a screeching halt, the air filling with three clouds of smoke from my bike.
And two others.
Two others…
I clamber off the bike and sprint over to them.
My heart is in my stomach.
I feel sick.
Vex and Skipper are here. Where is?—?
“Carter?” I wheeze, more out of breath than I realized. “Where is he?”
They walk toward me, armored in thick leather and bold tattoos.
“He’s okay,” Vex assures.
“Define okay.”
“He’s alive.”
“And his leg?”
“Won’t be getting the chop,” Skipper says. “Luckily, the gunshots weren’t in close enough range to shatter any bones or tear any muscle. He’s stable.”
I exhale a sigh of relief and almost bring the pair of them in for a hug.
Almost.
Vex has some serious explaining to do.
I fold my arms over my chest and hitch an eyebrow up at him. “Let her go?”
He hardens his jaw.
“You wanna tell me what that was all about?”
