After that, lost inside myself and my own personal version of hell, I manage to somehow navigate back to Gage’s house. I can’t bear to stay in my car anymore, since it’s absolutely suffocating. The rain still pours on unmercifully and I get soaked again on the way to the porch. It doesn’t matter. I can’t feel anything but the terrible regret, horror, and sadness that make breathing nearly impossible.
I tuck myself against the front door, since Gage’s bike isn’t in the drive and the house is still dark. I’d slept zero hours the night before, and somehow even in the state I’m in, my eyes close.
I don’t even realize that I’ve fallen asleep until I come to with a start, my heart jumping up into my throat, to find Gage standing in front of me. He’s even larger when I’m on my ass on his porch staring up at him. His size is so imposing that I suck in a quick breath, even though I know he would never hurt me.
His hair is soaked and plastered to his skull, water sluicing off his face and dribbling from his clothing in wet, splashy droplets all over the porch. He blinks, surprised to find me there, looking like a disheveled, drowned rat myself. I scramble to my feet and grip his freezing cold hands in mine. Not that my palms are much better. I’m soaked through as well, my skin damp and clammy. My hair hangs in stringy, half dried ribbons down my back and probably has six inches of frizz on the top. I don’t know why I bothered to put on makeup before I left, since it’s probably a mess now.
I don’t care. I don’t care that I’m a mess. For the first time in my entire life, or at least as long as I can remember, I care about someone other than me.
Gage studies me, his face hard and closed off, giving nothing away. I curl my fingers into his palms, so that my nails bite into his callouses.
“Gage,” I breathe. “Where were you?”
His jaw clenches and I have my answer.
“No!” I tug on his hands, realizing that we can’t do this out here for the whole neighborhood to hear and see. “Gage… please.” I swivel my eyes to the front door and he gets the hint.
He produces a set of keys from his pocket, a jumbled up ring that’s so large, I don’t know how he jammed it in there in the first place. He stabs one into the lock and it clicks free with a slide of his hand. He steps past me, a dark leathery shadow that this time I’m afraidfor, not scaredof, and brushes into the house. I follow, shutting the heavy wood door after me.
“If I knew you were coming, I would have given you a key. Can’t have you sitting out here looking like a drowned puppy in the rain. The neighbors will say that I’m not a nice guy.”
I study my soggy canvas shoes. “Like they don’t say it already. They know who you are. That you’re part of The Riders. You probably piss everyone off with your noisy ass bike, coming and going at all hours of the day.”
Gage whirls and his eyes are so dark and I take a step back unconsciously, until I’m flattened up against the closed door. “Probably. They probably do hate me. Maybe they’re even scared of me, though everyone here knows that The Riders have done a lot of good for this community. We’re well liked around here.”
“A feat, considering my father and brothers are now a part of your club.”
“Yes, well, they haven’t swayed our popularity here. Surprisingly, they’ve behaved themselves. Even in Jacksonville.”
“I guess even hell freezes over.”
Gage blinks. His lashes are starred from the rain. His hair is messy, plastered on top and dripping all over the place in thick strands that cover his shoulders. His cheeks are slightly flushed, like he enjoys riding his bike in hurricane style weather. He studies me intently and I’m struck by how beautiful he is. Not that any other person would probably say so, but I know him now and the light that he has hidden deep down inside himself is doing its best to break forth and illuminate the darkness on the outside too. It softens his hard, rugged features.
My heart pounds a little harder and I can feel my pulse racing at my neck and my wrists.
“Please tell me you didn’t. That you didn’t do something…” I clench my hands at my sides, balling them into tight fists. He waits. Furiously. Maddeningly. He refuses to answer me. He forces me to continue. “Please, Gage. Just tell me. Where were you? What did you do?”
“Why do you think that I did anything? Maybe I was just out for a Saturday ride.”
“In the pouring rain? It was coming down so heavy I couldn’t even see. That alone… you shouldn’t have. Only a crazy person would go out in this. On a bike. Do you have a death wish?”
I wish I could escape the intense scrutiny, but his eyes hold me locked to the door. “If I did, it would be far more convenient for you. I have no dependents. Obviously. No family. I could have left the few things I own to The Riders, but instead, I changed my will to leave it to you. The house. Even my bike.”
I gape at him. “W-why? Me? I’m not going to be distracted. Ineedto know where you were.”
“Orlando. Tracker and I went for a ride.”
“Tracker?”
“He might have acted like a shithead, but he has his uses and he’s still my brother. Let the past be the past and all that. We’re good now.”
“So you just woke up at the crack of dawn this morning, didn’t check your phone, and decided to go for a ride in a torrential downpour? All the way to Orlando? And back?”
“Yeah. That pretty much covers it.” He reaches behind him, into his sodden jeans, and produces his phone. He inspectsit for a second before he chucks it to the floor. It clatters noisily and my eyes nearly pop out. “It’s dead. Soaked. Wrecked. I’ll have to put it in rice. Maybe that will save it. If not… it’s a pain in the ass anyway.”
“Last time I checked, you shouldn’t put it up there.”
Gage studies me. There’s something almost predatory about his stance, commanding, but I’m not wary or afraid. When his lips twitch at the corners, I let out a hard breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding. My lungs deflate, burning just as furiously on the inhale.
