At the ridge top, the world opened wide—tin rooftops scattered through blue-green valleys, back roads twisting away into dusk.Nash signaled and turned onto the overlook, the Beast’s tires grating over loose stone.The others followed, bikes fanning into a half-circle facing the drop.
One by one, the engines died, boots hitting the ground almost in unison as Crusher pulled a bottle of Jack from his saddlebag, cracked the seal, and took a long drink before handing it to Sarge.It passed slow down the line, each man tipping it once before passing it on.
Cassie had already slid off.Arms crossed, hair tugging in the wind, she stepped toward the edge and looked out over the valley Connor had always claimed was his.
When the bottle reached Nash, he followed her to the ledge, pouring a small measure into the open air, whiskey flashing once before the dark took it.Taking his own swallow, he handed it over.
Cassie grasped the bottle, their fingers brushing.“I forgot how much he loved this place,” she said, taking a sip.“He always said he could think better up here.”
Nash said nothing.The wind was tugging at his leather, at his memories—
Boots kicked out in front of him, Nash sat shoulder to shoulder with Connor on the overlook.They’d ridden up late, still buzzing from a messy run moving ghost-pieces across state lines.The cash was in hand, but Connor kept cracking his knuckles while Nash’s knee bounced, his umpteenth cigarette burning forgotten between his fingers.
Dawn crept slow while they passed a bottle back and forth, drinking off the nerves.Nash lit another cigarette he didn’t want, thumb flicking the lighter open and shut.
“Con,” he muttered.“Listen.I, uh—”
Connor didn’t look at him.Just took a long pull, eyes fixed on the dark.
Nash cleared his throat.“I been thinkin’.And I don’t…shit, I don’t want this to be weird, but—.”
Connor finally cut him a glance, brow raised.
“Jesus.All right,” Nash tried again.“You know how me and Cas been hangin’ out a lot.”
“That so?Thought you were just givin’ her rides?”
“Well, yeah.I give her a ride and then we…hang out.”
Connor stared, unblinking.“Okay.And?”
Nash blew out a breath.“And it ain’t the same anymore.”
“What ain’t?”
“Me and her.We ain’t the same.”
Connor squinted.“What the fuck does that mean?You growin’ gills or somethin’?”
Nash flicked ash.“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“Only to people who talk stupid.”
Nash dragged in a breath.“All right, shithead.I think I love her.”
Silence.
“You hear me?”Nash pressed, louder now.“I love her.I love Cassie.Jesus, man, you gonna fuckin’ say somethin’?”
Connor burst out laughing—sharp, sudden, head thrown back, hand to his chest like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
Nash’s shoulders locked.“The fuck is so funny?”
Connor grinned through it.“You really think I didn’t know what y’all been doin’?”
“We weren’t—” Nash started, then stopped.“We didn’t—”
“Man,” Connor cut in, still grinning, “I been hearing you climb up the side of my house and into her room for how long now?You ain’t stealthy.”
